Black leather
Civet
Fur
Musk
Narcissus
Oud
Tobacco
Chris185
72 Reviews
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Chris185
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Balancing Act
Untitled No. 8 elevates the concept of "animalistic" to a new level. Fragrances like Muscs Koublai Khan, Kouros, or Lui, often scorned for their animalic character, seem like tame house cats in comparison to this beast. I'm still not sure whether to regard this creation as a joke, an affront to good taste, or a truly wearable scent; it is a perfume oil with only moderate sillage, which makes the audacious combination of notes, at least for me, with a preference for animalic fragrances, bearable in small doses. Ironically, it is a scent from the USA, where people often prefer to smell fresh and inconsequential, that brazenly and overtly plays with the fecal.
Upon initial application, I smell pure civet. This excess of indole and skatole really hits below the belt: nothing here smells sexy, hot, or sweaty - it rather "fragrances" like a farm, freshly fertilized fields, or foul breath. Yes, it smells like feces. I don't want to be tasteless, but it's a fact. After this somewhat blunt shock effect, the civet retreats close to the skin, but the fecal aspect remains there throughout the entire duration, albeit subtly, providing an adequate intensity for that "certain" kick in the background. In the moderate projection, another animal theme is picked up, namely fur. The musk likely contributes to this fluffy-cuddly, quite appealing character. Additionally, there is a nicely balanced leather note, which has probably been enhanced with a good shot of castoreum. The scent slowly develops a truly erotic aura, provided, of course, that you enjoy it "dirty." But it remains precarious even in this later phase. Now another note comes into play, which also does not present itself in its best light but is brilliantly integrated into the dirty interplay: the narcissus. It adds an exotic, sultry sweetness, almost sweat-like and immensely corporeal. Intense like the aroma of an overripe fruit that is just still edible.
Unfortunately, Untitled No. 8 does not consistently manage to maintain the necessary balance between fascination and offense. For most, a sniff from the sample vial will suffice; for some, their stomachs may already turn at this point. When wearing it on the skin, one must endure the difficult initial phase and then maintain sufficient distance. Only then does the scent appear wonderfully risqué, provocative, and unconventional. Uncompromisingly animalic. With a little more finesse, a subtler handling of these delicate notes, perhaps this creation could have become a practical perfume. As it stands, it remains an experimental scent that hardcore lovers of animalic notes can occasionally enjoy.
Upon initial application, I smell pure civet. This excess of indole and skatole really hits below the belt: nothing here smells sexy, hot, or sweaty - it rather "fragrances" like a farm, freshly fertilized fields, or foul breath. Yes, it smells like feces. I don't want to be tasteless, but it's a fact. After this somewhat blunt shock effect, the civet retreats close to the skin, but the fecal aspect remains there throughout the entire duration, albeit subtly, providing an adequate intensity for that "certain" kick in the background. In the moderate projection, another animal theme is picked up, namely fur. The musk likely contributes to this fluffy-cuddly, quite appealing character. Additionally, there is a nicely balanced leather note, which has probably been enhanced with a good shot of castoreum. The scent slowly develops a truly erotic aura, provided, of course, that you enjoy it "dirty." But it remains precarious even in this later phase. Now another note comes into play, which also does not present itself in its best light but is brilliantly integrated into the dirty interplay: the narcissus. It adds an exotic, sultry sweetness, almost sweat-like and immensely corporeal. Intense like the aroma of an overripe fruit that is just still edible.
Unfortunately, Untitled No. 8 does not consistently manage to maintain the necessary balance between fascination and offense. For most, a sniff from the sample vial will suffice; for some, their stomachs may already turn at this point. When wearing it on the skin, one must endure the difficult initial phase and then maintain sufficient distance. Only then does the scent appear wonderfully risqué, provocative, and unconventional. Uncompromisingly animalic. With a little more finesse, a subtler handling of these delicate notes, perhaps this creation could have become a practical perfume. As it stands, it remains an experimental scent that hardcore lovers of animalic notes can occasionally enjoy.
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