I've been trying perfumes for a while without feeling that fervor or spark return that I experienced the first time I tried scents like Ambre Sultan, some Kilian stuff, JAR's Bolt of Lightning, many Comme des Garcons fragrances, the first few Montales, and one's first foray into L'Artisan, etc. It's like opening the door to a strange abandoned house and you don't know what you'll find. The feeling of newness, like how you feel about the city you move to before it becomes part of your ho hum daily routine. There is that sense of adventure and the little butterfly feeling you get when you bring your nose to something for the first time and it just blows you away. I love it and have missed it.
I've been trying a lot of the offerings from newer niche houses and haven't felt that "wow" factor often, and because of so much "newness" I abandoned my exploration of Serge Lutens prematurely. Whether you like them or loathe them, they certainly rarely make you go "boring." There just a very few that have done this to me in the past year, two notable ones being Rien and Vierges et Toreros by Etat Libre d'Orange and Carnal Flower by Malle. Taking a cue from the fact that I realize I might be one of those guys who likes white florals, I ordered Tubereuse Criminelle after having read about it since I started this journey in scents a few years ago.
It is fantastic. It is gripping, and it is strange... well, at the beginning. The blogs, the reviewers here: believe them when they tell you that it's a fragrance that elicits a response and seems to cast a spell. It's almost eerie.
Everyone loves taking his or her turn deciding what the strange opening notes of Tubereuse Criminelle remind them of. To me, it is most akin to the dull powdery blue mint taste in some gums. It's not spearmint or peppermint or winter green, but something else. What it does is give a sense of odd realism to the experience. In my opinion, it seems like the opening oddness everyone talks about is a necessary evil(?) in order to create that exact moment in its development when it fades just enough to create the incredibly real sensation of smelling a fresh flower. It's strangely fresh but also a bit cold. To me, this moment reminds me more of the smell of a fresh lily, just temporarily, until the opening subsides completely and the most beautiful, rich tuberose smell emerges.
The thing that is so fascinating about Tubereuse Criminelle is that it seems that everyone ascribes it a sort of mystery, something "bad," or "dark" and it's definitely there and it's not just because the word "criminelle" is part of its name. It's like a black lace bra peeking out from behind the prim and proper librarian's neatly pressed blouse, or a tattoo lurking behind clothing that no one wants you to know about. It's a juxtaposition, something jarring, something strange, something completely unexpected matched with something so natural, unadulterated, and beautiful.
It's been a while since a fragrance really grabbed me and I just had to share the experience here. I'd also love to know if anything has grabbed anyone else in this way lately or what you think about this one. By the way, I'm expecting JAR's Jardenia tomorrow... Can't wait to see what that does for me!
I've been trying a lot of the offerings from newer niche houses and haven't felt that "wow" factor often, and because of so much "newness" I abandoned my exploration of Serge Lutens prematurely. Whether you like them or loathe them, they certainly rarely make you go "boring." There just a very few that have done this to me in the past year, two notable ones being Rien and Vierges et Toreros by Etat Libre d'Orange and Carnal Flower by Malle. Taking a cue from the fact that I realize I might be one of those guys who likes white florals, I ordered Tubereuse Criminelle after having read about it since I started this journey in scents a few years ago.
It is fantastic. It is gripping, and it is strange... well, at the beginning. The blogs, the reviewers here: believe them when they tell you that it's a fragrance that elicits a response and seems to cast a spell. It's almost eerie.
Everyone loves taking his or her turn deciding what the strange opening notes of Tubereuse Criminelle remind them of. To me, it is most akin to the dull powdery blue mint taste in some gums. It's not spearmint or peppermint or winter green, but something else. What it does is give a sense of odd realism to the experience. In my opinion, it seems like the opening oddness everyone talks about is a necessary evil(?) in order to create that exact moment in its development when it fades just enough to create the incredibly real sensation of smelling a fresh flower. It's strangely fresh but also a bit cold. To me, this moment reminds me more of the smell of a fresh lily, just temporarily, until the opening subsides completely and the most beautiful, rich tuberose smell emerges.
The thing that is so fascinating about Tubereuse Criminelle is that it seems that everyone ascribes it a sort of mystery, something "bad," or "dark" and it's definitely there and it's not just because the word "criminelle" is part of its name. It's like a black lace bra peeking out from behind the prim and proper librarian's neatly pressed blouse, or a tattoo lurking behind clothing that no one wants you to know about. It's a juxtaposition, something jarring, something strange, something completely unexpected matched with something so natural, unadulterated, and beautiful.
It's been a while since a fragrance really grabbed me and I just had to share the experience here. I'd also love to know if anything has grabbed anyone else in this way lately or what you think about this one. By the way, I'm expecting JAR's Jardenia tomorrow... Can't wait to see what that does for me!








