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Muscs Koublaï Khän is more saucy innuendo than pornographic statement. Post-coitally supine in temperament, it is the fragrant warmth of a bedded body rising in the air. Its Rorschach-like knack for ferreting out guilt and filth is readily seen in those intent on fingering it as a trespass against human decency, when all it wants to do is to lick its groin and drift into contented slumber. MKK is a scent which all-too-quickly tickles the imaginations of salacious perfumistas and it's a scent with more associations loaded onto its back – or stuffed down its boxers – than most. Putting fantasies to one side, I'd describe it as warm (say, 37°C), unusually see-through for a Lutens, and located somewhere between the smell of raw honey and matted fur. It is a concoction of the sweet (labdanum, ambergris), the greasy (beeswax, costus), and the ripe (castoreum, cumin), and is probably the most feral, as well as the most suave, musk out there. The pong that launched a thousand frowns, Muscs Koublaï Khän was my very first bell jar.
25th January, 2011 (Last Edited: 05th February, 2011)