Bois Noir Robert Piguet 2012

I dare to doubt that Mr. Guichard has so undertaken in the creation of Bois Noir, but he has succeeded, probably completely unintentionally, the most authentic implementation of a Palo Santo note for my nose in a perfume that I have ever come across. I was looking for a long time, but have so far always been disappointed when I have been tempted by the mention of Palo Santo in the fragrance pyramid or even in the name to test.

From Bois Noir, on the other hand, I did not expect such a thing at all. Sounded just quite nice. But I had rather expected something fir forest, coniferous. And then my heart has already risen with the first spray. Suddenly I'm on Avenida Corrientes in Buenos Aires, where every fifty meters a street vendor burns Palo Santo next to mate cups, leather belts, sunglasses and fake Nike socks to convince the walk-in customers of the quality of the incense on offer.
For me, the scent of gently smoking palo santo is inextricably linked to Buenos Aires, where I spent three formative and all-changing years, and where a not-so-small piece of my heart has probably stuck forever. Palo Santo is ubiquitous there, not just among hippies and New Age freaks, but among housewives and office hags, hipsters and craftsmen alike, because everyone knows that smoking Palo Santo cleanses a house of bad energies. For me, this scent is home, warm afternoon sun on the rooftops of skyscrapers, dearly loved homes of dearly loved people, and a hundred more fond memories called up by its resinous sweetness without detouring the intellect.

Exactly this rich bouquet of impressions, memories and emotions came wafting out of my bottling of Bois Noir completely unexpectedly. Eyes closed, enjoy, smile. For me, nothing here is noir, gloomy or joyless. On the contrary, I feel the fragrance as warm and comforting, which admittedly could have to do with said beautiful memories.

Now, the gentle reader is not so much interested in what emotions it evokes, but how it smells (especially if you've never smelled Palo Santo yourself).
So then: prelude is wood, freshly sawn, a bit dusty, a bit resinous, a bit sweetish. That what you can smell in places where a lot of work is done withwood. But not in the way of a concept scent like Memoirs of a Trespasser, which captures a very handily mundane smell in a perfume water and is perhaps not even meant to be worn so much as an experience. Bois Noir, on the other hand, is very clearly a perfume, with the purpose of smelling good. As distinct as the woody note is, it is also interwoven well with the other notes. From the fragrance pyramid, patchouli is recognizable to me (not a cellar-dwelling wet earth patchouli, but a spicy but hand-tame one), and the somewhat heavy, stuffy sweetness of labdanum. I can't detect cedar; there's absolutely nothing fresh about the scent (but it doesn't matter, that would be completely out of place here). It remains largely linear for me, but "settles" after a while on the skin - I don't know what else to call it - and seems denser and sweeter than at the beginning. Sandalwood doesn't play a prominent role either, in either its soapy or creamy facets.

All in all, Bois Noir seems dense, rounded, and finished to me. There are no cheeky notes, no outliers, nothing that somehow doesn't fit. It reminds me distantly of Akkad, but is lighter and more ethereal in its effect, not as bulky. It's a definite sweet scent, but the kind of sweetness that men who worry about masculinity stuff can wear without hesitation.
The sillage is moderate. You can smell it, but it doesn't fill the whole room. With me, he holds out just under 8 hours, at the end rather skinny.
For me, he could like to be a gaaanz klein bisschen stronger, but in view of the fact that my search for a perfume with Palo Santo note has found a happy ending, this is completely beside the point. Will just spray a little more.
I thank Clausd for the bottling, buy a bottle as soon as the budget allows it again and recommend anyone and everyone who has a soft spot for woody fragrances to test this one by all means.