01/15/2013

Apicius
224 Reviews

Apicius
Very helpful Review
8
For Gourmets, Not For Gourmands
Mythical creatures, fairies and sprites who dwell near mossy wells and brew mysterious beverages – these are the Celtic korrigans who lend their name to this perfume. Gilles Thevenin and his brand Lubin were never short of stories about their perfumes. If advertising can be art, the wonderful Lubin website is a good place to experience just this.
Whoever now supposes Korrigan to be a green meadow and forest perfume, or to even have something in common with Miraculix' strong magic potion is grossly wrong. To me, the idea of Korrigan seems to be based in the presumption that those who are accessible for the romance of Celtic mythology also like something else as well: a sensual bed sheet fragrance with a luscious gourmand note!
A “Caramel Wood Liqueur” determines the top note, deficiently described in the pyramid by Whiskey and Cognac. I hesitate to call it a toffee candy, this would be too simple by far. The butter fudge comes along with a heart-warming liquor providing some booziness. A homey spiciness may be ascribed to the saffron. Simultaneously, creamy and milky musk notes form a background which is distinctively neat and tidy. I would like to regard this as a kind of Italian ice cream parlour accord: there are these ambrosial aromas that evaporate from ice sorts like Malaga, Pistache, Hazelnut or Torrone - and they are linked to that specific impression of coolness and cleanliness that the production of ice cream may require. Isn't this a childhood memory for all of us?
After a while, the gourmandy notes leave, and the fragrance continues less loud. A soft and creamy accord remains with us. It is a skin accord, and this implies its double meaning: it now stays closer to the skin, and it also smells like skin. You have to go through the whole presentation on the Lubin website to get to know what they have been up to: a representation of intimacy, sensuality and private moments.
Again, also this accord could only insufficiently be described as creamy musk – it is by far more. But I cannot smell any leather, vetiver cedar or oud as such. If at all, a minimal touch of dark resins add a more bitter aspect.
Personally, I am not fond of gourmand fragrances, but Korrigan elates me in every respect. The reasons are almost too many to be listed here.
At first, Gilles Thevenin is working together with excellent perfumers, and he seems to grant them all the time that is needed to create a really excellent perfume. I suppose one can smell that, namely in Korrigan's homogeneity. The notes never give you the impression of being put side by side, and it is not easy to discriminate them. Instead, they were transferred into something unique of outstanding beauty and elegance.
Then I notice a specific basic structure in Korrigan which I usually find problematic in other perfumes. I mean that spectacular top note being followed by something much more discreet. Usually, I cannot approve to such a perfume – most fragrances of that kind go for the “Wow” effect – they aim at quick buyers who have to be impressed in an instant no matter how disappointed they'd be later.
This is completely different with Korrigan. If this is a fragrance that according to Lubin should be kept for intimate moments, then it must keep its especialness. Then the experience called Korrigan must not be reproducible easily like the taste of any butter toffee. Actually, you can have Korrigan only once per day – or night. When the top note fades away, only the memory will stay. Re-applying too shortly after the first application will not or not completely bring back the spectacular top note. Instead, the base notes will be emphasized. Korrigan is for perfume gourmets, not for gourmands.
At last, both parts of Korrigan fit together extremely well – and this should not be taken for granted considered the complete different characters of those two sides. Most goumand fragrances are quite unerotic to me, whereas sensual musks usually are not mouth-watering. Korrigan is both. I like it better than Lubin's Idole which can count as its forerunner. Also there you find a spectacular, gloriously boozy head note, and then everything calms down and becomes common. There, I am missing the cleat that holds together Korrigan so well and integrates the drydown into an overall concept.
A feast for the eyes as well – one has to praise Lubin for the flacon design: a sculptural form with organic curves that is good to hold in one's hands. The cap provides a dynamic touch but also the archaic sternness and the ethnic touch that comes down from Idole.
