Perfume Reviews

Reviews by Way Off Scenter

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Total Reviews: 1201

Hyrax by Zoologist Perfumes

Genre: Leather

Given that The Zoologist’s Civet didn’t smell all that much of civet to me, I was surprised to find the castoreum-like, tarry-animalic pungency of hyraceum conspicuously present in Hyrax. I would describe Hyrax as a potent and assertively “butch” animalic leather fragrance with a decidedly retro cast.

I somehow feel as if I should like this fragrance more than I do, as dark, animalic leather scents normally appeal to me. However, the “throwback” element on display in Hyrax leaves me with the impression that, while aiming at “black leather jacket and studded belt,” the composition trips over “dirty old man.” Hyrax misses the élan exhibited by, say, Masque Milano’s Montecristo or Byredo’s Le Botte, and winds up smelling a bit crude to me after an hour or two’s wear. Oh, and if it’s the titular ingredient you’re after, I’d recommend Liz Moore’s stupendously skanky Salome for a more interesting use of hyraceum.
07th July, 2018

Baque by Slumberhouse

Genre: Woody Oriental

A sweet dried fruit and tobacco composition in what I consider to be the typical, dense, viscous Slumberhouse style. Not necessarily the most nuanced or distinctive scent in Josh Lobb’s current lineup (those would be New Sibet and Norne, respectively), but appealing enough, especially on a cold, damp Pacific Northwest winter night.
03rd July, 2018

Tahani Attar by Amouage

Genre: Woody Oriental

As an attar perhaps ought to be, Tahani is a relatively simple combination of highly complex ingredients. In this case, a big, dark, jammy rose partners with an oud that offsets its sweetness and amber and davana that accentuate its fruity facets. Tahani traces a path from extra sweet to warmly animalic-savory as it develops slowly on the skin, and while not, to my nose, as compelling or appealing as its cousin Tribute, enjoyable nonetheless.
03rd July, 2018
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Russian Oud by Areej le Doré

Genre: Woody Oriental

There’s a lot of talk of chocolate when describing Russian Oud, but that’s not primarily what I’m getting. What I smell here is a big, complicated animalic oud (real, for a change,) wed to a deep, sweet, warm amber with a huge labdanum (or is that guggul?) note that persists through the long and lovely drydown. And when I say “long,” I mean LOOOOOOONG. This stuff hangs on as a skin scent for as much as 24 hours after application, for those to whom it matters.

Russian Adam appears to be a master at extracting marvelous raw materials, and when he sets them in relatively straightforward compositions, such as this one, they can glow in a most gratifying manner. This fragrance feels awfully nice in contrast to the tidal wave of predictable rose and synthetic “oud” compositions that have swamped the current market.
03rd July, 2018

O/E by Bogue Profumo

Genre: Citrus/Fougère

O/E does not seem to have been received quite so rapturously as Cologne Reloaded and MAAI were before it, and I must admit there’s something challenging going on here - a kind of deliberate dissonance that’s not going to suit every taste.

Antonio Gardoni seems quite fond of a very distinctive and peculiar accord that paradoxically weds a medicinal, antique apothecary element to a furry animalic note. The idea may have first emerged with Cologne Reloaded, and was expanded upon in MAAI, Gardelia, and MEM. In O/E, Gardoni accompanies the animal/apothecary accord with a bright citrus and a weird, bitter, metallic note that I can’t begin to identify. The effect is decidedly raspy – to some perhaps even nails-on-a-blackboard disturbing – especially for the first ten minutes or so on the skin.

However, I find that with patience, O/E seems to find its footing, and what started out as grating discord settles into an intriguing olfactory chiaroscuro effect, the likes of which I’ve experienced in certain more traditionally composed fougères and citrus chypres. Certainly not for every taste, but interesting enough to hold my attention.
03rd July, 2018

Majan Attar by Amouage

Genre: Woods

I could describe Majan pretty much as a straightforward dry rose and sandalwood attar, but that would hardly do it justice. The sandalwood here smells remarkably like the real thing, which is to say bewitchingly complex and chameleonic: at once creamy and dry, plush and austere, sweet and savory. One could argue that a high grade Mysore sandalwood oil would serve as well, but I’ll keep my itsy, bitsy bottle of Majan for whenever I want to remind myself just how good sandalwood can smell.
03rd July, 2018

Mélodie de L'Amour by Parfums Dusita

Genre: Floral

Some are smelling jasmine here, some tuberose. Me, I smell both, but more than either, I smell gardenia. Wishful thinking? Maybe, but I get that inimitable green/mushroom edge whenever I wear Melodie de l’Amour, and I’m happy to greet it every time.

