Patchouliful Laboratorio Olfattivo 2014

Nothing is as constant as change; after the ebb comes the flow. And so on and so forth...
I recently noticed that my fragrance selection behavior seems to be woven into a certain cyclical pattern. There are consecutive phases in which a particular fragrance component comes into focus and sends me tumbling from one thought to another. The vanilla autumn of 2019, accompanied by extravagant gourmand excesses (a bit of chocolate here, a scoop of caramel there), was followed by a winter steeped in incense. Sacred, unsacred, ******doesn't matter. With wood, cinnamon, jasmine, iris, wearable, unwearable, pleasing, experimental, and occasionally tending towards unbearable. And then suddenly, it was over with Eau de Altar Boy. The buffet was cleared, my olfactory stomach well filled. No, that would be an understatement. I had literally gorged myself on incense, excuse me, had gotten sick of it.
And as luck would have it, a new victim hopped right in front of me, which I had to dissect in all its variations from now on. Patchouli. It's kind of funny that I had ignored the topic for so long. After all, I was first at home in the punk scene in my youth before I was drawn through goth to black metal. So I spent what felt like weeks in various private basement clubs, where the smells of various smoking substances mixed with spilled red wine, stale beer, and the patchouli-soaked clothes of the girls present. I associate wonderful memories with that time, but the patchouli oil that was common back then from the (only) "scene shop" in wild Lüneburg... no, let's skip that! Incredibly musty and stale. Absolutely morbid stuff.
Peer group or not, I preferred to bathe in the newly released Gucci Rush (which seemed incredibly mysterious, dark, and wicked to me back then - today I perceive it as cheerful, floral, and bell-like) and felt olfactorily superior to the stink owls.
It’s probably this late adolescent basement trauma that made me ignore the topic of patchouli. Until, yes, until I found a blind test video on a Parfumo-affiliated YouTube channel, in which a fragrance that proudly bears the big P in its name was rated quite well.
I immediately ordered the fragrance blindly (and thoughtlessly), and as luck is known to favor the foolish, this result of an impulsive decision turned out to be an absolute hit. Patchouli by Micallef. I was hooked. Incense? Who is incense? I need to know what else patchouli can do. All variations, the full keyboard. If I were a famous painter, people would probably claim retrospectively that this "awakening moment" marked the beginning of my "earthy period."
And so my patchouli journey eventually led me to my esteemed Italian friends from Avigliana. I already have two fragrances in my collection, Alambar and Vanhera, that are among my absolute favorites, while I didn't warm up to Alkemi and Nerosa at all. There was certainly a risk that Patchouliful could join the latter, so I couldn't deny that. Still, the next blind purchase followed immediately; luck seems to make one reckless.
But obviously, the very foolish have particularly good luck, because I also like Patchouliful.
It doesn’t elicit screams of joy from me, but it is spicy-warm and grounding, giving me a sense of closeness and security.
Moreover, Patchouliful feels very natural and cuddly; there are no ugly synthetic edges that could mar my fragrance experience.
The top note starts with a zesty bergamot, already accompanied by pleasant spicy notes. The cinnamon stands out the most here, while the clove remains somewhat in the background. The cinnamon stays present the whole time and only fades together with the base. Nothing earthy-musty here, rather the opposite. After about 30 minutes, the iris takes the stage and brightens the fragrance a bit with its light powderiness. Over time, Patchouliful becomes sweeter, but never veers into stickiness and retains its slightly bitter undertone. Musk, labdanum, and cedarwood form the base and are finely balanced. This cedar is round and soft and has nothing of freshly sharpened pencil. The resin note also does not push itself to the forefront but is accompanied by gentle musk, which gives the whole a mini dose of animalic for beginners. I think a little portion of vanilla would have suited the composition well, but you can't have everything.
So here, cinnamon and patchouli dominate a balanced woody base, creating a truly wearable and quite suitable unisex fragrance that will probably come into its own even better in winter than at our current temperatures around 15 degrees.
I perceive the sillage very positively; the fragrance radiates well and remains truly constant for a long time. Even after five hours, distinct scent sequences come back to my nose. Patchouliful has power and performs with a lot of energy to my great delight. Because let's be honest - what is more pointless than a perfume that I can no longer smell on myself after 30 minutes? I have several of those in my collection and feel downright cheated of my right to scent by them. It doesn't help me if I scent half the teacher's lounge and don't even notice it myself. After all, I paid for the expensive stuff, not my colleagues.