Total Reviews: 19
I haven't yet met another person that likes the smell of this, but god I love it! It's like mentholated smoked ham! Santa Maria Novella fragrances so reliably elicit perturbed "What ARE you wearing!" responses that it makes me laugh. People hate it but it smells wonderful. I like to think this is the Peau d'Espagne Molly Bloom remembers wearing in the last chapter of Ulysses. Wear it for yourself. "What IS THAT you are wearing!" like it's a personal affront. Mmmmmmm, soapy tarry fatty medicated meat strips. Glorious.
In a world where perfumes routinely smell like burnt rubber or bleach, it's amazing and kind of awesome that a century-old perfume can still be this shocking.
Peau d'Espagne is almost impossibly complex but worth the effort to get to know. On one hand, it's got a bit of a Knize Ten vibe, but MUCH harsher, with the dreaded gasoline note amplified until the whole thing smells like its fumes could get you high (if they don't kill you first). The suede and flowers fit into a chypre shell, but alongside a slug of dirty, almost burnt patchouli and a generous helping of hot vinegar fumes. There's also a weird minty brightness that comes across as vaguely moldy, but it fits right in with the gasoline and vinegar, so it's actually an interesting counterbalance.
To be honest, most people, including many collectors, will think this smells awful. It exists in limited production for the classic leather fanatics and chypre fetishists and devotees of oily patchouli, flatly rejecting any attempt at mainstream appeal, which I think is brilliant.
Saddles, tack, horses.... this leather scent has them all. It is an intensely dark, dry leather that is extremely masculine; it is as timeless as the smell of horses and stables (and their timeless appeal as well). There is a medicinal note that smells a bit like saddle soap, but even more like the treated water used to wash horses before the water is scraped off, like in a Roman bath, and they are curry combed and brushed. This scent is old school, old world and old money (and worth every scent in new money terms!).
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shamu1 has said it all and very well indeed.
Dark and dry, bitter, herbal, resinous, strong, black, smoky, meaty. One of the first and greatest leathers ever made and thank goodness, still available after 113 years.
In the late 1800s/early 1900s it was one of forty Peau d'Espagnes available and one of the very few to have survived intact without any attempt to beautify the harsh real leather scent. Barbara Herman tells us that the secret is the use of linaloe berry (a cross between lavender, bergamot and mint), which gives it that dry, bitter, herbal note. Musk, amber and civet go a long way to soften the effect as it dries down.
Too bad it is so expensive - it is a great great leather and should be experienced by everyone interested in the scent. One of the most masculine scents ever made. Samples are available affordably on the internet.
Yee-haw! Saddle up cowpoke and stuff a sock down yer jocks.
One heck of a swaggering scent, which opens with a burst of sweet herbs and freshly split wood but soon finds its balance in a mix of smoky birch tar, well-used leather and a sweaty fenugreek-like note. Well-constructed, if a little piercing when sniffed up close. The sweat fades as the hours go by, and the leather gets drier and drier – and increasingly addictive. Beautiful, if somewhat challenging, stuff from the start. Funnily enough, this opens up splendidly on a summer’s day, gaining an airy dimension that the winter cold damps down.
Historical note: the name refers to the expensive scented Spanish leather items which had their heyday among the aristos of Queen Elizabeth I’s reign. Why scent your leather? To cover up the pong of having cured it in urine.
On my skin this is piirimarily a leather scent, a moderately sweet leather but mess sweet than, for instance, Creed's Royal Delight. It is intensive, with a bit of a herbal, slightly medicinal touch in the drydown at times, but really leather, leather, leather. There is never a harsh note in it, but a gently smoky touch is note. I like it, as I do the good silage and projection. Longevity of over three hours on me.
l get a mentholated opening, reminiscent to my nose of certain disinfectants, particularly Dettol. This soon gives way to a dry leather, with just a touch of sweetness when sniffed from a distance. ln the heart, the leather turns salty & animalic, like warm male skin, reminding me of Dans Tes Bras. Later still, the base is a soft, lightly powdery leather, fading out after around five hours.
l find this fragrance surprisingly cuddly, not at all harsh or austere as l was expecting. l would encourage more of you ladies out there who love leathers to try this one!
