Perfume Reviews

Reviews by StellaDiverFlynn

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Total Reviews: 135

Speed Smelling 2017 Postmodern Collection : Dominique Ropion by IFF

I find it hard to describe the herbal and fruity opening of Ropion's modern Kyphi. The fruit here seems to flirt with stone fruits, but not as milky/plush as peach/apricot, nor is it tart and dark like plum. It has a sort of bright pulpiness of grape, but not necessarily in the realistic sense. As for the herbal aspect, it smells like a melange of Mediterranean aromatic herbs at the outset, but gradually grows dryer and takes on a palpable dried tobacco leaf vibe. What's more puzzling, is that there's even a ripe sourness suggesting tomato to me when combined with the green herbs.

Underneath all these, cold smoke of olibanum and myrrh arises. It initially adds a frosty twang to the overal composition, but when it's filtered more and more through the warm fruits and herbs, they merge together into a powdery honeyed myrrh with leathery, ripe dried fruits, and minty, icy sparkles of incense, to my delight, and I find it more full-bodied than Julien Rasquinet's myrrh fragrance in the same set.

The fragrance doesn't change much afterwards, although I did catch glimpses of leathery oud at one time. Its projection is moderate to soft during its 10-hour wear.

With its sensual honeyed myrrh dry down, this modern Kyphi is one of my favourites in 2017 Speed Smelling set, even though I'm still trying to figure out what I'm smelling in the opening. Moreover, it manages to craft a multi-facetted fragrance in a more expansive, transparent modern style, which I find commendable. I'd love to see it get released in the future.
23rd November, 2018

Speed Smelling 2017 Postmodern Collection : Julien Rasquinet by IFF

The opening of Julien Rasquinet's "Myrveilleuse" is surprisingly sharp. Not the enthralling aldehydic opening of myrrh though, but a strangely shrieky metallic one that's probably intended to represent flintstone/gunpowder as explained on the accompanying card. There's even a lavender undertone unpleasently reminiscent of dihydromyrcenol.

Thankfully, this metallic note doesn't persist too long. The musty, resinous, simultaneously dry and balmy myrrh soon takes the center stage after about half an hour. It's at first partnered with a meaty smoky note slightly similar to that in Le Labo Patchouli 24 for another 30 minutes, then switches to licorice and boozy amber, resulting to a spicy dried plum effect.

Once the boozy/spicy plum note calms down after another 2 hours, the myrrh really starts to shine. Its medicinal coolness, and resinous, leathery, honeyed dried fruit-like tonalities act in unison to create a very soothing skin scent. Its subtle bready texture also reminds me of Mendittorosa Osang, in which this bread-like aspect is amplified tenfold.

From then on, this fragrance remains almost a myrrh solinote. When the nuances become more muffled with time, unfortunately it comes through like a sort of sugary water with a tiny hint of patchouli. Moreover, the metallic lavender effect still reers its ugly head from time to time. Even it's nowhere near the level in Loc Dong's creation, I still struggled a bit. The sillage is overall rather soft, but the fragrance can last a good 9 hours.

As myrrh is among one of my favourite notes, this fragrance, featuring various nuances of myrrh, is very easy to enjoy for me. The round, meaty smoky note is also a very nice addition. That being said, I'm still slightly disappointed because of the choice of dihydromyrcenol-like metallic note instead of other possibilites. The relative tameness of the smokiness is also a bit frustrating, especially considering that Rasquinet is behind the two remarkable smoky fragrances from Naomi Goodsir. But I'd definitely love to see it further improved in the future.
22nd November, 2018

Speed Smelling 2017 Postmodern Collection : Domitille Michalon Bertier by IFF

Domitille Bertier aims to create a fragrance smelling of tobacco and musk, without using actual tobacco and deer musk ingredients. An exercise that is in the same vein as Bruno Jovanovic and Sophie Labbé, playing olfactory tricks as it's the essence of perfumery. The result does smell like tobacco with a bit musk, but sadly not in a pleasant way to my nose.

The fragrance is dominated by tobacco right from the start. Unfortunately, it's not the kind of lively tobacco leaves like in Tom Ford Tobacco Vanille, but weirdly pungent, plastic and metallic, reminiscent of cold cigarette ash and saccahrine preserved cherry with a hint of cinnamon spice.

This "cold cherry tobacco ash" effect is stubbornly persistent, and only gets significantly softened after 6 hours. The fragrance eventually becomes more creamy thanks to vanilla and white musk, but that heavy layer of cherry tobacco ash is still there until the end, only letting a tiny bit of artifical civet's manure-like tonality peek through very rarely. The sillage is overall heavy to moderate with a 10-hour longevity on my skin.

I don't know if this unpleasant sweet plastic and metallic effect is because of the limitation of materials, or if it needs an evaluator to provide a bit of artistic guide, but as it is, I don't particularly find it beautiful or compelling, despite its technical specialties.

21st November, 2018
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Speed Smelling 2017 Postmodern Collection : Sophie Labbé by IFF

The pitch of Sophie Labbé's creation for 2017 Speed Smelling is to compose an Eau de Cologne without actual citrus essences such as lemon or bergamot, but using ginger and elemi instead to recreate the citrus aspect, and coriander seed and pink pepper to supplement the spicy tonality. The resulting fragrance, at least to my amateur nose, is fairly convincing.

Without trying to dissect each note, upon spraying the fragrance, I can smell an invigorating burst of the lemon-y and fresh spiciness of ginger, the peppery and herbal of bergamot and a charming sappy verdency like crushing leaves between fingers, which perfectly conveys the refreshing sensation when applying an Eau de Cologne.

The fragrance then gradually loses its initial tonic energy and slightly sweetens with time. It also becomes more woody, a little bit powdery and more musky as well in its dry down. It mostly stays close to the skin, but its woody musky stage streches its longevity to at least 7 hours on my skin.

On the surface, this fragrance doesn't seem like a novelty, just a good standard Eau de Cologne with a noticeable ginger twist. But in light of its technical achievement, I find it quite successful and innovative. Although it evetually sizzles out into a soft woody musky skin scent in the dry down, I guess it's kind of unavoidable if now the longevity is an imperative demand even for Eau de Cologne type of fragrances, originally designed to be enjoyed at short moments.
20th November, 2018

Speed Smelling 2017 Postmodern Collection : Juliette Karagueuzoglou by IFF

Juliette Karagueuzoglou puts a gourmand spin to the offering to gods - incense, and the opening is indeed a mouthwatering dark chocolate composed from bitter cacao powder and a creamy coconut undertone.

