Total Reviews: 64
The opening of Borneo 1834 is most compelling. A wonderful semi-gourmand accord of patchouli and cocoa with sublime balance. The gourmand element aspect is perfectly abstract as it should be. This is followed by a camphoraceous phase that finally leads to the dusty, dry patchouli base that is cosy, and hints at the cocoa. There is no earthiness/dirt/head shop vibe, and hardly any tinge of green in the composition.
The problem with Borneo 1834 is that it dies down quickly, and is severely muted beyond the first hour, even though duration is acceptable. One star is deducted for this shortcoming. My experience is based on the old style 'Paris house logo' 50 ml export bottle. I'm not aware whether this drawback has been addressed in any later version.
The Third of May 1808 : Francisco Goya
Dark, rich, dusty combo of patchouli and cocoa. There is a sense also of freshly cut saw mill sawdust. There is also the sense of dry pipe tobaco. Very earthy and very subtle.
An excellent masculine. Some reviewers compare it to Coromandel, but I find it to be superior to that Chanel. Turin notes that silks from the orient used to be wrapped in patchouli leaves to repel insects and that this is how the West discovered the scent, which penetrated the fabric.
That said, I would imagine Borneo 1834 could successfully be sprayed on scarves, sweaters and other clothing with success, as well as on our persons.
Warm and comforting - one of Serge Lutens' best.
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Comparing Borneo 1834 to Coromandel, yes, they are almost...almost...identical. But I find Borneo more dry and spare, less sweet and luxuriantly nuanced. Honestly, most of the people around you won't be able to tell the difference; but to my nose, Borneo is Coromandel's darker cousin, hinting at dense earth and shadows cast by leafy canopies. I'm glad to have both, even if their DNA differs by only 1%.
This was one of the first niche fragrances I ever bought, and although I don't wear it that often, it brings back a rush of good memories for me. First, its dark, musty, camphorous smell reminds me of the day I bought it - a cold, blustery day in Rome, walking in dark streets before they turned the street lamps, slightly drunk from the wine we had unwisely drunk at lunch. The scent of Borneo reminds me of that perfect day, one of those rare ones actually, when we are both happy and there are no undercurrents of tension between us. Smell this, I said, offering my collar - he sniffed, then thought a bit, then sniffed again, and said "Well, that's interesting." This, coming from a man whose sole comment on my perfume in over ten years was to exclaim to our son one day, "Hey, mama sure smells like flowers, doesn't she?" (It was Coco, by the way). So, this was progress. I bought it. How could I not?
I smelled it again today, after a too-long hiatus, and what struck me about it was how the dryness of this actually reminds me of the shut up rooms and papers in our old rambling house in Ireland where I grew up. Our decrepit old house, built originally as a forge the year the Irish Famine began in 1845, was impossible to heat. All the rooms were cold, musty and damp. My brothers and I all wore about five layers of jumpers to survive the winters, and we all looked like the Stay Puft marshmallow man. My mum, a teacher, kept all her school papers and homework in a study, where it was left to gently decay over the years. Borneo smells powerfully of this noble, gentle rot, like greenish-blackish spots of damp colonizing reefs of forgotten papers. It smells like wooden boxes opened up again after years lying in moldy attics. It is incredible. Evocative and emotional, for me. God knows, I was deeply ashamed of our house growing up, but now, this woman who lives in the arse end of the dusty, hot Balkans is nostalgic for the smell of home. Borneo is the one that takes me there.