What all, I believe, might agree upon is that this is a plush white flower composition of exceptional grace, saved from being overly precious by a judicious touch of crispy green. As much as I love my Carnal Flower (another green-tinged white flower offering), Ropion’s big tuberose can smell decidedly indelicate next to this. To my nose, Melodie de l’Amour is ineffably lovely, and certainly represents one of my favorite floral releases in recent memory.
03rd July, 2018

Iris Cendré by Naomi Goodsir

Genre: Floral

“Rooty” and “doughy” have been used before to describe this scent, and I concur. This is a very poised, rounded iris composition, redeemed from being overly powdery-pretty by (yes,) a peculiar ashy note, which manages to provide just enough edge to make things feel both modern and interesting.

A little bit of leather in the background reminds me ever so slightly of Maître Parfumeur et Gantier’s marvelous Iris Bleu Gris, but the two scents otherwise travel in very different directions. Whereas Iris Bleu Gris uses leather chypre cues to evoke a kind of gentlemen’s club sophistication, Iris Cendré feels comparatively streamlined and utterly nostalgia-free. In short, an iris that doesn’t feel redundant in an increasingly crowded field.
03rd July, 2018

Gardelia by Bogue Profumo

Genre: Floral/Chypre

Anyone expecting a gardenia fragrance out of this is going to be mighty disappointed. (See Jovoy’s Gardez-Moi or Dusita’s Melodie de l’Amour instead.) In fact, I think Antonio Gardoni did disservice to himself and to this fragrance by mentioning gardenia in the press materials. Dismiss any thought of gardenia, and you can enjoy this scent as a big, dense, abstract white flower bouquet set atop the kind of weirdly medicinal-yet-animalic foundation that Gardoni has come to specialize in.

To some extent, this smells to me like an exploration of the same territory where Gardoni unearthed MAAI. There are references aplenty to the great old-school chypres, but with a sharply-honed edge that leaves the composition smelling unmistakably modern. Gardelia is noticeably cleaner-smelling than MAAI, if no less weighty, and more obviously floral, too boot, but the family resemblance can’t be denied. This stuff tends to wear me more than I wear it, but I enjoy it nonetheless.
03rd July, 2018

Fath's Essentials : Green Water by Jacques Fath

Genre: Edwards says Fougère, I say Citrus (you say “po-TAH-toh”)

This is not your father’s (or mother’s) Green Water. I remember the skimpy, impoverished, green chemical compound that used to go by this name, and this is NOT it. In fact, this delightful reissue is the work of no lesser light than Cecile Zarokian, and stands as a fine testament to her talent.

The green juice in this bottle smells exactly like it looks: a brisk, yet nuanced eau de Cologne-type formula invigorated by a marvelously savory tarragon and mint top note and extended in the base by a lovely neroli. “Extended” must be taken in context here - the new Green Water is good for about two hours, max. (There’s a reason they’re selling the stuff in a ten gallon can.) As much as some may be put off by the limited lasting power, I have to wonder how much of this scent’s natural-smelling appeal would have been sacrificed to the kind of clean synthetic musks that might have increased its tenacity. Me, I’ll go with Zarokian’s call, and re-apply liberally.
03rd July, 2018

Dryad by Papillon Artisan Perfumes

Genre: Green Chypre

I have no idea how Liz Moores got around the strictures on oakmoss to compose Dryad, but however she did it, it’s a work of genius. This perfectly-named fragrance is a big, no-holds-barred green chypre that stands in a direct line of descent from Y, Givenchy III, and Chanel No. 19. Which is not to say that Dryad smells fusty or old-fashioned. Shimmering, ever-so-slightly dissonant green notes, the olfactory equivalent of those glittering piano figures in some of Debussy’s songs, lend Dryad a flavor that’s at once archaic and profoundly contemporary. (An effect that Antonio Gardoni and Vero Kern have also achieved, albeit though entirely different means.) I’d set this next to Vero Kern’s delightful Mito as a fine example of what can still be done within the once-abandoned green chypre style. Mo(o)re, please!
03rd July, 2018

Baccarat Rouge 540 by Maison Francis Kurkdjian

Genre: Woods

Well, this is odd.