Then the incense gradually rises to the surface. The accompanying card describes the employed ingredient - olibanum heart, as "cleared of its antique dust", which I find very close to how I experience the incense note here. It imparts a cool, otherwordly sensation, even minty at times, without any dusty, earthly evocation.

So far, I quite enjoy these two major components. However, a third player proves to be unpleasant to my nose: an aridly dry sensation imparted from a certain woody amber aromachemical, Amber Xtreme according to the card. Granted, it's relatively under control compared to many smoky oud or boozy amber fragrances, but it hangs above like the sword of Damocles, threatening to crack the gourmand altar at any time. I guess that this type of dry smoky sensation is probably more modern than the natural dustiness of olibanum, but as these woody amber aromachemicals are more widely used now, they also become somewhat déjà vu, and I kind wish an "ancient" dustiness for a change.

As the initial chocolate note fades with time, the fragrance becomes slightly more ambery with a subtle leathery dried fruit and creamy musky undertone, but it maintains the overall cool incense effect until the end. The sillage is quite soft, while the longevity is along 9 hours.

Karagueuzoglou's chocolate incense kind of reminds me of Fanny Bal's Nutella amber and Nelly Hachem-Ruiz's Mother Milk patchouli, because all three are a tried-and-true gourmand variation on a classic accord, especially in the indie perfumery territory. They benefit from classic training and more refined materials to appear more smooth and more composed, but also may lose the rugged artisan charm depending on one's taste. I still think this fragrance has potential and would love to see it further reworked or incorporated as a partial accord, as long as the woody amber aromachemicals are well harnessed.
19th November, 2018

Speed Smelling 2017 Postmodern Collection : Bruno Jovanovic by IFF

Bruno Jovanovic aims to recreate the memory of a woman spraying perfumes on fur collar, a glamourous image of the past. And in the accompanying card, he explained how he created the deer musk effect with today's synthetic materials in great detail, but puzzlingly, he left out the most significant player of this composition: a meaty, jammy plum-like, winey and slightly minty and medicinal patchouli-rose.

The fragrance opens with a manure-like note not dissimlar to the animalic oud accord in Nishane Afrika Olifant, but here it's much more streamlined and trimmed of much of the acrid smoke and animalic warmth, to the point that it feels somewhat sterile even though it clearly alludes to something animalic. The aforementioned patchouli-rose accord also immediately kickes in, and swiftly relegates this docile animalic note into a footnote.

The clean powdery white musk effect does become slightly more perceptible with time, which makes this fragrance in my mind like 80% jammy purple patchouli-rose + 20% clean white musk-patchouli-rose à la Margiela Lazy Sunday Morning and Narciso Rodriguez for Her EDP. A briny effect can also be perceived at the periphery at one point, but it crashes into the mighty patchouli-rose rock in no time.

The fragrance then keeps this monotonous pounding drumbeats of jammy yet medicinal patchouli-rose for hours and hours, with the only saving grace in the late dry down after 10 hours, when the musk finally integrates into the rose, creating a musky, honeyed rose effect. More sensual than the previous phases, but still comes off quite rigid and robotic compared to other musk fragrances.

The sillage of this fragrance is quite powerful, and the longevity almost over 12 hours, only amplifies its tiresome nature.

Out of the 14 compositions, Jovanovic's composition is among the most disappointing to me. Because most of the accompanying cards actually describe their matching fragrance very well, Jovanovic's omission of rose (he apparently did use rose according to a post of blogger greekgoddess) and emphasis on musk created a strongly disconnected experience to me. Even though later on I came to view it as primarily a patchouli-rose fragrance with certain musk facets, I find the patchouli-rose here pretty routine as the type featured in modern "majestic" rose fragrances, thus not very inspiring. And the musk accord doesn't seem to integrate with the patchouli-rose matrix, either, and sadly almost get completely crushed by it until late dry down. In the end, it's not as sensual as those rose-musk with real musk, not as edgy as Imaginary Author Bull's Blood, and can't really distinguish itself from the myriad of patchouli-rose, either.
16th November, 2018

Speed Smelling 2017 Postmodern Collection : Jean-Christophe Herault by IFF

This Jean-Christophe Hérault creation opens with a seamless blend of bitter liqueur, hints of preserved cherry, a tannic woody undertone and bright orange flavour that creates a very convincing Grand Marnier accord, along with a delicious whiff of cacao powder.

The fragrance mostly maintains this boozy accord throughout. While it loses the cacao note after about 30 minutes, a soft vanilla creaminess creeps up around the boozy accord and evokes a pina colada/preserved stone fruits impression to me, depending on the proportions of creamy, boozy and fruity elements.

The patchouli backbone becomes more discernable after 3 or 4 hours, and the fragrance also turns a tiny bit more ambery with time, although the pina colada impression more or less remains. I also occasionally get allusions of honeyed fruity rose as well. The sillage is moderate to soft, while the longevity is at least 7 hours.

I don't often enjoy boozy fragrances, because their booziness are usually very overpowering, likely boosted by woody amber aromachemicals to satisfy the obsession of strong sillage/extreme longevity. Combined with the often lack of nuance, the result can be very tiring to me. But here, the facetted, tender creation of Hérault avoided the major pitfalls, which turns it into a very enjoyable boozy scent. I'd love to smell it integrated into a complete formula one day, provided it's not reworked into a brutal sillage monster.
15th November, 2018 (last edited: 16th November, 2018)

Speed Smelling 2017 Postmodern Collection : Epicene Gamma / Nicolas Beaulieu by IFF

This modern interpretation of Epicène Gamma base smells refreshingly green and herbal, with the leafy greenery of geranium, powdery verdency of lentisque and the grassy bitterness of clary sage evoking "white tea" to my nose. There is also a steamy clarity upon these vegetal notes that makes me think of "green pea". Occasional surges of peppery sparkles among the verdant elements also bring to mind "green bell pepper" as well.

However, the fragrance is still rather abstract as a whole, despite the aformentioned evocations. With the underlying sour, citrusy woods, it indeed has a retro vibe like those 70's/80's fresh masculine colognes, but illuminated by modern radiance and transparency.

The fragrance gradually loses its opening green freshness with time, but generally maintains the same olfactory profile throughout. The sillage is more or less close to skin and it lasts at least 8 hours.

