DrB1414

While looking to expand my Patchouli wardrobe, I have stumbled upon Honoré Payan, a house with plenty of decades behind it (established in 1854 in Grasse) and an impressive track record. They are the ones behind the well-acclaimed Les Nereides Patchouli Antique (that suffered plenty of reformulations over the years), and I believe they also worked for Reminiscence. Therefore, if you are still longing for those perfumes in their original shapes, now you know where to find them.

But the one I'm talking about in this post is another patchouli perfume they released in 2025 called Patchouli XO. This was a second run after they did a lower-yield batch earlier this year. I trusted them to create an amazing patchouli perfume after I had sampled all of their patchouli offerings, and they didn't disappoint. My favorite from their regular line was the Patchouli Antique, now renamed Patchouli Original. I was planning to get that one at some point, and then they announced Patchouli XO, and since there was no way to sample beforehand, I decided to go for it blindly. I was right to do so, as I find it to have a strong resemblance to Patchouli Antique, but it tones down the more appealing aspects of the latter, while feeling more nature-like, intense, and higher quality. Just like the Antique, Patchouli XO is a patchouli fragrance that places a strong emphasis on woody notes, but the cocoa-like facets, balsamic notes, and sweetness are significantly toned down. It opens up spicy, slightly boozy, and woody, progressing into a dank, earthy, musty, and verdant direction. There are hints of camphor, but nothing that will clear your sinuses. It has a "dank cellar" vibe, but never goes full-on in that direction; rather, I find the generous addition of oakmoss to pull it more into a "forest-floor" type of feel. And it does indeed make me think of patchouli growing in a forest. There is also a hint of muskiness to the far dry-down, but overall, it feels woody, earthy, and green, with a good amount of mustiness.

I would say it's a middle ground patchouli - it has its challenging aspects, yet the subtle sweetness from the balms and the hints of cocoa next to the velvety moss and the musks help to smooth and round its profile so that it doesn't go as hardcore as the one from Santa Maria Novella or the Farmacia Annunziata. However, it will feel like a next level of "purity" for those coming from patchouli perfumes like Borneo 1834, Psychedelique, Patchouli Noir, or Patchouli Antique. If you like your Coromandels, Patchouli Imperials, Tempos, and other polite/safe patchoulis, you can safely skip this one.

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Cuir Pleine Fleur by James Heeley - gone but not forgotten. I was very impressed with this one, for a couple of reasons. First, for a leather fiend like myself to stumble upon a unique and unconventional leather scent (mind you, this one came out in 2006) is very rare. Second, I was not expecting to smell a Jean-Claude Ellena in a Heeley bottle.

Now, don't be fooled by the note breakdown with this one. People see violet leaf paired with leather, and shout "Fahrenheit," in the same way they see fruity-chypres featuring peach and shout "Mitsouko," and so on. This perfume smells like nothing I have tried. It takes bits from here and there, but as a whole, it is unique. The only thing that rings familiar to me is the aesthetic, its execution. In that regard, it strongly reminds me of Hermessence Cuir D'Ange, and overall, of Ellena's style. If someone told me this was created by Jean-Claude, I would believe it. And then, some critics claimed James Heeley to be the next Jean Claude Ellena, so there's that. I admit, I'm not familiar with the house, so I can't offer an opinion on that, but there's a strong resemblance to Ellena's style in this perfume.