I don't find it to be very wearable, though. It is quite pungent and singular in focus compared to Coromandel, which I prefer as a wearable composition. However, Coromandel does not perform the same memory trick for me as Borneo does, so it is likely that I will hang on to Borneo and bring it out every now and then to smell it and be transported back to happy times. I know that Borneo and Coromandel get compared a lot, so for the purposes of reviewing this, I sprayed one arm with Borneo, and the other with Coromandel. You might say I had a patchouli-off! Yes, I can see the two points of intersection (the patchouli and the chocolate), but to me they are utterly different in tone and effect. Where Coromandel is creamy, luxuriant as a cat, and comforting, Borneo is raw, dry, and confrontational. Coromandel is the better composition, in my opinion, because it arranges all the notes in a symphony, where Borneo is more of a haiku - sparse and to the point. But Borneo strikes me as the more genuine and sincere of the two, as well as clearer in focus. It also has that memory box effect on me that Coromandel does and can not. There is room in my heart and my wardrobe for both of these.
Genre: Woody Oriental
Chocolate. Patchouli. There’s not much more I want to say about Borneo 1834. It’s a simple, weird, and compelling accord – I’m just not sure that I like it. My preferences aside, this is a bold, original scent, and an outstanding take on patchouli. Just try it first!
Straight out of the gate you get a wonderful blend of Patchouli and rich dark cocoa mixed in with some warm spices.
There is a woody backdrop to this scent giving the scent a old world feeling. I get a image of oak barrels filled with cocoa and spices been brought onto ships from tropical lands.
To sum up a delightful old world earthy blend of patchouli and rich cocoa.
Cardamom very noticeable. A hard landing. Smelling like a lot of people that have a structure that bends the nose.
Middle notes of mint greeted us when we came to a resinous. Perfume does not appeal to the public. Certainly not everyone will like structure.
When we come to the end of cocoa used very weak and uncertain. Patchouli is not very pronounced in the same way. The smell of cardamom and pepper are progressing in weight. Does not show much change.
Named after the year and provenance of the first South-East Asian patchouli to be introduced in Paris, Bornéo 1834 is a beautifully deep and earthy exercise on a warm tropical theme. After a sharp and intriguingly camphorous very brief opening, a glorious full-bodied patchouli soon emerges along with a distinctively dusty, almost powdery, cacao note. A typical Lutens feature, the underlying base consists primarily of sweet resins and various warm spices. After the rapid transformations in its initial phase, Bornéo 1834's subsequent development is very linear indeed, the patchouli-resins combination yielding a luxuriously deep and earthy sweetness that is both fulfilling and comforting, not to mention very long-lasting. In many ways a simple composition with a very clear and elegantly executed tropical theme, Bornéo 1834 is one of those truly great patchouli fragrances that you have to experience. Very highly recommended!
A simple but a really good and high quality fragrance.
There are 6 notes in it but you will smell mostly patchouli, cocoa and warm honey sweetness and other notes are almost impossible to detect!
The opening is a strong, sharp and earthy patchouli note mixed with heavy honey sweetness and cocoa all together.
The sweetness is strong and it's honey like. it doesn't smell like vanilla.
It's very sexy and yummy type of sweetness and it's not potent or offensive at all.
The sweetness tune down the wild and earthy patchouli very much, but still you can easily detect patchouli.
The cocoa and honey sweetness notes creating a very sexy charming scent and beside those, strong and earthy patchouli note give it a really nice masculine kick.
It's linear and you will have this combo to the end.
Projection is great and longevity is 8-10 hours which is pretty good.
I like it.
Serge Lutens fragrances never disappointed me!
Borneo 1834 is possibly one of the three-four greatest Lutens of all times in my opinion, an incredible and unique balance of earthy rawness and distinguished sophisticacy. The patchouli-cocoa accord is initially bold and prominent, carrying a load of beautiful nuances, from smoky to dusty and from dry-sweet to rooty notes, rounded by the resinous and spicy sweetness of cardamom and galbanum and enlightened by a really subtle and silky floral breeze. Herbal hints and a range of beautiful echoes, from tobacco to coffee – all the nuances of "exotic rootiness". That's pretty much it: the "grandeur" of a few, masterfully blended notes. A straightforward and overall fairly simple patchouli, yet different from all the others: it's dry, velvety, sinister, sophisticated, exotic, exuding an impressive class I rarely found elsewhere. As many other Lutens (of his "golden era"), the name fits it perfectly: in a way, you think of a refined, yet audacious Victorian explorer, and the overall darkness may even remind of a decadent romanticism à la Baudelaire – but without melancholy or abandon for sure, as the earthy and raw notes surely make Borneo a "living", adventurous fragrance. Rich, mature, oriental, mysterious refinement at its best. If I am not wrong this is discontinued or however hard to find in its early formulations, but I see sometimes that bottles appear here and there – I got my 50 ml bottle (black label, old logo) for less than a normal current Lutens – so keep looking for it, as it's definitely worth it.