Considering it as an updated version of a base created during the 70's, I find it quite successful in appealing to modern sensibilities without completely shaking off its classic heritage. Its nuanced green aspect is also closer to what I had imagined prior to sampling Comme des Garçons Amazingreen. However, one caveat I have is that I hardly detect any leathery facet described in the accompanying booklet.

14th November, 2018

Speed Smelling 2017 Postmodern Collection : Nelly Hachem-Ruiz by IFF

Nelly Hachem-Ruiz's interpretation of maternal milk is indeed a cozy presence of gourmand creaminess. A vanilla milk thickened by a delicate touch of creamy coconut, buttery yet starchy orris, and fluffy, almond-y heliotrope, while a subtle, comforting woody whisper from sandalwood counterbalances the potential greasy sensation. It sometimes even has a wheat-like nuance, reminding me of a bowl of cereal and milk at times.

A sharp, woody patchouli forms the backbone of the fragrance, to further undercut possible gourmand excess. And with time, it turns more earthy and medicinal, resulting occasional dried plum impression when combined with iris, fresh fig when the green aspect of patchouli crosses path with coconut-y creaminess and sandalwood, and cacao powder when holding hands with vanilla.

While these above nuances rotate among themselves, the overall impression of this fragrance remains a duet between creamy vanilla and earthy patchouli throughout its wearing. The sillage is pretty intimate, while the longevity can reach around 10 hours.

Overall, I quite enjoy this fragrance, especially its nuanced creamy vanilla milk part, homely, delicious, but without being overpowering like some gourmand milky fragrances can be, which fits the maternal milk inspiration perfectly. However, while I understand that the introduction of patchouli might be a means to counterbalance the gourmand elements, I had anticipated a certain musky, gently animalic element to bring home the human connection of maternal milk. As a result, I find it somehow a missed opportunity, even though it's well made and pretty refined as a modern gourmand fragrance.
13th November, 2018

Speed Smelling 2017 Postmodern Collection : Anne Flipo by IFF

Just as promised in the accompanying description, Anne Flipo's modern Abrensa base is mainly divded by a soft milky sweetness and mossy woody darkness. These two aspects constantly tease contrasting tensions, yet still mingle together harmoniously throughout.

The mossy woody aspect has a surprising yet subtle metallic nuance. When combined with the sweet milkiness, it reminds me of how the milky and metallic facets in Etat Libre d'Orange Secrétion Magnifique are paired with marine saltiness of seaweed to create this repulsive-yet-intriguing effect. Here it's of course not as remotely disturbing as Secrétion Magnifique, but it does impart a certain metallic animalic darkness.

Although overall the fragrance remains more or less linear, it grows warmer and slightly more ambery with time, and sometimes gives out an abstract leathery dried fruit undertone as well. It mostly stays close to skin during its 10-hour longevity.

This fragrance being essentially a re-interpretation of a base created in 70's, I do find that when wearing it, I was wishing it being integrated into other elements to form a more complete fragrance, but it's still an absolute delight to smell on its own. What I find interesting, besides the enticing contrast between comforting milkiness and menacing mossy woods, is that it maintains the 70s retro vibe, but at the same time seems apt to go into a more futuristic setting as well, thanks to its metallic undertone. Personally, I'd love to see it one day find its way into a new creation signed by Anne Flipo.
12th November, 2018

Speed Smelling 2017 Postmodern Collection : Caroline Dumur by IFF

Caroline Dumur's proposal for 2017's Speed Smelling is a modernized carnation, with a seeming main catch of getting around the severely limited usage of eugenol, one of the major components in clove as well as in a traditional carnation accord of perfumery.

Because the carnation flowers that I'm familliar with smell almost like powdered clove to me, and because Dumur replaced eugenol with black and pink pepper, I would not describe this fragrance as a realistic carnation, but a transposed one.

The fragrance is mostly a linear affair, but meticulously constructed. A silky floral heart of rose and ylang ylang is the central pairing to my nose, hightlighting the former's honeyed suavity and tart wine-like aftertaste, as well as the later's banana peel-like duality of green astringency and sweet creaminess. The sparkles of aldehyde provide a refreshing lift to the flowers, while a subtle puff of iris powder lend a certain sophistication.

The peppers being more woody and less fiery than clove, create a cooler, sleeker personality than the warmer, more enveloping traditional carnation, and indeed more modern. But I also occasionally detect a discreet mossy woody undertone reminiscent of a very faint isobutylquinoline that pulls me back to a more classic setting, although I don't know if it's actually used or an olfactory illusion of powder, rose's greenness and other woody elements.

Among the 14 entries of 2017's Speed Smelling, Dumur's "modern carnation" is one of my favourites, and one that I'm most inclined to purchase as it is. On the surface, it's pretty straightforward as a composition, but the different facets of floral rotate and glitter with time, contributing to its natural sensation while still maintaining a clarity and accomdating to modern taste, which I find quite successful. Here's hoping that it will be released as a fragrance itself or as a main accord of a fragrance one day.

09th November, 2018

Speed Smelling 2017 Postmodern Collection : Loc Dong by IFF

When Loc Dong stated in the booklet about the overdose of dihydromyrcenol, he's not joking. While there are whiffs of creamy tuberose from afar, the opening of this "seven sins of perfumery" when sniffed up close, is actually a massive assault of this molecule to my nose, reminiscent of metallic lemon and lavender, and inevitably reminding me of those unpleasant times when someone walked into a metro or an elevator with a cloud of masculine sports cologne, thus a cloud of dihydromyrcenol.

Thankfully, the mentholated greenness of tuberose and the bitter verdency of galbanum burst into the scene soon enough. This combination slightly reminds me of the same pairing in Naomi Goodsir Nuit de Bakélite, but the general impression is completely different due to the significant presence of dihydromyrcenol. While these additional green facets help me to disassociate the overall scent from "mass-market men's cologne" connotation, the metallic and mineral aspects of dihydromyrcenol turns these green leaves into inorganic sharp blades.

These green aspects retreat to the sidelines after about 1 hour, and the remainder of the fragrance becomes essentially a dual between this sharp metallic note, and the slightly meaty but mostly suave and creamy tuberose. As I love tuberose but hate prominent metallic dihydromyrcenol, smelling this fragrance is like going through many jump-scares throughout the day: just when I thought, oh what a lovely tuberose, I got a savage bite from these metallic teeth.

