Unfortunately, I have "Fado Jasmim" not in this wonderful black Art Deco bottle (which seems to remind some of Darth Vader) but in a squat glass bottle with a silver cap. Miguel Matos was able to get hold of 24 of them in a glass factory in Marinha Grande. Since the 40s, the remnants of a former production were gathering dust in some corner of the company before the young perfumer finally filled them more than 70 years later.
When Matos rightly offered them with some pride on his website, I foolishly hesitated too long - and in no time they were gone.
Anyway, so be it. In the end, it's the content that counts, the rest is ornamental.
Well, and had I known how great the content was, I probably wouldn't have hesitated so long.
At the time, however, I wasn't that familiar with Matos' scent language. Today, I know it suits me. Watching a long interview with him recently, Dan Naughton aka Mr.Smelly conducted it, I could more than relate to his enthusiasm for the grand old chypres that played with floral, fruity, leathery and animalic facets - I absolutely share it. I, too, feel more at home in the fragrance world of the 70s and earlier decades than in the mainstream of the 90s - not to mention later decades.
"Fado Jasmim" speaks such a language: exuberant jasmine, in full, lush, almost overripe bloom, its indolic nuances taken up by a lascivious civet note, surrounded by all kinds of fruits and resting on a voluminous chypre base.
If you don't like jasmine, you should definitely avoid this fragrance.The combination of fruity and animalic is not an easy one either, but it touches the core of the Matos DNA: a floral/fruity/animalic base, preferably executed in chypre shades.
But if you like jasmine - and I do! - he, or she, should not miss this fragrance: such an intoxicating jasmine one gets namely rarely offered! At the same time, this intoxication has a certain restraint. He is not euphoric and jubilant, but rather surrounded by a melancholy aura, melancholic.
This is where fado comes into play, musically intoning the famous saudade, that specifically Portuguese form of gentle, all-pervading world-weariness. Fado Jasmim" is also full of saudade: the overripe blossoms and fruits, announcing transience, the dark, bitter chypre base - no cheerfulness, nowhere. But feeling, a lot of feeling.
Yes, I think "Fado Jasmim" is a very soulful fragrance. I mean to tell it that Miguel Matos put a lot of heart and soul into it. He didn't bang it out like he recently banged out four new fragrances to spray something colorful and joyful against the dreary Lisbon lockdown routine. No, there really is a lot of passion here, a passion that also fills the warm timbre of Amália Rodrigues, to whom Matos dedicated "Fado Jasmim."
The Afro-Brazilian and Arab influences on the Fado (represented by the fruit bouquet), as well as the preferred minor tone (chypre) and the velvety voice of Rodrigues (jasmine), all this has tried to let the Portuguese echo in his fragrance, and I think he has succeeded.
That "Fado Jasmim" polarizes nevertheless, is - as said - not surprising. Who struggles with indolic flowers, who already rushes to the window at a hint of animalism, who shies away from the complex moist-bitter chypre tint, this fragrance is certainly not for.
But who enjoys vintage fragrances, especially vintage chypres, especially those with proper body - I'm thinking, for example, "Femme" de Rochas or "Azurée" - could possibly enjoy "Fado Jasmim".
A certain tolerance to a quiet acetone-like note should bring along, however. It is probably due to the clash of powerful indoles and the sweetness of overripe fruit and gives a bit of the olfactory impression of fermenting fruit.
Sounds probably not particularly tempting, I find this note but quite apart.
As for the gender attribution: Miguel Matos no longer cares about it, since he discovered that a friend, who always smelled so wonderful, wore "The One" by Dolce & Gabbana, namely the version for women. Suddenly, he reports, he realized that he would find right here what the market was still denying him at the beginning of the new millennium (niche fragrances were still hard to come by in Portugal at the time, Matos says). His enjoyment of fragrances, already on the wane, was thus given new impetus, and fragrances he dearly loved, which he had previously thought were reserved for women, were suddenly within reach: "Poison", "Cabochard" - a new world opened up!
In this context, one can see "Fado Jasmim": stripped of all gender attribution. That one finds as a male wearer of this fragrance not everywhere undivided approval - granted. But you don't wear "Fado Jasmim" just like that, lost in thought in everyday life. No, you have to want this fragrance, you have to stand by it. But this is true for all Matos fragrances. For lovers of great, past fragrances they are a real treasure trove, but truly not suitable for the masses - fortunately! Fado Jasmim" is one of his more moderate fragrances, Matos really has more experimental fragrances in his portfolio. But it is not only more moderate, but in my opinion also more artfully blended and carefully balanced than many an olfactory ride across Lake Constance, which Matos thankfully allows himself - this makes his works both surprising and exciting. The brilliance and sophistication of the fragrances of his great comrade in arms in the matter of reviving lost innovative fragrance art in the style of the 70s and earlier, Antonio Gardoni, he does not quite reach.
That the ingredients are 'Non IFRA compliant' may be taken seriously, by the way. It is justified so: "This isn't a perfume. It's a piece of olfactory art. It uses safe ingredients only, but can cause reaction in allergy-prone skin. Test on a small patch of skin."
A piece of olfactory art?
Yes, I think so.
Top Notes 
Heart Notes 
Base Notes 
BoBoChamp