I've worn the Peau d'Espagne now for a couple of days from a sample and simply, I'm blown away.
I find it hard to describe how I feel about it. It's old yet has a modern abstract feeling about it. Very much un-mainstream. I absolutely love the birch tar note in there and that adds a real "old world" woody aspect to the fragrance. The whole time this is going on you have faint floral/herbaceous notes floating about in there and they are sitting at the side on a pillow of talc.
The star of this scent though is the medicinal/balmy/ambery binding in the base which along with the dryness of this scent, brings all the notes together. "Leather " fragrances can be cloying (GFT Spanish Leather) and can sometimes be over the top (Knize Ten). I agree with one of the previous reviews saying this is stronger than the above but it is much more perfectly balanced than any other leather I've worn before.
I had previously started a thread in the forum here about finding a scent which was the smell of walking into the entrance hall of Santa Maria Novella in Florence. A lot of answers came back but this is that scent (maybe adding in a little of SMN Pot Pourri), this is alchemy, this is Santa Maria Novella.
The smell of a perfumer in a centuries old building with surrounds just as old. Old oak which has soaked up all the fragrances past and holds those scents as memories for everyone to smell in the future.
This is simply wonderful.
Now...... to try and source a bottle.
As a great admirer of leather fragrances, I can say that this is, without a doubt, the driest and darkest leather fragrance I have ever smelled. All other leathers, even Knize Ten and Kolnisch Juchten, smell like a hot fudge sundae by comparison.
It's also got one of the most authentic smelling leather accords I've ever experienced. It smells black, smoky and meaty, without smelling like beef jerky. There are bitter, harsh herbs underlying the leather smell, and they only add to the perfume's dryness and austerity. Peau d'Espagne is so well blended, I find it difficult distinguish any of its individual notes. It just smells like hot black leather for several hours.
The drydown is my favorite part. The leatheriness tones down quite a bit after about four hours of wearing this, and what you're left with is a stark, intensely aromatic herbal drydown with hints of leather and patchouli. This is awesome.
Peau d'Espagne is almost ridiculously masculine. It belongs in the Van Cleef & Arpels Pour Homme class of brooding, unsmiling, cruel fragrances for hard-asses.
MY RATING: 8.5/10
It is a challenging perfume. It is very strong. It makes Bandit and Knize Ten quiver if that were a measure of strength.
Of course brawn is not always the solution, sometimes brain is required. Pd'E has both but bigger muscles.
Its one of the few perfumes that I only spray 3 or 4 sprays.
Stark, astringent, strict, austere are words that come to mind.
I don't wear it often, I think I can't, but when I do I enjoy it tremendously.
Oh, is this great. Finally a leather scent with no harsh isobutylquinoline!
A very natural smelling leather scent. Released in 1901, Peau D'Espagne is still very wearable and while it has a lot of the classic clichè of that time perfumery, it still shows no aging. An ante-litteram animalic leather that smells much better than most of its successors. A must try!
This is a delightful, old-school scent: at once dryly herbal and richly perfume-y. Aromatic spices and perhaps some oakmoss give this a scent like fine old fougere soap. The leather note is restrained, interesting, and elusive. This has a suave, smooth, attractive character. The notes are substantial but not heavy. They are natural-smelling, and thankfully not sweet or cloying. This one intrigues me, since I don’t usually like leather scents.
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Incredibly spicy, Peau d'Espagne is a leather concoction. But it's a 1900's leather, not at all a 1920's one, like Lanvin Scandal, Chanel Cuir de Russie, or Knize Ten. It's more natural, spicy, woody, herbal and ambery, more medicinal, but a masterpiece!
