Nuit de Bakélite Naomi Goodsir 2017

OMG. OH MY GOD. This is going to sound weird, considering how I’ll be discussing it, but I don’t think I have ever been so excited about a perfume in my life. This is the scent of rain lashing the pavement, turning the early evening streets into a labyrinth of slick, stagnant green. Dead leaves, twigs, and other nameless debris bob in the current and clog the gutters, their decomposition adding a cloying sweetness to the already oppressive air, the smell of things both growing and rotting. A late summer downpour that crawls under your skin, leaving you chilled even in the muggy heat. A storm drain gapes open, its maw lined with slime and moss. Down there, in the choking green depths, something shifts. A sound, not quite a giggle, not quite a rustle, echoes up from the blackness, and a voice, smooth as rain on stone, slithers softly. The sweet gurgle of a child, warped and twisted into something monstrous. "We all float down here," it echoes, a promise both terrifying and strangely alluring. "Wouldn't you like to float too?" Nuit de Bakelite is the fetid promise whispered by a monster in the dark, the smell of fear forever lodged in the back of your throat. Perfume enthusiasts x horror fans: if you know, you know. There are no words for how much I love this scent.

This fragrance is not about the tuberose, though that evil beauty is definitely there in the middle notes. nuit de Bakelite opens up with an explosion of intoxicating ylang-ylang, saffron (one of the most realistic smells of saffron, just like when you open a box of saffron) and galbanum. It sounds green, bitter, plastic, synthetic, but there is something fascinating about this perfume. It is very dense, bossy, loud. I have vintage Chanel Cristalle edp, they set quite similar mood for those who wear them. Its around 20 degrees in Denmark and this fragrance flies beautifully around, leaving a 10 meters tail, filling up any room you'd wear it too. So a big no for the office. It needs space and warm weather.
Its not similar to Fracas by pyramid, but it can definitely take its place in terms of being an iconic white-yellow flower, bitter galbanum sillage monster.

Nuit de Bakelite from Naomi Goodsir, created by Isabelle Doyen.

After unearthing my sample again, I could not help but wonder why I didn't own this perfume yet. It's not just that I love the fragrance, but I see it as a real olfactory piece of art that you hardly encounter in perfumery nowadays. NEZ magazine had it on their 111 pieces to smell before you die, and I couldn't agree more. I'd go as far as to say that even if you don't like the perfume but you have enough experience in this hobby and have smelled plenty, you should be able to appreciate the genius behind it and make it part of your collection if not to wear at least to marvel at it now and then and think: "Ah, this is what perfumery used to be." I can't think of too many fragrances like that. Off the top of my head, and without reiterating the old vintage perfumes everybody knows, I'd say the same about compositions like Iris Silver Mist or Une Fleur De Cassie.

What is this perfume all about? Can I classify it? It would be difficult as it shifts constantly throughout the wear and never stays in the same place. I'd say it is a green-floral composition if I was hard-pressed to describe it in a nutshell. And then, it feels like explaining or talking about things like religion or the universe and giving your best description attempt in two words. I also noticed that different people experience it differently, so this short elaboration is based on how I experienced it over the years on my skin. I don't like tuberose for the most part, and I'm not huge on green scents, yet I adore this perfume. The way these two motifs are portrayed helps create something larger than the sum of their parts. The result is a cryogenic tuberose stomped on the hard pavement, showered by rain, only to be later dried up with a worn leather cloth and laid on a bed of slowly burning resins to further decompose.

It unfolds on my skin in a clear four-stage progression that stays consistent most of the time.
The opening is venomous! Bitter, green, chalky, and somehow dusty. I can see how most listed notes and accords play together to create this breathtaking introduction. Angelica, wormwood, galbanum, tomato and violet leaf feel like a tour-de-force into "poisonous green" and bitter territory. It comes across as smelling the roots that spread too much, reaching the pavement where unaware passer-byes crushed them by accident. A combination of dried green vegetation and wet rocks that have frozen over the cold winter night.
The mid-phase can be divided into two smaller parts, but as a whole, it feels like a green-floral-chypre. Here, you get the tuberose that stays on the green aspects of the flower and never goes into the milky-creamy territory. I get a nice verdant mossiness and a bit of ylang, as well as the galbanum. The tuberose is not overly assertive, as it likes to be most of the time. The other elements keep it in check while the overall feel is walking into a green field at sunset during late summer nights when the air starts getting crisper.
The last stage is where you'll get the slight warmth and smokiness from the resins, which makes the composition feel somewhat more inviting, almost warm. And still, the overall feel of "dried-up lifeforms" never goes away. Like a mummy's crypt, or in this case, a tuberose mummy's crypt. The air is hot, yet the atmosphere feels dry and dead.

I can understand how this perfume might feel polarizing for many, and still, I urge any aficionado to at least sample it. It is a worthy addition to your olfactory cortex. It is a prime example of what perfumery should aspire to be and offer, and I'm delighted to have finally added a proper bottle to my collection.

IG:@memory.of.scents

Weird. Yesterday I scrubbed a perfume off my arms for being dusty-dry and harsh. Today, I am wearing this and I adore it for being dusty-dry and harsh. The difference? No idea, must be a "personality" thing.

So, Nuit de Bakélite. I would describe its scent as "dried, pulverized tree bark and roots with a luminous glow that starts galbanum-green and ends resin-leathery-brown". The tuberose is there in a big dose, but it is completely crushed by all this green-woody violence.

There is quite some artistic value to be recognized here. Unusually harsh opening, interesting non-Fracas use of tuberose, some weird plasticky accents. Artsy yeah, but hard to pull off in real life situations. Unless it matches your unsweet, bitter-to-the-core personality. And, in my case, I think it matches perfectly.

I had to wear this many more times than most of the other perfumes I review. I had to let it show itself to me, charm me if possible. Tuberose and I have a mixed history, but I was pleasantly surprised to see here that tuberose is part of the ensemble more than the leader of this band. Thank you for watching