As for the maltol and Cosmofruit mentioned in the booklet, I don't particularly detect the caramel/cotton candy aspect of the former, or the quince and tatin tarte characteristics of the later as individual notes, but the tuberose does have a subtle candied and peachy/fruity undertone that might stem from them. And it more candied, musky, even slightly leathery with time, although the overall floral tonality is still dominant. While the metallic facet does mellow with time, it still remains at the horizon, like a curse that will never go away.

Its sillage is strong to moderate, and it easily lasts more than 10 hours.

I love the pairing of creamy, voluptuous tuberose with fierce green elements in general for the intriguing contrast of texture and scent, and combining them with sharp metallic notes also seem an interesting idea at least on paper. In this "seven sins", I couldn't really get past my hatred towards dihydromyrcenol, but it can surely be marketed as a provocative perfume from an avant-garde niche house, and I'm definitely interested in smelling a version with a different type of metallic notes.
05th November, 2018

Speed Smelling 2017 Postmodern Collection : Alexis Dadier by IFF

The fragrance composed by Alexis Dadier for 2017 Speed Smelling indeed smells to me like how he summed up in the accompanying booklet: "vegan" and "milk".

There's a sharp woody twang in the opening reminding me nail polish, but it's soon engulfed by a warm sweet milk note, along with a strange, sour, fermented vegetation-like smell.

Various nuances come forward at different moments. When something tannin-like and smoky comes through and aligns with the fermented vegetation note, I'm reminded of fermented tea leaves and milk tea as a whole. When a powdery texture and the invigorating spiciness of cardamom make an appearance, the fragrance vaguely recalls rice desserts from South East Asian cuisine to me.

Unfortunately, the creamy milkiness and that sour vegetal note seem too forceful to share any spotlight with other nuances, and largely overshadow them, which results to a rather stagnant "sour mandarine sitting in stale milk for too long impression" to me. Moreover, with its heavy to moderate sillage and a rather excellent longevity (still easily detectable after 10 hours), it quickly becomes tiring to my nose.

In principle, I quite like this kind of juxtaposition between milky elements and something vegetal/smoky/bitter/spicy to cut through it. While this aesthetics is often employed in chai or South East Asian dessert-themed perfumes, I hadn't yet encountered this simultaneously repulsive yet intriguing fermented vegetation aspect incorporated by Dadier. Personally, I'd hope this composition would tone down a bit its creamy milkiness to let other nuances bring in more dynamics, but as it is, I can imagine it being put out by a niche brand with an "unconventional" or "rebellious" identity.
02nd November, 2018
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Speed Smelling 2017 Postmodern Collection : Fanny Bal by IFF

The very first moment of Fanny Bal's creation for 2017 Speed Smelling is reminiscent of the warm, fatty smell of butter, or more precisely, an ingredient pretty close to the top notes of Serge Lutens Jeux de Peau and Kyse Douceur Brûlée.

Within seconds, a dusty, bitter cacao soon chimes in. The combined effect does strongly remind me of Nutella! Not only is there the obvious creamy milky chocolate taste, but also the deliciously nutty yet rich and oily flavour of hazelnut.

This Nutella phase generally starts to fade within 20 minutes. The fragrance first turns into a standard boozy plum amber during 3 hours, with occasional teases of faint peppery spiciness as well as a mineral nuance I associate with ambroxan. It then becomes a comforting, milky vanilla skin scent for the remainder of the fragrance. The resinous, slighty spicy labdanum, along with the woody, leathery, rum-like and tobacco tonalities of vanilla, grows slightly stronger towards the end. But overall they're still quite faint, and the fragrance maintains its tender and cozy nature.

The sillage is moderate at first, and quickly remains close to skin, although the longevity can easily reach 10 hours.

According to the accompanying booklet, Fanny Bal intends to update historical amber bases such as Ambre 83 to modern taste by attempting a gourmand interpretation, which I find overall successful. The vivid Nutella opening act is very impressive, with flavour and texture and all, and the later stage indeed feels coherent to the modern taste preferring a more streamlined style, although not without subtle intrigues. Even though it's intended as a base and can feel a bit simplistic as a fragrance, I would not be surprised if it becomes popular among gourmand fans with the right marketing strategy.
30th October, 2018 (last edited: 19th November, 2018)

L'Innommable by Serge Lutens

After last year’s Bourreau des Fleurs, Serge Lutens seems to continue his olfactory exploration of immortelle with this year’s L’Innommable.

The fragrance opens with delicious dried stone fruits. Apricots, plums and peaches are carefully dried under the sun, then spiced up by cumin, piquant but not necessarily sweaty. A few drops of honey and caramel drip from the immortelle and benzoin onto the dried fruits, just enough to complement their sweet flavour without thickening the texture. Finally, a pinch of salt rounds everything up, amping up the gourmand sensation without leveling up the sweetness.

This kind of spicy dried fruits appearing rather frequently in Lutens’ compositions, it’s now widely regarded as one of his olfactory signatures. As a result, L’Innommable instantly pops a few names into my head: Arabie, El Attarine and the aforementioned Bourreau des Fleurs. I didn’t compare them side by side, but from my memory, I’d say the spices, especially the cumin, play a much stronger role and are overall sharper in Arabie than in L’Innommable, while Bourreau des Fleurs feels more caramel-y. El Attarine has the least fruity elements out of these four, but its emphasis on honeyed caramel-cumin duality of immortelle combined with a certain dense animalic muskiness makes it closer to L’Innommable in the dry down.

To be clear, L’Innommable doesn’t have the same muskiness as El Attarine, but it achieves a similar effect via the intermediate of something reminiscent of tuberose and sandalwood. The tuberose is not at all camphorated or diffusively sweet or creamy, but somehow is bent inward and rendered densely nutty by the sandalwood-like nuance. These two emerge from underneath about 1 hour in, lending the dried fruits a surprisingly leathery touch. The combined effect is not dissimilar to the leathery immortelle-tuberose of Histoires de Parfums Tubéreuse 3 Animale.

L’Innommable then stays more or less the same until the end, with occasion woody smokes sizzle through the musky tuberose and leathery dried fruits. The sillage is relatively close with an 8-hour longevity on a hot day.