As for the composition itself, this is steering more into Agrestic territory than Leather, although there is a clear presence of the latter. The leather accord behaves much as the one in Cuir D'Ange, while the rest of the perfume smells entirely rustic. It brings to mind perfumes such as Greco's Œillères, Providence Perfumes Moss Gown, and small bits of Prin's Haxan. I'd say more readily the first two. If you'd strip Œillères of its sweaty leather accord, or add a gentle leather touch to Moss Gown, you'd get a good impression of Cuir Pleine Fleur. However, there's a bit more to it, besides that - a very subtle honey note and a quite assertive cinnamon touch that sticks around for quite some time.
From the listed notes and accords, I get the violet leaf, cinnamon, hawthorne, leather, honey, and vetiver. Violet leaf and cinnamon open the way, a burst of ozonic green accompanied by the fiery-spicy kick from the cinnamon. Then, the bucolic landscape begins to shape the fragrance on a suede leather canvas. The hawthorne is prominent with its bitter-green and powdery touches, reminiscent of how it complements the leather accord in Cuir D'Ange. But then I get several "phantom accords" that, albeit not listed, are very tangible to me: hay and chamomile. It might be the way the ingredients and molecules interact, but what I smell is without a doubt a dry, grassy, and herbal heart where hay, chamomile, hawthorne, and the lingering violet leaf pave the way for the leather. The latter is a soft, suede-like take on the accord. It bears the minimum amount of smokiness and animalic twang. In the base, it goes into a creamy musk direction with hints of dry and aromatic vetiver. This is a subtle take on leather that works great during Spring and Summer, but can be worn all year round.

If Ruade is the rugged leather saddle you ride on and Œillères is the rustic waistcoat imbued with the sweat of a day's work in the fields, then Cuir Pleine Fleur is the elegant pair of leather gloves you match to your tweed suit while taking a road trip to the countryside for a breath of fresh air. It is Cuir D'Ange's rustic cousin.

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I am still debating between this and the Patchouli from Santa Maria Novella. I love the smell of Patchouly Indonesiano more, but the Santa Maria slightly takes the edge because it performs better on my skin. However, I think that Patchouly Inodnesiano is meant for colder weather. This stuff is no joke - the purest, darkest, earthiest, and most straightforward Patchouli perfume you'll ever find. I'm not sure on the formula, but I wouldn't be surprised if they used just patchouli oil at a very high concentration. The fragrance is so oily and sticky that it clogs the atomizer. When sprayed, it leaves an oily sheen, and it behaves much like an essential oil. I'd love it to push out just a tad more because I adore the smell, and I'd like to get more wafts through the day. It lasts for a long time, though, and it is lingering beautifully on the skin. But the smell, oh my, to me, it is Patchouli perfection. There are no fillers here; no spices, no woods, no resins, and no florals. This is like pressing your nose against the shrub and then pulling it barehanded from the ground and smelling the dusty earth on the leaves as well as the soil clinging to the roots. It feels like being buried alive beneath a patchouli bush.

It doesn't evolve much throughout the wear, but its profile is so complex that you'll always experience different facets and never get bored. It opens up like a shot of warm liquor made of earth. Boozy, spicy, warm, and with a dark cocoa-like undertone. This is the darkest, least sweet cocoa you can imagine. Then it emits bits of camphor, earthy facets, and progressively becomes dustier as it develops. When I say dusty, I mean earth dust. The scent of earth when it's hot outside and gets hit by the rain, but not as diffusive, rather thick that you could chew it. So perhaps, earth dust that has collected on the leaves of the shrub, and you take a bite without washing it beforehand (I do that with mint leaves). A scent that most likely won't find appeal in today's market, but if you like earthy perfumes, patchouli, and dark-themed fragrances, it should be on the list to try. It also reminds me of a dusty attic that hasn't been entered for decades. Impressive stuff from Farmacia SS. Annunziata. Unexpectedly bold and high quality.

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I don't wear perfume by season or occasion, but if I were to make a list of favorite fragrances to wear during hot Summer days, Le Parfum De Thérèse would rank as my number one choice.

If you are a fan of this house or of Edmond Roudnitska's work, you know the story behind Le Parfum de Thérèse (although some reviewers on YouTube still make dedicated overviews on the house and have no clue about the story behind it, won't point fingers).

Edmond created this perfume for his wife, Thérèse, to be hers and hers alone to wear. At that time, he felt this perfume was too futuristic for its period and that it wouldn't be well-received by the market. Honestly, even today, this perfume feels like a futuristic olfactory composition. I don't think Le Parfum De Thérèse can be bound to any era of perfumery, which makes it rather timeless.

