07/24/2012
jtd
484 Reviews
jtd
Very helpful Review
9
childlike animalic
This perfume’s richness and sexiness comes from such a basic composition that its novelty is startling. How can it possibly have taken this long for somebody to put patchouli, amber and musk, components joined since the invention of perfumery, in just this combination? After wearing l’Ombre Fauve for five minutes I found myself in a perfume fugue state on the verge of Something Big. I came to the conclusion that this triad had a simple perfection to it. “Of course! It’s obvious.” Mind you I’m not a perfumer and hadn’t the least idea what I was blathering about, but it seemed important at the time. The l’Ombre Fauve trip reminded me of a friend who while on acid felt that he’d gone to the core of some deep truth, didn’t want to lose it and so wrote it down. He woke up the next morning with a note in his own handwriting saying: “Don’t forget to mow the lawn.” Wow, words to contemplate. Had I been that deep?
The patchouli, amber and musk, along with incense and spices, fit together so perfectly and with such a convincing logic that you can virtually hear the ‘click’ as they lock into place. Where some fundamental accords thrive more on the contrast of the elements than cooperation (the chypre, the fougère) this accord is of a piece and forms a honeyed, waxy, sweet-tart skin raunchiness that is so palpable you feel that you can grab a hold of it.
I know people may find l’Ombre Fauve objectionable or rank in the way that some find Muscs Koublai Khan unpleasant. I love both, and l’Ombre Fauve is one of the most sensuous perfumes I’ve smelled in ages. I can’t stop wearing it.
If this helps to steer you toward or away from l’Ombre Fauve, I love the smell of the jasmine and orange blossom that’s in the air now where I live. It’s intoxicating. But I love the smell of my dogs’ fur and my boyfriends skin as much if not more.
The patchouli, amber and musk, along with incense and spices, fit together so perfectly and with such a convincing logic that you can virtually hear the ‘click’ as they lock into place. Where some fundamental accords thrive more on the contrast of the elements than cooperation (the chypre, the fougère) this accord is of a piece and forms a honeyed, waxy, sweet-tart skin raunchiness that is so palpable you feel that you can grab a hold of it.
I know people may find l’Ombre Fauve objectionable or rank in the way that some find Muscs Koublai Khan unpleasant. I love both, and l’Ombre Fauve is one of the most sensuous perfumes I’ve smelled in ages. I can’t stop wearing it.
If this helps to steer you toward or away from l’Ombre Fauve, I love the smell of the jasmine and orange blossom that’s in the air now where I live. It’s intoxicating. But I love the smell of my dogs’ fur and my boyfriends skin as much if not more.