26th December, 2013 (last edited: 10th August, 2014)
An uncompromising renowned patchouli with a mossy (oakmoss/ galbanum) substance, an unquestionable typical earthiness (supported by camphoraceous patterns) and a spicy/delicious cocoa soul (playing as subtle sweet undertone for a boise lingering main temperament). Still one of the best around despite (or may be due to) its simplistic approach. The sweetness is well modulated with an influencing but fairly balanced chocolatey presence. The evolution is not complicated, passing gradually from a spicy and rooty/camphoraceous beginning to a sweet and mossy dry down. Yes it owns tads of many patchouly around from Coromandel (yes sweeter) to Patchouli Leaves passing through Angel and Reminiscence classic Patchouli but i detect in particular similarities with the Patchouli Noir by il Profvmo which is equally camphoraceous but is floral and replaces the cocoa with a plain note of vanilla. Not original for sure but well crafted and slightly decadent. Can't be missed by a patchouli lover collector. Powerful.
21st December, 2013 (last edited: 06th May, 2014)
This is not a decent review. And I can't give this Lutens a fair chance because it simply reminds me too much of the original Polo--which was the everyday scent of a past SO. Perhaps I am the only person who makes this unfortunate connection.(Between it and Polo, not between it and my ex!) And perhaps you love Polo! I, too, used to think it an excellent fragrance until I smelled it all day, everyday in the company of a not-so-nice human being. So...
Truthfully, I am not a huge fan of patchouli. I love it in Bruno Acampora's musc and as an accord with other notes, but here it is definitely the star, so to speak. If however, you love patchouli and bitter chocolate and Polo in the green bottle, this could the fragrance for you!
Cons: too reminiscent of my love life"
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sexy patchouli in a jungle kick!
Thats a nice Lutens. Reminds me of Chanel Coromandel, but not as sweet and creamy. Borneo is more earthy and drier than Coromandel, also the lasting power and sillage are not as heavy as Coromandel's.
Borneo also reminds me of Montale's Patchouli Leaves, which in my opinion is even drier and more earthy patchouli. Borneo is quite linear: dry and fades dry. Thumbs up!
25th October, 2012 (last edited: 27th February, 2013)
This is great. It's like the last part of Angel that clings to clothes for weeks, only without having to suffer through the billowing clouds of fruity cotton candy to get there. The chocolate-patchouli accord happens right up front.
Borneo 1834 is better than plain patchouli because the cocoa animates the crude plant matter, making the patchouli wink and smile instead of lurking out on the back porch, rubbing the dirt off her knees until you finally invite her in.
This is patchouli done right. Ironically, I avoided trying this fragrance for years because I was put off by the reviews, which referred to it as dusty, smoky, and rubbery. I don't perceive those aspects. It is a patchouli fragrance with strong chocolate qualities, none of them edible. Cocoa sweetens patchouli better than vanilla, whose sweetness clashes with the mustiness of patchouli.
I don't smell any galbanum. Nor is the cardamom recognizable. The labdanum is mild of character, sweetening without changing the aroma. Yet, something gives Borneo a cool, green, character. Had it been only chocolate and patchouli, it would have been too flat. Still, it is a simple fragrance, done masterfully. Coromandel, another favorite of mine, is more sweet and ornate. Both are my go-to patchouli fragrances and I own both.
