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Old Apothecary
Here is one that I don't see mentioned often, and yet I feel it is the best Amouage creation to date. I also find it curious that they decided to discontinue so many more "palatable" perfumes, yet this one is still around. Because I feel it is one of the most difficult to grasp from the house of Amouage, complex, unique, and odd.
Now, as a caveat, the perfume smells like it underwent a significant reformulation around 2013-2014 because I have samples of the 2015, 2016, and 2021 versions, and to me, these all smell the same. A strong Kiwi accord that I don't like (to say the least) and just an amped-up overall fruitiness that clings to the composition (so annoyingly) throughout, with more powderiness and sweetness.
My review is based on the original 2012 release, and I did compare and wore them multiple times to make sure my nose doesn't play tricks on me. The earliest issue of Interlude Woman has none of the Kiwi accord, and there is no fruitiness I perceive. It is more woody and mossy, less sweet, darker, and the castoruem note comes through in the base. It is everything I wanted Interlude Woman to be.
The opening smells strongly of marigolds alongside a quick burst of ginger and faint citrus. It goes away in about two minutes and you're left with the marigolds that start to pair with a crescent note of immortelle. It is a peculiar-smelling combination, to say the least, and people familiar with these two "difficult" notes in perfumery will understand where I'm coming from. Imagine the bitter and green scent of marigolds paired with the dusty-sweet and liquorish aroma of the immortelle. Herbaceous, dusty, and dry, a peculiar combination of this caramel-like aroma from the everlasting flower and the sharp, piercing, and bitter green from the marigolds. Eventually, the immortelle takes over until it overshadows the marigold accord entirely. At this point, it combines with my favorite part of this perfume in what I would describe as the "heart of the fragrance." The "walnut" accord. I don't know if Karine intended it to be or if the combination of woody notes and other elements gave it birth, but the walnut accord is incredibly realistic (and good). It pairs brilliantly with the immortelle and complements the latter's olfactory facets. You get this dry nuttiness alongside a slightly sweet-boozy honeyed liqueur accord that bears this beautiful pollenesque dustiness. To this duo, there are woods, honey, incense, and faint resins that add their charm.
Till this point, Interlude behaves like a pure Oriental perfume experience. Bizzare and enticing yet unmistakably Oriental. Here, and going into the base, is where the major shift happens. From an Oriental, it changes to a Leathery-Chypre composition that strongly reminds me of Puredistance M in the final stages. That glorious bitter mossiness combined with a castoreum-driven leather accord that pushes on the edgy and sexual side, barely warmed up by glowing resins. This shift is abrupt and takes me by surprise with each wear as I almost feel I am caught off guard. The floral and herbaceous elements disappear. The sweetness is replaced by this inky-bitter and earthy moss accord, while the leather facet is amplified by the castoreum element. From here, it wears like a proper leather-chypre with smoky and ambery touches.
I am confused about why they decided the addition of fruits (mostly Kiwi) would make the composition work better. In my opinion, it makes it feel discordant and chaotic, but I can see how it might also make it more palatable for the feminine sex (toward which it was targeted in the first place). I like the reformulated Interlude just fine, yet if I was presented with the opportunity to own another vintage flacon, I might spring for it. It gathers so many accords that I love in perfumery, like the heavy use of immortelle, the brilliant walnut accord, provoking and oily leather, plenty of moss, and smoky resins. There is nothing feminine here. It is dark and brooding and makes me picture an ancient apothecary where one would find old ointments, bitter-dry herbs, medicine, resins, musty old wood, dusty and rugged leather garments, and moss creeping up the walls.
IG:@memory.of.scents
Now, as a caveat, the perfume smells like it underwent a significant reformulation around 2013-2014 because I have samples of the 2015, 2016, and 2021 versions, and to me, these all smell the same. A strong Kiwi accord that I don't like (to say the least) and just an amped-up overall fruitiness that clings to the composition (so annoyingly) throughout, with more powderiness and sweetness.
My review is based on the original 2012 release, and I did compare and wore them multiple times to make sure my nose doesn't play tricks on me. The earliest issue of Interlude Woman has none of the Kiwi accord, and there is no fruitiness I perceive. It is more woody and mossy, less sweet, darker, and the castoruem note comes through in the base. It is everything I wanted Interlude Woman to be.
The opening smells strongly of marigolds alongside a quick burst of ginger and faint citrus. It goes away in about two minutes and you're left with the marigolds that start to pair with a crescent note of immortelle. It is a peculiar-smelling combination, to say the least, and people familiar with these two "difficult" notes in perfumery will understand where I'm coming from. Imagine the bitter and green scent of marigolds paired with the dusty-sweet and liquorish aroma of the immortelle. Herbaceous, dusty, and dry, a peculiar combination of this caramel-like aroma from the everlasting flower and the sharp, piercing, and bitter green from the marigolds. Eventually, the immortelle takes over until it overshadows the marigold accord entirely. At this point, it combines with my favorite part of this perfume in what I would describe as the "heart of the fragrance." The "walnut" accord. I don't know if Karine intended it to be or if the combination of woody notes and other elements gave it birth, but the walnut accord is incredibly realistic (and good). It pairs brilliantly with the immortelle and complements the latter's olfactory facets. You get this dry nuttiness alongside a slightly sweet-boozy honeyed liqueur accord that bears this beautiful pollenesque dustiness. To this duo, there are woods, honey, incense, and faint resins that add their charm.
Till this point, Interlude behaves like a pure Oriental perfume experience. Bizzare and enticing yet unmistakably Oriental. Here, and going into the base, is where the major shift happens. From an Oriental, it changes to a Leathery-Chypre composition that strongly reminds me of Puredistance M in the final stages. That glorious bitter mossiness combined with a castoreum-driven leather accord that pushes on the edgy and sexual side, barely warmed up by glowing resins. This shift is abrupt and takes me by surprise with each wear as I almost feel I am caught off guard. The floral and herbaceous elements disappear. The sweetness is replaced by this inky-bitter and earthy moss accord, while the leather facet is amplified by the castoreum element. From here, it wears like a proper leather-chypre with smoky and ambery touches.
I am confused about why they decided the addition of fruits (mostly Kiwi) would make the composition work better. In my opinion, it makes it feel discordant and chaotic, but I can see how it might also make it more palatable for the feminine sex (toward which it was targeted in the first place). I like the reformulated Interlude just fine, yet if I was presented with the opportunity to own another vintage flacon, I might spring for it. It gathers so many accords that I love in perfumery, like the heavy use of immortelle, the brilliant walnut accord, provoking and oily leather, plenty of moss, and smoky resins. There is nothing feminine here. It is dark and brooding and makes me picture an ancient apothecary where one would find old ointments, bitter-dry herbs, medicine, resins, musty old wood, dusty and rugged leather garments, and moss creeping up the walls.
IG:@memory.of.scents