I must be anosmic to most of what’s in here, because all I can smell is an enormous blast of undiluted Ambroxan. Take the synthetic "ambergris" base note from Green Irish Tweed, amplify it by the power of ten, and that's what I get from Baccarat Rouge. The extrait smells the same to me, though it might wear slightly closer to the skin. I’m honestly not sure what to think…
03rd July, 2018

Aeon 001 by Aeon Perfume

Genre: Woods

Does for vetiver what Antonio Gardoni’s more recent MEM has done for lavender: vetiver from another planet. I honestly can’t remember whether I’d guessed that Aeon 001 was Gardoni’s work prior to the big reveal* on Luca Turin’s defunct blog, but in retrospect, it should have been obvious. A pungent, licorice-leaning vetiver and a boatload of cypriol sit atop the kind of simultaneously medieval-medicinal/animalic accord that has become Gardoni's calling card. (See MAAI, MEM, Cologne Reloaded, or Gardelia for examples.) If there were ever any doubt as to whether anything new or distinctive could be done with vetiver, this ought to dispel it. There is a weird compelling/repellent tension in Aeon 001’s structure that keeps me coming back to it again and again. While I don’t find it all that easy to wear, I can’t seem to keep myself from trying.

*The schtick behind Aeon Perfumes is that they won't reveal the nose behind each limited edition scent until the entire stock sells out. Silly, if you ask me, but I suppose everybody needs a gimmick these days.
03rd July, 2018
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Indolis by Areej le Doré

Genre: Floral

For me, Areej le Doré fragrances have largely been about enjoying beautiful raw materials, as opposed to compositional interest, and Indolis is a good case in point. I see this as a lovely white flower accord, set off by a potent, bitter green note that just manages to keep the whole construct from teetering over the brink of overly sweet. And that’s it. No matter how complex the pyramid, the end result here smells relatively simple. Lush, yes, but neither complicated nor in any way particularly original. To put it another way, the apparent olfactory depth and the considerable attraction that Indolis holds for me stem from the materials themselves, rather than the manner in which they are used. This is not necessarily a bad thing. As with cuisine, there is much to be said for selecting fine ingredients, and then allowing them to speak for themselves.

(As an aside, I don't smell much obvious indole here. Not, at least, in the manner of Lush's Lust or Serge Lutens's Fleur d'Oranger.)
03rd July, 2018

MEM by Bogue Profumo

Genre: Fougère

Words fail.

Antonio Gardoni has taken what smelled to me like a shot at a fougère before (O/E, to be precise), but this is something else entirely. To say that MEM is about lavender is a bit like saying that Picasso’s Guernica is a picture of a bull. To belabor the metaphor, Gardoni, true architect that he is, deconstructs and reassembles the lavender in MEM to reveal an entirely new, and heretofore unimagined form.

In a pathetically inadequate and incomplete attempt at analysis, I’ll venture that part of Gardoni’s genius here was to pull hard on a couple of lavender’s loose strands. As Vero Kern had once before with her magnificent Kiki, Gardoni accentuates the weird, carmel-like facet that emerges in some lavender materials. Yet at the same time, he also highlights the bitter edge that makes lavender so thoroughly unpalatable when, in the now-fashionable manner, it is baked into shortbread cookies. (Sorry, but I’d rather eat ashes.) This, among many other things, takes place over the kind of deeply saturated medicinal/animalic background that has become a Gardoni trademark (q.v. MAAI, Gardelia, or Aeon 001.)

I will stop now, because I can’t begin to do MEM justice, but know that it’s scents like this that restore my faith in olfactory creativity.
03rd July, 2018

Russian Musk by Areej le Doré

Genre: Oriental/Chypre

I’ve said elsewhere that I enjoy Russian Adam’s fragrances more for their exquisite content than for their composition, per se, and Russian Musk is no exception. In terms of structure, there is nothing here that strikes me as especially novel or intriguing. Indeed, the style seems so determinedly retro to me that I might not be able to distinguish Russian Musk amidst a lineup of vintage early 20th century orientals preserved in good condition.

