I-II Montecristo Masque 2013

Being a newbie to the world of niche perfumery, I'm still fascinated by background stories and inspirations that lead to the creation of niche scents. This is the reason Masque Fragranze initially caught my eye. More specifically, it was their claim that the inspiration behind their fragrances is opera. As I happen to be an opera fan, too, I felt thrilled at the prospect of experiencing the fusion of the worlds of perfume and opera. I began my exploration of their line with Delphine Thierry's “Montecristo”.

I first tested “Montecristo” on a blotter. The moment I smelled it, I reflexively wrinkled my nose. ´This is way too much´, I thought to myself as the scent unveiled its incredibly strong and animalic character. However, rather than being deterred, it was this quality that fuelled my further interest in “Montecristo”. A few days later I dared to apply it on my wrist. The intense animalic opening was still present, but this time, perhaps thanks to its combination with my skin chemistry, it was more subdued and bearable. No more nose wrinkling! “Montecristo” finally managed to reveal its true nature. It's a (super)dry scent, starting off with what I believe must be ambrette and a couple of drops of alcohol (supposedly rum). Also, its animalic note, which is alleged to be hyrax, dominates the head and never entirely disappears from the fragrance. Later on, it blends with a tobacco note as well as with styrax, cedar and patchouli in the base.

The more I test “Montecristo”, the more I adore it. It's a superb example of a true niche perfume, capable of satisfying the tastes of even more demanding perfume connoisseurs. I find “Montecristo” intriguing and, owing to its operatic roots, complex and dramatic. Masque Fragranze is certainly a brand worth watching out for in the future. Bravissimo, Delphine Thierry!

Very animal scent. Dry, tough, virile. The Count of Monte Cristo. Yes, I sort of imagine escaping from prison. Island, silence, sadness, dungeon. It's necessary to get out. Even the smell needs to show, it's sad in the bottle. But not everyone smelled the Count, not everyone will smell this scent. It's not for every day. It's only wearable when the moment is right for it. But then it's unique

Montecristo opens with a fresh cinnamon and nutmeg spice-like accord before quickly moving to its middle. During the early heart, the composition warms considerably as the early spice joins dry tobacco leaf and a very powerful animalic accord exhibiting facets of fecal civet, powerful musk and thick castoreum. During the late dry-down the animalics, tobacco and warm spice slowly recede to reveal hints of patchouli and the vague natural woody accord underpinning everything. Projection is above average and longevity is average at 8-10 hours on skin.

Montecristo is a tough composition to pin down. On paper the spicy aspects are much more prominent, but as soon as the fragrance is sprayed on skin, the animalic facets come out in full force. The aforementioned potent animalic accord is not easily identifiable as it features facets of many different types of animalics encountered in other compositions yet not quite the same as any. You first notice the fecal aspects commonly encountered with civet, then heavy musk with a cumin-like spice undertone joins in (possibly derived from musk mallow), and finally a thick castoreum adds weight. Quite frankly, the composition represents one of the most aggressive animalic concoctions available, past or present. That said, once the more aggressive facets slowly recede and patchouli and wood from the base are unveiled to blend with their remnants the fragrance really turns into something special. Getting to that stage is going to be tough for many, however, and indeed it was for me. The bottom line is the 150 euros per 100ml bottle Montecristo is a fascinating highly innovative composition that is tough to wear but ultimately rewarding to the brave souls that make it past the potent animalic early heart phase, earning a "very good" 3.5 stars out of 5. Definitely recommended to hard-core animalic lovers.

Here you are, about to make another expensive purchase after looking up notes and reading reviews about a perfume. Luckily, you decide to get a sample first, as you have been burned before. Something that was described as "a masterpiece" smells to you like hairspray.

You apply the sample and wait. And wait. A faint (or sometimes pungent) smell wafts up at you and you think, "what the hell is that???" Could it be the masterpiece that received all the glowing reviews and had JUST the right notes? In horror, you look around to make sure nothing else is stinking up the space. Surely, you must have applied the wrong sample.

But no, the touted perfume you were about to embrace and fall in love with is something that turns your stomach. So no more relying on reviews for investigating a sense that is as ephemeral as the scented water you spray. How can we describe a smell when so many factors come into play?

Never again.

With all the hype and fear, I was expecting Montecristo to be an animalic beast. Hardly. More like a fougere kitten. It opens with a noticeable poopy note which doesn't last long. It quickly improves as the rum, cabreuva, ambrette and benzoin (I'm assuming) come into play. The result was an animalic, overripe fruit and clean sweat smell. Despite my description, it actually smelled quite good and if Montecristo had stopped there, I would have immediately ordered a bottle. Unfortunately, the evolution continued. The celery seed made itself clearly known. As the dry down continued, the end result was a weak 80's fougere type of smell. What I mean is, imagine wearing Zino and after many hours, its bite had been reduced to a skin scent. That's the smell Montecristo has, however, it wasn't a weak skin scent at that point. (Trying to describe the scent, not the intensity.) So, OK, I'm dragged through this transition and I end up smelling like a dozen other fragrances in my collection for the majority of Montecristo's life. No thanks.