Les Nombres d'Or - Oudh Osmanthus

Oud

Maison Mona di Orio 2011

Oud scents are very popular in the fragrance industry these days. Just about everyone is releasing their take on this resinous note. After sampling many of them, I've concluded that most are poor synthetic reproductions and more importantly, uninteresting. The high cost of quality oud usually has perfumers turning to the less expensive process of synthesis. By using rich essential oils from Laotian oud, Mona di Orio tries her hand at creating a masterpiece based on a single note.

Les Nombres d'Or Oud opens with a burst of refreshing citrus. The blending of sweet green mandarin, woody petitgrain, and elemi, with its citrus-like scent and spicy nature, gives an unexpected pungency to the opening. The Laotian oud is present from the beginning, but like a true gentleman, it is quiet and reserved. The citrus opening alludes to the likelihood that this oud fragrance will be something fresh and completely different. Les Nombres d'Or Oud is different, but not as anticipated. Your senses are redirected from a citrus accord to the main star in this fragrance, oud. The oud takes on a smoky attitude, like a warm smoldering bonfire. A very subtle patchouli intervenes, adding an earthiness to this ever-evolving oud. As the heart notes progress, a dry smoky oud becomes more and more obvious and it get increasingly complex with masculine spicy undertone. The heart notes develop further with the addition of an interesting floral companion. Chinese osmanthus brings a beautiful fragrant fullness and a gourmand element to the heart. I was happy to see that Mona di Orio avoided the use of some more typical florals, which adds to the uniqueness of Les Nombres d'Or Oud. The fragrance moves towards the development of a woody and amber base. You will not find the medicinal overtones more commonly associated with some synthetic oud fragrances. The base in Les Nombres d'Or Oud is focused on an interesting combination of earthy, dry, woody and sweet. Nagarmotha has some these properties naturally with the added benefit of being a little spicy. Atlas cedar again supports the woody note but adds a sticky sweet, camphoric leatheriness to the mix. The ambergris structurally supports the already present earthy and sweet qualities of Les Nombres d'Or Oud. All of these base elements harmonize and make Les Nombres d'Or Oud quite masculine in its approach.

Oud can sometimes be reminiscent of the scent of a bustling barnyard. This is a pretty common reaction to some less expensive oud based fragrances. I have experience this reaction myself and found it disconcerting. You will not find references to barnyard animals present in Les Nombres d'Or Oud. Mona di Orio creates a sophisticated oud fragrance with slightly linear elements. The changes are very subtle and few, giving the wearer the opportunity to get to know Les Nombres d'Or Oud.

Longevity is great with Les Nombres d'Or Oud and its scent can even be detected 24 hours later. The blending of sharp citruses, woody hints and a dollop of sweet spiciness, give Les Nombres d'Or Oud plenty of attitude but even more important, sophistication. Les Nombres d'Or Oud is oud done Mona di Orio style.

Probably one of the softest, friendliest oudh-fragrances I ever tried. It contains oudh of very high quality, breathtakingly removed from the conventional. The top notes are of raw green, but quickly fade away as the scent plunges into the depth of oudh. The unique presence of the osmanthus flower smoothes things down before patchouli, ambregris and cedarwood join in. A very sensuous and beguiling scent, not too pungent or woody-herbaceous. Certainly a unique oudh fragrance, its beauty and harmony set "Oudh Osmanthus" firmly apart from other competitors. If I had to pick an oudh-scent for myself, this would be the one. (But then again, I'm not really into oudh).

This is an unusual duo, the exotic osmanthus flower replaces the rose in a fragrance that’s strong, powerful but delicate and tender in the same time. The strong and alembicated scent of Laotian oud is paired with the delicacy of sweet, apricot smelling, osmanthus flower in a way in which both of them reveal their best parts and , surprisingly , the Beast is not killing the Beauty but is putting the Beauty in the spotlight and lived happily ever after. The background of this scented story is made of patchouli, musk and ambergris and overall I perceive Mona di Orio’s Oud as a ambery woody scent rather than an typical oud perfume

Oudh Osmanthus is both rich and dry, two qualities that are rarely found together these days. After years of puzzling over what makes this perfume tick, I think the secret to its three-dimensional richness lies in its triadic composition of a) the smoky, dried-up husk of a vanilla pod swiped from Mona di Orio Vanille, which contributes a dark, almost liquor-ish background that one might call sweet until you get close enough to see what it is, b), a midsection (borrowed from the brand’s own Musc) of blurred, indistinct floral notes desiccating to a fine white talc, which gives the scent its tinder-box dryness and a slightly soapy, dandified air, and c) a lascivious civet note that twists the florals into a grimy, almost fecal leather note à la Jicky.

Here’s the clever bit – though there is likely some quantity of real osmanthus and oud oil in the composition, their shape is carved out not by the raw materials themselves but by little olfactory nudges laid down by the perfumer herself, like a trail of breadcrumbs in the forest. Hence, the faintly cheesy fruitiness of osmanthus is suggested obliquely by an odd but genius herbal note that smells quite like fresh dill, while the cheesey ferment of oud is brought to life by the leathery civet.

In many ways, Oudh Osmanthus is the analog to my other favorite oud-themed fragrance, Nawab of Oudh (Ormonde Jayne). Both are Western abstractions of an Eastern raw material, rendered in a haute luxe style that elevates them far beyond their source material. But they arrive there from two utterly different directions – Nawab of Oudh via the light cast by crisp linen tablecloths, the brass moldings of a posh London hotel, and freshly-peeled citrus fruits, Oudh Osmanthus via the chartreuse gloom of a velvet-covered room.

Both are eye-wateringly expensive. Adding insult to injury, Oudh Osmanthus was reformulated when the bottles were changed from the wine screw bottles to the golden disc bottle. It still smells great, of course, but its smoky dryness has been toned down and made less confrontational, which has in turn subtracted much from its previously three-dimensional quality. However, if I were forced to choose just two Western oud-themed fragrances to take with me into the apocalypse, it would be Nawab of Oudh and Oudh Osmanthus, and that, for a perennial flip-flopper like me, is said with not even a hint of equivocation.

Yes, here comes a warning to all those who thoughtlessly want to bring this liquid close to them. I'm just not sure how loud my danger signal will sound. It's been several days since I tested Oud, but I still feel a certain displeasure when I recall the encounter with the scent.

Oudh Osmanthus came as a sample gift and sat around for a few days because even the small TZ - without spraying - had a bad breath. Eventually, my curiosity got the better of me, and I released two sprays.

The scent is animalistic to the point of excess from the very beginning, like a streetlamp frequented heavily by dogs and cats. The sillage and longevity are overwhelming. Because I wanted to bravely endure the entire experiment, I didn't wash off the devilish substance right away. However, the disgusting smell remained constant and did not get any softer. At some point, the emanation of a hormone-soaked deer gland bothered me so much that I hid my wrists behind my back. When that didn't help at all, I capitulated and called for Mr. Soap to help. What can I say, "the thing" is a one-way ticket to ruin; once applied, there is no turning back, and all household cleaning agents fail. Oud is pure fetish from head to toe, pardon, to the base, without an antidote.

For me, Oudh Osmanthus is an absolute 0%. Most horrible ever!