Overall, I quite enjoy L’Innommable, especially its leathery and musky tuberose twist on the immortelle and his signature spicy dried fruits. However, the fact that it reminds me of several other fragrances does make me pause. Granted, its price, while high-end, is not the most outrageous in that category. But it doesn’t seem as efficient as other more reasonably priced immortelle or immortelle-tuberose fragrances, either. Personally, I’d be more excited if it was released in the regular range, but if you happen to be exploring immortelle in perfumery, it would be interesting to sample too.
17th October, 2018

Le Participe Passé by Serge Lutens

Le Participe Passé opens with fresh mandarine surprisingly coated with tiny sparkles of aldehyde, reminiscent of the similar aldehydic opening of Laine de Verre and Dent de Lait, but of course much much softer in the case of Le Participe Passé.

The fragrance is then swiftly dominated by resins, which I perceive mostly as benzoin and opoponax, surrounded by immortelle and over a slightly boozy woody undertone. They combine to form a soothing, suavely basamic woody smell, which is not unlike Lutens' own Chêne but Le Participe Passé is more resinous in comparison. There are occasional suggestions of caramel and chocolate but they never fully unleash their sweetness. Dried fruits are also hinted, but it smells more like the smooth leathery texture of dried date skin than stewed molasses.

There isn't much of any change once the fragrance settles into the smooth and comforting resinous woody dry down. The sillage is relatively soft, while the longevity is about 8 hours on a hot day.

On its own, I find Le Participe Passé very enjoyable and very fitting to Lutens' signature woody oriental style. But its ressemblance to Chêne leaves me conflicted. I love Chêne and the ressemblance itself is not necessarily problematic, it's that Le Participe Passé feels like a glossed version, with the interesting woody details covered up by sweet resins. While this makes Le Participe Passé more cozy, it loses some characters in return, and it's not like that Chêne was the more difficult or eccentric one among Lutens' offerings to begin with, which it certainly is not.

But still, its price and availability compared to Chêne is definitely an advantage. If you happen to be looking for a versatile, cozy, easy-to-wear woody balsamic fragrance, you may want to give Le Participe Passé a try.
17th October, 2018

Mont de Narcisse by L'Artisan Parfumeur

Mont de Narcisse opens with refreshing bergamot and transparent woody pepper, but soon turns darker with the addition of sweet tart, softly boozy and fleshly plums, and slightly smoky, phenolic birch.

These two opposite aspects are then quickly reconciled thanks to the appearance of the leather. Here, it's slightly rubbery, exhibits a hay-like nuance and a subtle saffron hint as well, but at same time evokes a supple, velvety texture, much like suede. The plum and birch feel like natural complements to the suede. Not only do their olfactory profile overlap, the contrast between the lusciousness of plum and the austere, dry, phenolic aspect of birch enriches the whole suede/leather effect.

The fragrance turns slightly more resinous and more suave in the dry down, thanks to the immortelle rounding it off with its adorable honeyed warmth and smokiness. The sillage is rather close, while the longevity is around 8 hours.

Throughout its development, Mont de Narcisse reminds me of Hermès Cuir d'Ange and Givenchy Cuir Blanc. The former, because the suede note in both fragrances are quite similar, but the suede in Mont de Narcisse is not seen through an ethereal veil of heliotrope nor is it adorned by flickers of cumin like in Cuir d'Ange. Instead, it feels darker and more lavish. Meanwhile, my reminder of Cuir Blanc is mostly due to that both open with lightweight pepper and fresh bergamot, then focus on a suede note. But again, Mont de Narcisse appears richer in layers thanks to the supporting trio of plum, birch and immortelle, while Cuir Blanc chooses white musk to create a cleaner, more luminous effect.

However, as much as I enjoy the overall suede fragrance that is Mont de Narcisse, I can't help but ask:

Where is the narcissus?

Sure, the narcissus might have played a role in summoning a hay-like aspect to the suede note, but it doesn't appear as a clearly defined note any time during the entirety of its development on my skin, at least not in a way that I'm more familiar with, of the enticing juxtaposition of horse, barnyard, hay, green sap and white flowers. Instead, Mont de Narcisse is a suede fragrance through and through. A very lovely one for sure, but for a fragrance whose name literally translates to "hill/mountain of narcissus", I feel a prominent suede fragrance is not what I signed up for.

As a result, I'd refrain from recommending Mont de Narcisse as a narcissus fragrance, but rather a slightly balsamic and suave modern fruity suede fragrance.
12th October, 2018

Mandarina Corsica by L'Artisan Parfumeur

On my skin, Mandarina Corsica is mostly a play-off between two competing accords, namely juicy mandarin and creamy caramel. The madarin scores first with not only its vividly realistic succulent pulps, but also its slightly bitter, even metallic pith, while the caramel looms around the edge. Then the caramel gathers force in the next two hours to gain equal footing with the mandarin.

The caramel in Mandarina Corsica is thankfully not one-dimensional, saccarine syrupiness. Instead, it has a deliciously milky, unctuous texture mimicking the sensation when a cube of caramel starts to melt on the palate. Moreover, there is also a subtle smoky facet, probably borrowed from the immortelle, that enhances the natural feeling of the caramel note, while a delicate touch of tonka beans' powdery almond nuance rounds everything off.

This middle phase of Mandarina Corsica is my favourite part, not only because the caramel note is well constructed and rich in nuances, but also because its juxtaposition with the juicy pulp and metallic pith of mandarin creates an intriguing tension as well as making the caramel appear less heavy. As a result, I'm reminded of Déliria also from L'Artisan, and Etat Libre d'Orange La Fin du Monde also signed by Quentin Bisch. Not because they smell any similar, but all three have this interesting contrast between various gourmand and metallic elements. I'm also sometimes reminded of Prada Candy at times, as both have an appetizingly unctuous yet not so heavy caramel note, but the mandarine note also plays a strong role in Mandarina Corsica.

The dry down is predictably dominated by the caramel and tonka bean about 5 hours in. Sadly, without the enticing citrus to balance, the caramel and tonka bean tend to become more sugary and flat in the end. The sillage is moderate in general, while the longevity can reach to 10 hours.

I initially dismissed Mandarina Corsica as uninteresting upon first sniff, having thought it's merely capitalzing the gourmand trend. But when the different nuances unfold themselves in the course of its development, I was pleasantly surprised. However, I'm still slightly disappointed by the safe and monotonous dry down, especially because of the potential shown by this surprising juxtapostion of two well realised accords. Nevertheless, I think it's worth at least sampling it, even if gourmand fragrances are not one's favourite genre and just for a fun olfactory experience.
12th October, 2018

Carat by Cartier

The opening of Cartier Carat is surprisingly powerful, with a pungent green sappy aroma reminiscent of hyacinth, but not as quite realistically vegetal and somehow shimmering with a metallic sheen of aldehyde, and even mixed with a hit of that cyanide astringency of bitter almond, like an alien plant gilded in silver metal oozing neon green poison.