09th September, 2012 (last edited: 03rd January, 2013)
Dry cold earth. Dense, villainous, unbothered. Cacao like a drug, not like a chocolatey treat, dominates at first but ultimately loses out to the elements; something primal and austere. Galbanum (just as the dark arts described it) and cardamom hum and seethe respectively around a heart that shakes off hippie in favor of chic freak.
Initially I was less than impressed with this acquisition in spite of being a classic patch-head. It took spilling nearly 25 ml of this for me to give it proper attention. Dirty, real patchouli, the last black key on the left side of the piano, pitched-down vocals. Coarse, not minerallac in any clean sense but a bit like moss on cooled volcanic rock.
Attics, basements, black mold. The story behind this: the silk road, patchouli used to keep the insects off the fabric, the ladies loved the smell of their soft new silks. Probably only because it was exotic, maybe only because it contrasted so perfectly with the weft of silk itself.
Rough-hewn peace and the grand, unsentimental love of mother nature.
Oh, how I *love* this scent.
It reminds me of mixing Santal 33 from Le Labo, Amber Absolute along with Pure Malt, and maybe a little LIDGE on the side (minus the grandpa \ dentists office sharp vetiver note that LIDGE has).
So in short; it's a more masculine version of pure malt with incense and sandalwood.
Awesome sandalwood and cedar notes in the base.
Cocoa and Patchouli on the top and mid, very comforting -- they kind of gell with each other in a very symbiotic way.
The cocoa here is very reminiscent of LIDGE.
It's a very comforting scent that's for sure.
I would also advise Mr. Lutens to rename this scent to "pimp juice" -- because seriously, that's what it is.
One small prob; it doesn't last on me as well as other SL scents do...not sure why this is, maybe I got an old bottle or something.
15th May, 2012 (last edited: 26th May, 2012)
Thick, monolithic, bitter cocoa and patchouli dries down to unpleasant bitter residue that taints skin for hours. Chanel's Coromandel also by Sheldrake is along similar ideas but, to me, takes a more interesting journey through cocoa to dark leaves and rich jungle humus and exits politely.
Patchouli + Mocha. Not a huge patchouli fan but it works here.
28th February, 2012 (last edited: 22nd May, 2014)
Patchouli is one of my favorite notes, so this fragrance is one of my favorite Serge Lutens!
Starts a very organic patchouli (earthy, sweet, dark ) and later the cocoa makes patchouli more nicer. I love it!
The idea of a cocoa/patchouli accord appeals to me and thinking how Lutens are generally sweet, I wrongly presumed that Borneo 1834 would be so. It is not. I should have read the reviews first to adjust my expectations. The scent comes across as bitter and dry with camphorous undertones. The cocoa is there, as is the patchouli. Regrettably, I do not like Borneo 1834.
I spent some days trying to define clearly this scent 'cause it is somewhat complicated. From the outset I can say that I enjoyed the hell out and Serge Lutens and Sheldrake are geniuses. This frag has its main focus on patchouli and is subsidized by the roasted cocoa.
Early on, it opens with a smell of camphor dissolved in a cocoa and patchouli basis, a little bit different, like some kind of root, like a bitter licorice. After a few minutes, camphor decreases and open space to patchouli, that "tones up" and becomes more leafy, yet bitter, but this patchouli is a totally different from how it was used by White Patchouli - TF. In Borneo it is opaque, dense, smoky, as ike the cocoa note, but it seems to be formed by dry leaves, not fresh ones.
Indeed, the more time passes, the more opaque is the scent, it gives the impression that you're in the middle of a dark rainforest, but close to a cocoa farm (who has been to Ilheus, here in Brazil, should know what I'm talking ). The scent reminds a lot this environment. This is because the dry down enter the galbanum and laudanum notes, leaving the frag resined and incensed.
But though opaque, cocoa becomes more pronounced, like a 70% chocolate but with a layer of dust on top of it, or as if it was a little moldy. You can not exactly feel like eating, but getting lost in the midst of the bushes and rushes out to smell the cocoa beans that are drying up. It has a very good sillage and fix.