(This review is for the absolute; I applied a only very tiny amount to my wrist and distributes it well over the other arm, since this concentration is not intended to be applied directly to the skin; yes, I am a pushover for a certain kind of bottle.)
I have a weakness for leather notes, so my first request at SMN was for 'something leathery', and 'Peau d'Espagne' was naturally what was presented to me for inspection. After wandering about with it for a day, I decided that I loved it, and went back and bought it.
When first applied, this is not markedly leathery (admittedly, though, since the scent of leather comes primarily form the substances applied to the skins, rather than the skins themselves, this is a rather hazy label). Initially, notes of anise and a sort of soapiness accompany a smoky, muted spiciness. Over time, a much warmer, lightly animalic note emerges, with a suggestion of amber, way in the background. By the end of the day (and this is very persistent... I could smell it the next day, even after a lengthy shower), a muted spiciness remains, hovering over a leathery note that evokes the sun shining in on shelves of leather-bound books. This is the leather of a cosy, much-frequented old library, rather than that of the tack room or the leather bar, the sensuality that of stretching oneself out comfortably in a favourite chair, without encumbering oneself with any more clothing than the temperature demands.
I generally agree with my man everso on many fragrances, and in my never ending quest to sample every leather fragrance ever made I've come across many whose "Cuir" title did not match the actual scent. I was thus prepared to not be impressed with Peau d'Espagne, even though I'm something of an SMN devotee. Living now in Texas it took me quite a while to source a sample, and at times I almost pulled the trigger on an expensive blind buy.
On first spray I was entirely in agreement with everso - I got a blast of pungent herbs, woods, and amber that smelled little or nothing of leather. Not ready to give up, I gave it ten minutes and noticed the herbal notes were calming down and a leathery quality emerging. Within 20 minutes the herbal notes were merely a side note, and 30 minutes after application I was enjoying a terrifically smooth and rich leather fragrance. I'm not sure why SMN would devise such an opening except maybe that the myriad of notes that combine to create leather require these such an opening as a consequence of the ingredients used ((especially in an old-recipe, low/no synthetic formula like SMNs).
The leather is smooth and luxurious. There is a similarity to Chanel Cuir de Russie (pre Exclusifs) only the SMN has a distinctly more masculine feel to it, perhaps because of the herbal underpinnings that are always subtly present. I generally always get terrific longevity from SMN fragrances, despite their label as 'Acqua di Colonias' (which I don't think they are vis a vis concentration levels), and this is no exception. The leather note, once present, is linear and only fades slowly towards the end. Hints of the fragrance are present over 12 hours later, using 3 sprays.
*SIGH* Another Santa Maria Novella I'd like on my shelf.
A number of good scent companies make something called: "Spanish Leather" but in comparison, they are pale pastels compared to this gutsy leather concoction from Santa Maria Novella. The leather accord is not masked, spiced or sweetened. It is presented here as a straightforward smooth leather smell that is strong and almost gets into your throat. I have no earthly idea what makes this "Spanish", per se, but it is most assuredly quality saddle leather with all its sonorous richness. Yes, I meant sonorous rather than olfactory richness. The one magical thing about this is that it makes me think very directly of the sound saddle leather makes when it is moved or twisted-- that pulling skin sound of leather. No other leather fragrance actually makes me think of the experience with leather itself, except this one. Not for the faint of heart, but for the few who really want leather polite saddle soap.
This fragrance lingers on everything it touches like a rugged kiss from a cowboy soaked in campfire smoke and saddle leather sweat. It smells like the sexiest man you've ever seen in your life, taking a hot outdoor bath in a tin tub, smeared with sweet shaving lather and dust, steaming on a cold high-desert morning.
It smells like a bottle of Tabasco sauce which has been spilled over an ancient leather bound book. This one is a head turner, especially in today's bland aquatic world
24th February, 2006 (last edited: 05th July, 2009)