Lui Mazzolari
3
Helpful Review
When the Man comes around
Anyone who has been around the block for long enough has heard this name at least once: LUI. It makes the best lists of many aficionados when it comes to musks, leathers, and more recently, patchouli. I think it's all of that, depending on how old your bottle is, because this beauty has changed over the years. Frankly, I have been on the fence with it for a long time, as the various samples I tried seemed to be getting increasingly sweeter and patchouli-dominant while departing from the musk-leather-heavy emphasis this fragrance had in the past. Finally, I realized the only way to mend that is to hunt for an older falcon, as it seems to be the solution more often than not.
Smelling it from this bottle, Lui is not about the patchouli, which plays a minor role, and barely any amber. This is, first and foremost, a civet bomb. The cat slaps you over the face as soon as you spray this. But it's not the way civet usually comes across, which is sharp. Here it has this creamy, almost buttery texture, which I only encountered with another fragrance, an Italian-made gourmand, Cadavre Exquis, but devoid of that one's savory connotations. A big dose of buttery and foul-smelling civet, followed by a strong woody facet that smells like a barn scorched by the summer's heat, allowing all its aromas to rise and permeate the air. And finally, a dry and dusty leather, maybe hanging in the same barn next to a pair of leather boots to go with the picture. The patchouli and the amber accord barely breathe underneath the slab of meat and help to balance the fragrance, next to the woods, preventing it from going completely into a gore animalic show.
So, my recommendation, if you are looking for a potent musk perfume with a heavy-handed civet note, go and hunt for old bottles of LUI. I'd even say this is amazing if you want a barnyard and dry leather scent. If you want an amber-patchouli, there are a dozen better options, or you can try the modern versions of LUI, which tone down the animalics significantly. One thing is certain: LUI is pure testosterone juice and truly bad to the bone.
IG:@memory.of.scents
Smelling it from this bottle, Lui is not about the patchouli, which plays a minor role, and barely any amber. This is, first and foremost, a civet bomb. The cat slaps you over the face as soon as you spray this. But it's not the way civet usually comes across, which is sharp. Here it has this creamy, almost buttery texture, which I only encountered with another fragrance, an Italian-made gourmand, Cadavre Exquis, but devoid of that one's savory connotations. A big dose of buttery and foul-smelling civet, followed by a strong woody facet that smells like a barn scorched by the summer's heat, allowing all its aromas to rise and permeate the air. And finally, a dry and dusty leather, maybe hanging in the same barn next to a pair of leather boots to go with the picture. The patchouli and the amber accord barely breathe underneath the slab of meat and help to balance the fragrance, next to the woods, preventing it from going completely into a gore animalic show.
So, my recommendation, if you are looking for a potent musk perfume with a heavy-handed civet note, go and hunt for old bottles of LUI. I'd even say this is amazing if you want a barnyard and dry leather scent. If you want an amber-patchouli, there are a dozen better options, or you can try the modern versions of LUI, which tone down the animalics significantly. One thing is certain: LUI is pure testosterone juice and truly bad to the bone.
IG:@memory.of.scents