Straight forward patchouli-cacao. Rich yet not too sweet, masterfully crafted but not incredibly original. After the camphoraceous/spicy opening it settles haflway between A*Men and Parfumerie Generale's Cozè. A beatuiful composition that you'll surely dig if you're into bold head-shop patchouli. Me? A bit too overpowering for my likes. I stick with the PG.
23rd September, 2011 (last edited: 13th February, 2012)
Five minutes ago this would have been a definite thumbs down. So, I logged in to write my review. NOW, after waiting, it's starting to morph into something better. I gave it a "neutral" only because the beginning is sooo bad ( on me ) ...It starts out smelling like the bottom of Grandma's bag, then it morphs into something that smells like GRANDPA'S bag. Finally, after about 10 minutes it smells ok. Less like camphor and sweaty man berries, but more like incense and sour crotch. I'm guessing that my chemistry is playing a huge part in this. Oh well, better to have loved and lost....SL is still one of my fave houses and i will find the right one.
I wrote a review that I think got lost to the aether. No matter. The general idea is this...
1. Deep, dark cacao bar in the upper 80 percent range (that's a super dark chocolate bar to you non-chocolate lovers).
2. Subtle patchouli
3. Multiple ladies gave me unsolicited compliments on test day.
4. Very unisex
And I fifth point that I forgot to add is that I will be putting it on my to-buy list.
As others have said, patchouli, cocoa, and camphor stand out. The patchouli in Borneo is one of my favorite renditions of this note that I've yet encountered. It's dry, earthy, even a little dusty. There's no amber or vanilla to soften it or smooth it. The cocoa, likewise, is all grown up - no sweetness here. The camphor-like note seems to provide a little lift, keeping this from being too dark and heavy. I have come to think of this as a grown up and warmer weather alternative to, of all things, Angel for Men. The tarry heaviness and sweetness of A*men is just too much for warmer days, and, frankly, becoming more challenging to wear with every passing year. Borneo provides similar notes presented in a very different - and IMO more mature - way.
I say "DIRT" - and I love it.
Like L'Artisan's Poivre Piquant, a fun and creative take on perfumery - The Driest dark chocolate and rich earth (that others will smell as a camphorous Patchouli... but for me, it's pure rain forest soil, damp but sandy and aromatic - the smell of which hovers around every relic of indiginous amazonian heritage in my apartment.) Therein lies the magic: NO FRAGRANCE is swifter in lifting me to another place, albeit highly personal, as this Serge Lutens. His Marrakesh is my Rio Juruá, and the stars above this imagined woven hammock are all the more numerous.
A distant and respectful admirer, though not a fan of Lutens- Sheldrake work as I am, I immediately fell in love with this dark, somber, powdery patchouli.
I love the astringent camphor initial blast (I only wish it lasted much more!), the strong animalic pong that lasts just for a while in the surroundings after having sprayed the fragrance – curiosly, not so much on skin!- the earthy and dry patchouli heart that gently yields bittersweet notes of coffee and liquorice and the vanishing, delocalized yet recurring bitter cocoa powder scent that seems to be falling on it from everywhere. In the quite long drydown, an almost fizzy, medicinal roundness keeps the fragrance very close on skin.
Borneo reminds me of a typical chocolate from a town called Modica, in Sicily, which, due to the peculiar preparation, comes in hard, brittle, granulous, opaque dark brown bars and has a powdery and dry taste, as it lacks of every sort of fats.
An earthy patchouli complemented with a bitter cocoa of biscuity dryness, and a minty-camphor aura that saves the blend from turning staid. Borneo 1834 is all about the materials, which don't interact to tell a story, but are sufficiently handsome as to be dramatic. It has an absorptive, matte, duskiness about it that draws you into its shadow. It's a refined, subdued triumph and the only patchouli I will now wear.