If I were to go by the notes, I should not enjoy this. And yet I love it. I like to describe the way Roudnitska crafted this perfume as an Impressionistic painting. One that immediately comes to mind would be Monet's "Le Déjeuner sur l'herbe", and Monet's style in general. This perfume transcends any general knowledge of the fruity, floral, and chypre accords one might have. Yes, you get fruits - melon, plum, and tangerines, but devoid of the typical sweetness and tangible characteristics; they feel natural and rather watery, even zesty at times. The florals, from which I mostly pick up an indolic Jasmine, are ethereal and not heavy, as jasmine most often comes across. Here you'll find one of the most interesting jasmine accords, light yet indolic at the same time. He almost restrained himself on the floral aspects while being generous with the indoles. And the Chypre base is built as a "modern" chypre accord using no oakmoss but a rather copious amount of vetiver with hints of patchouli and cedar. The leather accord never shines on my skin, or perhaps it is too light for me to detect, given my high tolerance for rough and dense leathers.

Overall, Le Parfum De Thérèse is an almost watery, diaphanous perfume with plenty of the spark and fuziness characteristic of most chypres. Sometimes the watery fruity accords are most prominent over a woody base, others the jasmine pushes out more, and there are instances when it wears and feels like an emerald mossy perfume. It is a clever creation that only consolidates further Roudnitska's genius and the saying that goes: "materials are important, but the nose is the most important."

The reason why I love wearing this perfume in the heat of Summer is because it makes me think of a picnic on the grass - a basket with fresh fruits and the smell of flowers, grass, and the trees nearby, with a cool breeze blowing through their branches. Just like in Monet's "Le Déjeuner sur l'herbe." And of course, people invited know how to dress, no shorts and tees here.

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Here's another drop from 2025 that I reached for. The second one after Gardelia, created by Bruno Fazzolari, DEIXIS.

I rarely blindly purchase perfumes these days. I do it when sampling is not an option, and there has been enough to excite me in the perfumer's portfolio to motivate me. Not all of Bruno's scents appeal to me. Some I like very much and some I'm not as fond of, but the most distinctive trait of him as a perfumer is that he is always ready to create something out of the ordinary. He doesn't follow trends but lets his creative ethos drive him forward. And the second thing that pushed me to pursue was the moniker, one with which I have a hard time restraining myself: "AMBER."

DEIXIS has proven to be nothing like what I expected; after all, this is Bruno. I was slightly disappointed at first, but quickly reminded myself to approach the perfume with no expectations. So I did.
I fancied this to be a heavy Labdanum-based Amber scent in the more traditional style: dusty, dry, and leathery. It is nothing like that. Then, I stopped setting expectations, reset, and went back to where it all started - Bruno composed this perfume as an ointment for his soul while going through a difficult period in his life. Then, DEIXIS made sense.

On my skin, this is a Frankincense perfume driven by the Olibanum-Styrax combo, making it fall into the "Churchy" or "Liturgical" Incense genre of fragrances. However, here comes the Bruno twist: the counterbalance provided by the Vanilla and Sandalwood, both of which add a soothing and gourmand feel to prevent the perfume from becoming your stereotypical incense composition or feeling too cold/austere. The olibanum opens the fragrance with its terpenic, citrus-like, and slightly coniferous facets, and it is quickly followed by vanilla. The labdanum is there, but it is very gentle, too shy for my liking. The Styrax does the heavy lifting next to the olibanum, and for the most part, you get this churchy frankincense experience offset by the sweet and gourmand facets of the vanilla. Later in the dry-down, the sandalwood creeps in to add its spicy, milky, and creamy nuances to the build. The perfume ends as a soothing, slightly spicy, milky, and creamy sandalwood with hints of incense. It's a very potent perfume that easily fills the room and lasts the entire day, but it is not heavy. I did wear it in the peak of the Summer heat, and it never felt cloying; a great technical achievement, I should say, to keep the vanilla in check like that.

I now get this fragrance. It embodies what I think Bruno felt during his days of grief - it has a spiritual side invoked by the frankincense accord, a soothing and caressing aspect captured through the warmth and cozy embrace of the vanilla and the sandalwood, and overall evokes a sense of tranquility. It might be a tad too sweet at times for me, but that is only if I smell it close up. In the air, it strikes a harmonious balance. Overall, it is undoubtedly a Bruno Fazzolari creation - familiar but with a twist. And that's why I keep coming back for more.

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