Carat takes on a more innocent persona with time, when the initial futuristic green aldehyde aspect dissipates to reveal a pristine, dewy, clean abstract musky floral. I'm unable to identify any specific flower in the note list, but the whole effect reminds me mostly of freesia, adorned with tiny sparkles of mineral and aquatic nuances.

The fragrance then remains more or less the same afterwards, only turning more musky and abstract with time until the end. The sillage of Carat is relatively soft, while the longevity is around 8 hours on me.

Although I'm unable to envision all the rainbow colours implied in press release, Carat indeed evokes sparkling diamonds quite well, from the clean, bright, crystalline musky floral to the mineral/metallic accents. The confident, vigorous green aldehydic opening also leaves a strong impression before the perfume falls back to a more familiar, versatile, modern clean musky floral. If you enjoy this type of fragrance in general but would like something with a stronger personality, Carat is worth considering in my opinion.
28th September, 2018

Nomade by Chloé

Chloé Nomade opens with juicy succulence of Mirabelle plum, sweeter, sunnier and less astringent than regular purple plums. I previously encountered this note in Givenchy Dahlia Divin, in which it tends to be ripen and stewed, quite heavy and opaque, while in Nomade, this Mirabelle plum feels more breezy and fresher, thanks to the powerful current of clean musk and dewy, aquatic freesia blowing from the heart. However, while the fruity and floral notes feel overall quite airy during the first 3 hours, the fragrance has an oddly irritating, scratchy texture especially in its moderate sillage.

Thankfully, Nomade turns smoother in the dry down. With the screechy sillage gone, now the fragrance sits close to skin, revealing a soft musky mossy cushion on which lay a few plums, a combined effect of fruity notes and patchouli. The longevity I got is around 8 hours.

To me, Nomade is a quintessential neo fruity chypre of our modern era. The basic stone fruit + musky mossy base is there, but it's designed as eager to please, sterilised and deprived of any earthy, vegetal or animalic warmth, and with certain aromachemicals to boost its sillage while bringing a grating texture as a sid-effect. However, even though it's not my cup of tea, I appreciate its relative lack of caramel sweetness compared to most gourmand fruitchouli in today's market, and its relative smooth mossy musky dry down. Nomade might be an option to consider for those who are graduating from sweet fruitchouli fragrances but aren't yet ready to step too much out of comfort zone.
28th September, 2018

Champ de Fleurs by L'Artisan Parfumeur

Even though they're not listed in the pyramid, Champ de Fleurs strikes me as a foremost tuberose-gardenia fragrance. The initial opening of the softly bitter grapefruit pith quickly reveals the fleshy heart of tuberose and gardenia. The creamy sweetness is very restrained here, so much so that it feels almost like a nutty sweetness when the cedar starts to whisper in the background later on. The cheese-like butteriness of gardenia purrs quietly under the blanket of clean white musk, just enough to provide a certain intrigue but far from threatening the overall lighthearted mood of the fragrance.

The sillage of Champ de Fleurs is mostly intimate, and it lasts around 6-7 hours on me.

I initially thought of Champ de Fleurs as very similar to La Chasse aux Papillons EDT - one of the most successful L'Artisan Parfumeur offerings, and last year's Roger & Gallet Tubéreuse Hédonie, all three composed by Anne Flipo. After comparing them side by side, I still think that they're interchangeable to a certain extent, as all three share the similar tuberose heart and all three fill the same spot of a pretty, girl-next-door type of tuberose fragrance. But there are still noticeable differences, with Tubéreuse Hédonie being the closest to a tuberose soliflore, exchanging the buttery cheese aspect of gardenia with the vegetal and somewhat chalky undertone of tuberose, while the hay-like nuance of linden blossom in La Chasse aux Papillons becomes much more apparent in comparison. As a result, Champ de Fleurs turns out to be more creamy, more musky and less vegetal, even though marginally so. It's certainly a very wearable, everyday type of tuberose fragrance. Adequate for sure, but I'm afraid it doesn't have much anything new to say, and I doubt it would make much impression to hardcore tuberose fans.
14th September, 2018

Champ de Baies by L'Artisan Parfumeur

Champ de Baies is a rather straightforward red berries solinote fragrance on me.

When sprayed on skin, the fruity sweetness of blackberry and raspberry immediately takes charge. Unfortunately, none of the earthy green tartness of rhubarb or any other vegetal elements come through. Maybe it's because of the eau de cologne concentration, or the lack of a prominent caramel note, the fruity sweetness of red berries thankfully doesn't feel too saccharine. However, Champ de Baies is still pretty monotonous throughout its wear.

A clean patchouli pops up here and there with time, but it's mainly a meek cedar-white musk raft that the red berries latch on in the dry down. Champ de Baies now essentially smells like the dry down of the 2006 Nina by Nina Ricci on my skin, albeit slightly more refined and less sweet.

The longevity of Champ de Baies is around 6-7 hours on me, and it stays rather close to skin for the most time.

While the first two instalments of L'Artisan's Cologne series seemingly aim at reinventing eau de cologne, Champ de Baies no longer adheres to the structure, but is more like a diluted version of a conventional sweet red berries-clean musk fragrance. It's surely a pretty perfume, but not necessarily remarkable among the crowded fruity floral genre. I'd recommend it to those who enjoy the dry down of Nina Ricci Nina, but find the first few hours too sweet and have more budget.
13th September, 2018

Eau de Givenchy (2018 version) by Givenchy

The 2018 version of Eau de Givenchy is a quite straightforward eau de cologne on my skin, with a slightly more pronounced feminine touch of tender floral and cottony musk.

The first 3 hours of Eau de Givenchy is dominated by the refreshingly bitter green petit grain and its more floral cousin, the verdant neroli. The orange blossom provides a suave, faintly indolic backdrop, while the various citrus fruits only briefly offer a few glimpses at the very first moment. With Eau de Givenchy focusing more on the petit grain-neroli-orange blossom trio instead of sparkling citrus fruits or Mediterranean aromatic herbs, the fragrance leans more traditionally feminine to my nose.