The best argument however is the sheer beauty of Korrigan. As a bed sheet fragrance, Korrigan expresses tenderness and intimacy like no other – not so much wild sex. As a gourmand fragrance, Korrigan smells much more delicious as any respective food. A praliné or candy that tastes as good as the smell of Korrigan – sorry, I don't know any!
Whoever now supposes Korrigan to be a green meadow and forest perfume, or to even have something in common with Miraculix' strong magic potion is grossly wrong. To me, the idea of Korrigan seems to be based in the presumption that those who are accessible for the romance of Celtic mythology also like something else as well: a sensual bed sheet fragrance with a luscious gourmand note!
A “Caramel Wood Liqueur” determines the top note, deficiently described in the pyramid by Whiskey and Cognac. I hesitate to call it a toffee candy, this would be too simple by far. The butter fudge comes along with a heart-warming liquor providing some booziness. A homey spiciness may be ascribed to the saffron. Simultaneously, creamy and milky musk notes form a background which is distinctively neat and tidy. I would like to regard this as a kind of Italian ice cream parlour accord: there are these ambrosial aromas that evaporate from ice sorts like Malaga, Pistache, Hazelnut or Torrone - and they are linked to that specific impression of coolness and cleanliness that the production of ice cream may require. Isn't this a childhood memory for all of us?
After a while, the gourmandy notes leave, and the fragrance continues less loud. A soft and creamy accord remains with us. It is a skin accord, and this implies its double meaning: it now stays closer to the skin, and it also smells like skin. You have to go through the whole presentation on the Lubin website to get to know what they have been up to: a representation of intimacy, sensuality and private moments.
Again, also this accord could only insufficiently be described as creamy musk – it is by far more. But I cannot smell any leather, vetiver cedar or oud as such. If at all, a minimal touch of dark resins add a more bitter aspect.
Personally, I am not fond of gourmand fragrances, but Korrigan elates me in every respect. The reasons are almost too many to be listed here.
At first, Gilles Thevenin is working together with excellent perfumers, and he seems to grant them all the time that is needed to create a really excellent perfume. I suppose one can smell that, namely in Korrigan's homogeneity. The notes never give you the impression of being put side by side, and it is not easy to discriminate them. Instead, they were transferred into something unique of outstanding beauty and elegance.
Then I notice a specific basic structure in Korrigan which I usually find problematic in other perfumes. I mean that spectacular top note being followed by something much more discreet. Usually, I cannot approve to such a perfume – most fragrances of that kind go for the “Wow” effect – they aim at quick buyers who have to be impressed in an instant no matter how disappointed they'd be later.
This is completely different with Korrigan. If this is a fragrance that according to Lubin should be kept for intimate moments, then it must keep its especialness. Then the experience called Korrigan must not be reproducible easily like the taste of any butter toffee. Actually, you can have Korrigan only once per day – or night. When the top note fades away, only the memory will stay. Re-applying too shortly after the first application will not or not completely bring back the spectacular top note. Instead, the base notes will be emphasized. Korrigan is for perfume gourmets, not for gourmands.
At last, both parts of Korrigan fit together extremely well – and this should not be taken for granted considered the complete different characters of those two sides. Most goumand fragrances are quite unerotic to me, whereas sensual musks usually are not mouth-watering. Korrigan is both. I like it better than Lubin's Idole which can count as its forerunner. Also there you find a spectacular, gloriously boozy head note, and then everything calms down and becomes common. There, I am missing the cleat that holds together Korrigan so well and integrates the drydown into an overall concept.
A feast for the eyes as well – one has to praise Lubin for the flacon design: a sculptural form with organic curves that is good to hold in one's hands. The cap provides a dynamic touch but also the archaic sternness and the ethnic touch that comes down from Idole.
The best argument however is the sheer beauty of Korrigan. As a bed sheet fragrance, Korrigan expresses tenderness and intimacy like no other – not so much wild sex. As a gourmand fragrance, Korrigan smells much more delicious as any respective food. A praliné or candy that tastes as good as the smell of Korrigan – sorry, I don't know any!