Given what goes into this stuff, that still leaves plenty to enjoy. Russian Adam’s art seems to me less in combining than extracting superb materials, and I enjoy his work to the degree that the compositions do not get in the way of their contents. Russian Musk is a dense, complex fragrance, but not so much so that the ingredients are muted or muddled in their expression. I have a sense that this is what a solid, if “ordinary” fragrance might have smelled like in the days when things like natural deer musk, floral extracts, and real ambergris were the common currency of perfumery. I’ll never know, but I’ll enjoy Russian Musk when I’m in the mood for nostalgia.

Fantastic and very extended drydown, by the way…
03rd July, 2018

Naja by Vero Profumo

Genre: You tell me (Incandescent Tobacco?)

The utterly novel accord of lime blossom (linden, tillieul), osmanthus, and tobacco Vero Kern explores in Naja launches tobacco into such an unfamiliar orbit, I don’t even know how to classify the scent. It is utterly brilliant, and it is like nothing else I have smelled.

Tobacco in fine fragrance typically appears in dark leathery or oriental contexts: think Fumerie Turque, Baque, or Havana. Not here. The ineffable lightness of linden blossom and osmanthus pump Naja’s tobacco full of helium and send it floating off into the clear blue sky in a manner I would not have thought possible. You may not like it, but you ought to smell it at least once, just to know that such a thing can actually be done.
03rd July, 2018

Le Barbier de Tangier by MDCI

Genre: Fougère

I’ve come to lump Le Barbier de Tangier habitually with the nearly simultaneous Chanel Boy, Dusita Issara, and Amouage Bracken Man in a sort of classical fougère mini-revival – one which I welcome in the face of the umpteen-million Cool Water clones that the industry has churned out over the past three decades. Along with Issara , the Barber is one of my favorites from this lot, largely because it feels more articulate than the rather reticent Boy, yet more poised and balanced than the comparatively gruff Bracken Man.

The unfortunate other shoe to drop here is, of course, the cost. Given that the very fine – if admittedly diminished by reformulation – Azzaro pour Homme and Tuscany Uomo are still out there representing the genre, I’m not sure I’d pay $250 US per pop on a bottle of Le Barbier de Tangier. If, after sampling, one were to decide that the quality of ingredients employed by MDCI merits the premium, so be it. Me? I’ll stick to my Tuscany.

Thumbs-up nonetheless, because it represents a gratifying trend.
02nd July, 2018

Bracken Man by Amouage

Genre: Fougère

What I smell when I wear Bracken Man is a rather traditionally-styled fougère, complete with lavender, coumarin, and bergamot. When it first came out, it occurred to me that along with Chanel’s Boy, MDCI’s Le Barbier de Tangier, and Dusita’s Issara, Bracken represented a tentative rekindling of commercial interest in the traditional fougère genre. Following the apparently favorable reception of the more recent Erawan, I remain cautiously hopeful. After thirty-some-odd years during which the vast majority of new fougères have seemed compelled to quote some facet of Cool Water, a return to form of sorts might be welcome.

That said, Bracken Man is perhaps my least favorite of these revivalist fougères so far. I enjoy it well enough in isolation, but when I compare it with some of its brethren, most notably the MDCI and the Chanel, it feels comparatively loud and harsh. A welcome addition, then, but to my mind not necessarily the most compelling example of its emerging sub-genre.
02nd July, 2018

Grev by Slumberhouse

Genre: Defying

Grev is of interest to me mostly insofar as it is completely different from the accustomed dense, syrupy Slumberhouse style. Grev is as bright, metallic, and hard-edged as scents like Baque, Vikt, and Ore are dark and viscous. There are facets to Grev that appear saline, camphoraceous, and sharply vegetal, yet I would not describe the overall effect as aquatic, green, or woody. What does stand out to me, and frankly makes the scent unwearable in my estimation, is a powerful, almost caustic, vinegar note, which some have described evocatively (and accurately) as “pickle juice.” An curious fragrance, all-in-all, but not something I want to smell on my own person.
30th June, 2018

Boy Chanel by Chanel

Genre: Fougère

To my nose, Chanel’s Boy lies very near to the center of the expansive territory occupied by the fougère genre, a place that once belonged to its great uncle, Chanel pour Monsieur, before the crippling multiple accidents of reformulation.