Its focus on neroli and its cousins also reminds me of Tom Ford Neroli Portofino and Frederic Malle Cologne Indélébile. However, while they're interchangeable to a certain extent, Eau de Givenchy differs more significantly in the dry down, with its more substantial, cotton-y yet slightly metallic musk adding more heft and rendering it more opaque comparing to the sharper, leaner, soapier and somewhat more "robotic" Neroli Portofino, or the more refined and traditional Cologne Indélébile. Although I haven't yet compared them side by side, the prominently musky dry down of Eau de Givenchy is reminiscent of that of Byredo Blanche's to my nose, more than other eau de cologne-type of fragrances.

The sillage of Eau de Givenchy is moderate to soft, while the longevity is at least 8 hours on me.

As I haven't yet had the opportunity to smell the original Eau de Givenchy, I don't have any direct comparison to offer. But there's no doubt that this brand new version of Eau de Givenchy smells like a product conceived to fit and made in our modern era, rather than one trying to convey vintage characteristics.

Without prior knowledge of the original version, I find this 2018's Eau de Givenchy an adequate eau de cologne-style fragrance, centred around green neroli and vaporous, clean white musk, and marginally more feminine than most colognes. Although arguably less polished and less nuanced than many neroli-white musk fragrances put out by well-known niche brands, the price and the accessibility of Eau de Givenchy nevertheless put it at a relative advantage. I'd recommend it as a gateway clean neroli-white musk perfume from mainstream designer brands.
07th September, 2018

Irisoir by Sultan Pasha

Smelling Irisoir, right from the opening, is a deeply satisfying experience to me. The orris is the unequivocal star of the first half hour, an exquisite delicacy of velvety, even buttery richness, violet-tinted woody elegance and just a hint of its rooty quirkiness. At the same time, a honeyed, slightly powdery floral heart steadily grows. Carnation, mimosa, lilac, almond-y helitrope are intricately intertwined into a fleecy bedding over smooth sandalwood and soft balsams, a luxurious, velvety mattress so soothing that the orris could all but fall deep within. This middle phase reminds me quite a bit of L'Heure Bleue, especially the sumptuous extrait de parfum (my reference is one from 90s). But Irisoir has a much stronger presence of orris and less of the anisic spiciness, tonka bean and other oriental elements. As a result, Irisoir feels much more floral in comparison, and more delicate and vibrant as well.

A quiet whisper of peach can be heard throughout the composition as well. It's at first slightly bitter and woody besides its sweet-tart fruitiness, like the flavour close to its stone. When the elegant and enveloping floral heart gradually softens after about 6 hours, the peach gains a bit more prominence. It's now a tender fruity warmth mingled with the dainty, honeyed petals of rose, rendered suede-like thanks to the ever so plush orris. Irisoir maintains this adorably silky skin scent of orris, violet, peach and rose over a discreet salty vetiver until it disappears with a total longevity of at least 10 hours. It mostly stays close to the skin, although it projects slightly during its opening hour.

Irisoir is described by some writers as a close contender to the mythical Iris Gris. As I've never smelt the original vintage version or the reconstructed one in Osmothèque, I can't provide any comparison. But I would say that the peach is more like a supporting actor in this star-studded attar. And the L'Heure Bleue association stemming from its abstract yet nectarous, powdery floral heart, rather evokes to me the perfumery of the early 20s century, like Sultan Pasha himself described it as a tribute to La Belle Epoque. That being said, Irisoir does not feel like a mere copy, but a timeless beauty that truly is inspired by the classic perfumery and moves forward in a certain artisitic direction with the help of quality materials and exquisite blending. I'd highly recommend giving it a try, especially if you are an orris/iris fan or if you enjoy warm floral oriental à la L'Heure Bleue.
29th June, 2018

Scent of Hope by Dawn Spencer Hurwitz

DSH Scent of Hope opens with an intense peach note. This peach is no longer the juicy, luscious fruit fresh from the branch, but carefully dried under the sun, having absorbed the warm energy of sunlight. Its sweet-tart flavour and even the discreet bitterness close to the core feel concentrated yet sublimely balanced. This dried fruit sensation is further underscored by the dusty, slightly spicy even anise-y violet, reminiscent of the violet note in Caron Aimez-Moi.

The orris does not manifest itself in a distinctive way on my skin. But after about 40 minutes, when the dusty spicy violet starts to soften, the plush, velvety texture of orris renders the previous dried peach more pulpy again. Underneath the peach flesh, there is also occasionally a papery, even slightly starchy touch, which might be a combined effect of orris and ambrette.

Scent of Hope then maintains this palpable, suede-like peach skin scent during the rest of its development. I can't really discern any other ingredients such as the civet or the moss in it. They help to complete this lavish peach-orris-violet accord rather than distracting from it. The sillage is mostly moderate and it usually stays about 10 hours on my skin.

As I've never smelt vintage Iris Gris or the Osmothèque reconstruction, I can't provide any comparison. When compared to the recently released L'Iris de Fath, the orris in Scent of Hope seems to be more quiet, mostly supporting the radiant peach rather than performing a pas de deux. And it has a stronger presence of a deliciously dusty and anise-y violet in the opening, while its dry down is more homogenous, lacking the multilayers of carnation and green moss in L'Iris de Fath.

Regardless of comparisons which depends mostly on one's preferences, Scent of Hope is definitely beautiful and charismatic. Smelling it really makes me feel sunny, happy and optimistic, thanks to its lush, bright, harmonious blend of peach and orris. Me being a fan of Caron Aimez Moi, that dusty spicy violet in the opening is also a welcoming touch for me. I would definitely recommend giving it a try if you're interested in exploring the magic pairing of peach and orris.
24th June, 2018 (last edited: 26th June, 2018)

Narciso by Narciso Rodriguez

Narciso Eau de Parfum continues the tradition of Narciso Rodriguez's beloved white musk, but this time, contrary to the For Her and Essence lines, the musk in Narciso takes the back seat.

The notes in Narciso seem to be consciously kept undefined and non-realistic. The opening is a dewy, refreshing, even sharp floral that reads more like watery magnolia than gardenia to me, but as a milky, even nutty undertone develops over time, the abstract floral accord gradually shifts towards the direction of gardenia.

Because of its overall nebulous nature, Narciso evolves in an incremental way: the floral sweetness is little by little taken over by an opaque woody amber, further underlined by the prune-like tart-sweetness of rose. While I can understand the aesthetic of deliberately maintaining an artificial, non-natural feeling in a composition and appreciate it in a few innovative fragrances, unfortunately in Narciso, the sharp synthetic cedar, the densely opaque amber, the creamy white musk, and the nebulous sweet floral, all together create an combined effect of plastic doll out of laundry, a smell and an image that I don't particularly enjoy.

The late dry down sees the woody amber fading away, allowing the signature clean patchouli and white musk combination of the For Her series to surface and to stay until it completely disappears after about 10 hours. The sillage is mostly moderate throughout.

Being a fan of the previous For Her and Essence lines, I had high hope for Narciso. But in the end, the Egyptian musk that I find utterly memorable in For Her plays only a minimal role, and the amorphous and intentional artificial interpretation of floral and woody amber, while interesting on paper, eventually rub me the wrong way in execution. Suffice to say that Narciso is not my cup of tea. But I can understand how its opaque, nebulous nature can be seen as a mysterious, enveloping aura. If you enjoy modern clean abstract fragrances in general and are looking for a warm floral ambery musk, you may want to give Narciso a try.
09th June, 2018

Black Afgano by Nasomatto

Given the hype surrounding Black Afgano, the fragrance itself is surprisingly quiet and abstract in general. It opens with a slightly animalic oud accord and acrid burnt incense, but soon mellows into a dense yet clean musk and creamy tobacco, with a discreet amber warmth humming underneath.

Speaking of the cannabis note, I can't vouch for it as I haven't any experience with any kind of drug substance. But the fragrance does have a faint yet sharp herbal twang which I find similar to that in Jardin d'Ecrivains Junky and Smell Bent Mountain HIgh. While this note is fairly strong in Junky and Mountain High, it's really only a whisper in Black Afgano, which I consider primarily a nebulous tobacco oud fragrance.

The fragrance doesn't have much significant development during its almost 11 hour longevity, and remains mostly close to skin.

Black Afgano is consistent in style with the other Nasomatto fragrances, relying heavily on certain synthetic smoky oud accords which unfortunately is not my cup of tea, although Black Afgano is thankfully not as heavy-handed as their later entries. And despite its hype and mystery, it's not that controversial olfactorily speaking. If you enjoy the latest viril woody amber trend, but prefer a relatively quieter fragrance, Black Afgano might be an adequate option to consider.
08th June, 2018

Angel Fruity Fair by Thierry Mugler

On my skin, Angel Fruity Fair is closer to the original Angel EDP than previous summer flankers such as Eau Sucrée.

Fruity Fair focuses primarily on red berries and the fiercely earthy patchouli that consist of part of Angel's signature accord, and it essentially feels like the original Angel EDP with less tropical fruits and less that deep, almost gooey caramel chocolate. As a result, I find it more streamlined than Angel EDP, but still more dense and more gourmand than the sleek Angel EDT. Moreover, since it lacks the defining note of powdery meringue in Eau Sucrée, I don't find them similar either.

The longevity of Angel Fruity Fair is a solid 10 hours on me, while the sillage is heavy to moderate.

Fruity Fair is of the standard quality of Mugler, which is pretty consistent. However, I don't consider it among those eccentric Mugler flankers that manage to be surprising, innovative yet still retaining the original's signature. In fact, I can't help finding it a bit redundant among Mugler's numerous excellent flankers. Therefore, I think it would be a good option for those who are already fans of Angel but would like a version with less caramel-chocolate and more red berries.
08th June, 2018

Ambre Gris by Pierre Balmain

Balmain Ambre Gris opens with a dash of pink pepper and a massive, sharp, squeaky clean note reminiscent of laundry products, which I don’t particularly care for. But soon enough, the sweet resins and immortelle arrive, and the olfactory landscape of Ambre Gris heads to a more interesting direction.

Benzoin and immortelle impart their languid, caramel-like golden sweetness, with immortelle adding an extra touch of bittersweet licorice alongside with musty myrrh. Despite its enveloping resinous sweetness, the fragrance curiously never feels cloying or overwhelming. Besides a pinch of balmy smoke from guaiac wood, there is also something translating as a cool powderiness akin to iris to my nose that seems to absorb any extra grease.

The most intriguing aspect though, is the initial laundry-like white musk still lurking around, now fully integrated into the resin matrix and behaving like a refreshing breeze over the golden resinous lake. Not only does it lighten the balsamic amber, it also serves as a tantalising radiance to contrast the deeper resins.

The end result is a surprisingly refreshing yet still satisfyingly cozy powdery amber skin scent. Ambre Gris stays comfortably close to skin for a total of 8 hours.

Personally, I don’t think Balmain Ambre Gris aimed at imitating the smell of ambergris, nor does it smell like the samples that I had the chance to test. I’d rather put it in the same category as Hermès Eau des Merveilles, inspired by the intriguing fresh/warm duality of ambergris and reimagining a fragrance around this central concept, even though they don’t smell like each other per se. Although I still struggle with the laundry-like opening on a personal level, overall I think Ambre Gris succeeds in recreating this duality in spirit. If you happen to be looking for a powdery, balmy amber with some freshness and if you don’t mind strong clean musk, Balmain Ambre Gris is well worth a try.
08th June, 2018

Oud Edition by Roberto Cavalli

Roberto Cavalli Oud Edition opens with an oud accord commonly seen in many western exclusive oud fragrances, sharing the leathery, earthy and slight nutty characteristics of cypriol, and devoid of any animalic, musty or musky facets of the oud. A jammy rose discreetly runs underneath, but thankfully never steps out of the shadow. Saffron provides mostly its fuzzy warmth, but none of its tantalising fruity yet bitter medicinal aspects.

The fragrance mostly remains this standard western-style oud, but with one intriguing addition: an incense note reminiscent of clean burnt dirt. Smoky, but not arid or aggressive, and it adds a surprisingly airy vibe to the otherwise dense oud accord.

The perfume doesn't go under any major development. It just becomes more creamy due to the amber and vanilla in the base. The sillage is moderate, and the longevity is around 10 hours.

Roberto Cavalli Oud Edition was released in 2013, right when the oud became so fashionable that every designer brand was producing at least one exclusive oud fragrance. Inevitably, many chose to play safe, only adding minor variation to the common oud accord, which is what this Oud Edition did in my opinion. That being said, this Oud Edition feels surprisingly smooth compared to a few smoky oud fragrances in recent years that rely heavily on certain aggressive, extra-dry woody amber aromachemicals, for which I'm grateful. If you enjoy designer oud fragrances with less emphasis on rose, Roberto Cavalli Oud Edition might be an option to consider.
07th June, 2018