Like its predecessor, I find Boy to be very well-done, but not necessarily very interesting. On the one hand, it’s wonderful to smell a pure incarnation of the basic fougère idea. On the other hand, when wearing Boy, I find myself craving some extra degree of quirkiness to liven up its pristine olfactory countenance. After all, part of the beauty of the fougère, as with the chypre, is the ability of the basic structure to support an enormous range of variation, while the central character remains recognizable beneath. Boy can feel a little like a blank canvas or a dressmaker’s mannequin to me, waiting for the painter’s palette or the draped cloth to complete it.

Thumbs up by a very narrow margin, based on quality more than inherent interest.
30th June, 2018

Lampblack by Bruno Fazzolari

Genre: Woods

Lampblack smells quite simple to me: a dry, transparent accord of cypriol and vetiver – perhaps a bit like Timbuktu, but without the weird. I find it pleasant, but not terribly interesting. I keep feeling that it wants to be more than it is, that it requires another layer of complexity or intrigue to complete itself. Not bad at all, but a bit of a disappointment coming from the author of Au Dela Narcisse, Montserrat, and Ummagumma. I realize I am an outlier here, but hopefully there’s still some room left in today’s world for (mild) dissent.
30th June, 2018

Galop d'Hermès by Hermès

Genre: Leather (Floral)

On a fundamental level, Galop smells to me like a fairly straightforward juxtaposition of sweet rose and leather. However, there is a peculiar, almost meaty overtone to the rose note here, which segues very effectively into the leather accord. The result is a fascinating sort of fragrance chimera, neither wholly animal nor vegetable, but partaking of both. I find this much more interesting to wear than a literal description makes it sound. Unisex, by the way, if you ask me. (Ducks for cover.)
30th June, 2018

Cadavre Exquis by Bruno Fazzolari

Genre: Gourmand Oriental

My wife is inordinately fond of sliced bananas, dredged in chocolate that she has melted in the microwave oven. Every so often she will enter the time on the microwave’s panel incorrectly, resulting in a plume of burnt chocolate aroma that quickly fills the house. The combination of chocolate with the bitter/animalic accord common to so many of Antonio Gardoni’s compositions is somewhat reminiscent of this burnt chocolate smell, but considerably less overwhelming. Set alongside a liqueur-like dried fruit accord, woods, and sweet spices (star anise, cinnamon), I find the whole idea compelling, if admittedly very loud. While I’m normally not a fan of chocolate gourmands, the bitter edge on this one makes it more palatable, if you will, and unlike some others, I enjoy the dissonance of the thing.

(All moot, as this was a limited edition release, and presumably long-since sold out.)
30th June, 2018

Eye, Hatshepsut by Charenton Macerations

Genre: Floral Oriental

To describe Eye, Hatshepsut as a floral oriental is accurate, but not adequate. It smells more like a floral and an oriental lain side by side, without necessarily blending into the conventionally seamless whole of an Ysatis or Byzance. To put it another way, Eye, Hatshepsut juxtaposes a buttery, indolic white flower accord and an incense-laden, spicy, woody oriental accord like layers in one of those fancily poured cocktails, without ever stirring the glass. My nose distinguishes indolic white flowers - particularly jasmine, animalic musk, cypriol, cinnamon, iris, frankincense, labdanum, and something oddly fatty or waxy smelling – perhaps the listed “tallow” note.

The construct sounds like something that could be obnoxiously loud, but in this case it isn’t. Eye, Hatshepsut’s olfactory volume is very carefully modulated. It projects well off the skin and leaves distinct sillage, but it’s never blaring in the manner of, say, Fracas, Poison, Giorgio, or Boucheron. More “come hither” than “get out of the way”, if you will. Eye, Hatshepsut is intended to evoke the ancient Egyptian khyphi incense, but as I have no idea what khyphi is supposed to smell like, I can’t say how well it succeeds. It does manage to smell exotic and rather compelling by turns, with smoky and animalic undertones that distinguish it from more traditional floral oriental offerings. While offered as a unisex fragrance, the conspicuous white flower accord at Eye, Hatshepsut’s heart may put some men off – and that’s coming from a guy who wears Carnal Flower and Tubéreuse Criminelle in public. An appealing oddball scent, but sample first.
17th September, 2017

Elite by Floris

Genre: Fougère

Floris Elite seems to me a rather staid, conventional aromatic fougère composition. All of the pieces are duly assembled and in the right place. Lavender? Check. Coumarin? Check. Bergamot? Check. Geranium? Check. Dash of spice? Check. Maybe even a touch of oakmoss. The result? A very traditional “barbershop” style masculine that, while perfectly serviceable, competes in very crowded territory.

Bigger, more ambitious alternatives like Jules, Equipage, Lauder for Men, or Arquiste’s new Él offer greater complexity and character. Brighter, sprightlier competitors like Aramis Tuscany per Uomo offer more grace and humor. All stand on the broad shoulders of Azzaro pour Homme, granddaddy of the genre, which still smells richer and deeper than the Floris at a fraction of the price.

Nice enough, in the end, but liable to get lost in the shuffle.
17th September, 2017

Gentry Jockey Club by Oriza L. Legrand

Genre: Leather

The briefest of citrus top notes gives way to an accord of sharp, rooty vetiver and animalic leather, which holds sway for the first portion of the scent’s development. Over time the vetiver grows somewhat more mellow and nuttier in character, so that the overall texture softens appreciably. Within an hour or so, a sweet, soft tobacco emerges to join the vetiver and leather in a tripartite structure that remains in place until the far reaches of the drydown. The leather, vetiver, and tobacco maintain a delicate balance, and the fragrance projects an overall air of sophisticated comfort that I very much enjoy.

While by no means weak, Gentry Jockey Club wears somewhat close to the skin, and does not seem to leave a great deal of sillage. On the other hand, its primary materials are such that it endures quite well, and I can detect it readily for at least eight hours after application. The far drydown consists largely of vetiver, with faint echoes of the leather and tobacco peeking through from time to time. Altogether I find Gentry Jockey Club very satisfying to wear, and while it’s neither highly innovative nor viscerally exciting, there is a certain elegant poise about this scent that has merit in its own right.
10th September, 2017

Night Veils : La Botte by Byredo

Genre: Leather

I’ll be the first to admit that I’m unfairly predisposed to like a fragrance whose name translates as “The Boot.” Yet La Botte really is quite nice. As befits Byredo’s pricing, this is a plush, luxurious leather in the tradition of Chanel’s Cuir de Russie. The boot in question is Prada or Ferragamo, straight out of the box and shiny-new. The leather accord is rich, natural-feeling, and layered, with what smells like plenty of birch tar in the mix. Once established, La Botte’s leathery heart is both lasting and linear, with more than adequate projection, considerable sillage, and several hours’ duration. Unless you’re a leather completist, you probably don’t need this if you’ve already got the Chanel. But if you don’t, and you’re looking for a cushy, expensive leather that smells like what it cost you, then La Botte is definitely worth sampling.
09th September, 2017

Vanille d'Iris by Ormonde Jayne

Genre: Floral Oriental

Does what it says on the label. A straightforward sweetened orris root with a vanilla drydown. I can’t find much to say about this one, and I can’t say it does much for me. Seems to be made from nice materials, but that’s about it. Geza Schoen has done much more interesting work for this house.
03rd September, 2017

Mandala by Masque

Genre: Woody Oriental

For all its complicated pyramid, Mandala reads to me mostly as a straight-up frankincense composition. Its dry, craggy incense note is treated in high relief and juxtaposed with nutmeg in a manner that is suggestive of black peppercorns, though pepper is one thing I do not see listed in the published pyramid. However, if peppery incense has you imagining a Comme des Garçons Black clone, you’re barking up the wrong tree. Mandala is far less smoky than CdG Black, and lacks the older scent’s complexity and nuance. To my nose, Mandala is much more of a plain brown wrapper frankincense, more along the lines of Avignon among the CdG lineup, if considerably more harsh and jagged-edged in olfactory texture.

As Mandala develops, the dry frankincense gradually gives way to sweeter cinnamon and cloves, and there is more interest for me in this transition than in the more conventionally liturgical earlier phase. It is here, in the juxtaposition of incense and spices that the Indian connotations of the name are conjured. It is also here that Mandala channels to a degree another in the Comme des Garçons Incense Series – this time the lovely Jaisalmer, which blends incense with dried fruit and sweet spice notes. Mandala never seems to me to live up to the complexity promised by its published pyramid, but it is a perfectly pleasant, if not terribly distinguished, incense fragrance. I’m only disappointed in it insofar as Masque Milano has set itself a high bar with much more interesting and original previous releases like Montecristo, Russian Tea, and Romanza. In such fine company, Mandala can’t help feeling like an anticlimax.
23rd August, 2017