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The Cask Of Amontillado
The Bl(C)ask of Amontillado.
I wonder what Fortunato did once out of his stupor?
"That damned Montresor, I Trusted him! Trusted him about the Amontillado." Trust...
He probably drank to his death. The death of Dionysos. His Laurel crown is no longer a symbol of triumph. The glass of wine spilled on the cellar floor and over his garments. The dank scent of the cellar, wood, wine, and bay laurel, and the soon-to-be decomposing corpse of poor Fortunato.
Blask, a perfume about Trust, the deepest bond between human beings, as stated by the brand, is an ingenious composition put together by perfumers Christophe Laudamiel and Christophe Hornetz.
It is such an intelligent perfume that constantly brings to mind Edgar Allan Poe's story. I can smell it in Blask.
And what does it smell like? The major notes for me are the Bay Laurel, the red wine, the woods, and the resins. The interplay is fascinating, and many imaginary accords emerge from it - flowers, walnuts, leather, incense, and a decomposing/rotten smell. And yet, it is such an addictive, or should I say, intoxicating perfume, that puts laurel and wine to exquisite use. I have developed an infatuation with bay leaf in perfumery, especially the way it blends into Oriental compositions, as it does here. As for the wine, while I enjoy boozy facets in fragrances, I never found a wine accord to suit my tastes until now. Most of them are overly tart (Salute!, Une Rose) or cloyingly sweet (Zahd, Glühwein). This was the first time I discovered a wine accord that is done right. It is glacéd but not cloying, with enough of the tannic facets but never going overboard. Perfectly complemented by the spicy, camphorous, and sweet facets of the bay laurel. The woods and resins provide a perfect base, and all other facets come in and out slightly differently each time I wear it.
There is nothing I can compare Blask to - unique and avant-garde, as alluring and deceiving as a cask of Amontillado.
IG:@memory.of.scents
I wonder what Fortunato did once out of his stupor?
"That damned Montresor, I Trusted him! Trusted him about the Amontillado." Trust...
He probably drank to his death. The death of Dionysos. His Laurel crown is no longer a symbol of triumph. The glass of wine spilled on the cellar floor and over his garments. The dank scent of the cellar, wood, wine, and bay laurel, and the soon-to-be decomposing corpse of poor Fortunato.
Blask, a perfume about Trust, the deepest bond between human beings, as stated by the brand, is an ingenious composition put together by perfumers Christophe Laudamiel and Christophe Hornetz.
It is such an intelligent perfume that constantly brings to mind Edgar Allan Poe's story. I can smell it in Blask.
And what does it smell like? The major notes for me are the Bay Laurel, the red wine, the woods, and the resins. The interplay is fascinating, and many imaginary accords emerge from it - flowers, walnuts, leather, incense, and a decomposing/rotten smell. And yet, it is such an addictive, or should I say, intoxicating perfume, that puts laurel and wine to exquisite use. I have developed an infatuation with bay leaf in perfumery, especially the way it blends into Oriental compositions, as it does here. As for the wine, while I enjoy boozy facets in fragrances, I never found a wine accord to suit my tastes until now. Most of them are overly tart (Salute!, Une Rose) or cloyingly sweet (Zahd, Glühwein). This was the first time I discovered a wine accord that is done right. It is glacéd but not cloying, with enough of the tannic facets but never going overboard. Perfectly complemented by the spicy, camphorous, and sweet facets of the bay laurel. The woods and resins provide a perfect base, and all other facets come in and out slightly differently each time I wear it.
There is nothing I can compare Blask to - unique and avant-garde, as alluring and deceiving as a cask of Amontillado.
IG:@memory.of.scents
Ralf Schwieger does a Kandinsky
One of the most abstract and fun perfumes from Edition de Parfums, a line often referred to as "cold" or "dull." Lipstick Rose is not a dull or cold perfume. It fills me with joy every time I smell it. For many reasons. For one, it does stay true to its name, accurately capturing that waxy-cosmetic texture that could relate to the make-up product. I remember being utterly fascinated the first time I tried it, never imagining that it could so vividly capture the "lipstick" accord. Then, it recalls scents that I can trace back to my grandmother, most likely her cosmetic products, therefore, it has a beautifully nostalgic impact and retro flair. Finally, it feels like a comical interpretation of a Rose perfume, like a bizarre caricature of the flower. Thoroughly fun and highly original. I believe it was the first of its genre back in 2000 when it was released. I feel Ralf Schwieger is such an underrated perfumer. I wish he signed more creations for Frederic Malle. His perfumes seem very clever, a bit peculiar, with a ubiquitous amount of laughter in them.
Lipstick Rose is first and foremost a rose perfume, with many twists and turns. If you don't like Rose perfumes, give this one a try. If you just want to try something fun, get a sample. Even though nowadays this DNA has been done to death, I still believe no one does it as well. The opening is bright and sparkling with fruity accords like pomelo and raspberry. There is a fizziness about it that makes me think of champagne. I love this introduction, and it is one of the reasons why I enjoy Lipstick Rose in the heat. It's such an invigorating kick that lasts for a good while. The mid is dominated by floral accords, where the Rose takes center stage. A pink and green, bright and fresh rose. The violet plays gently around it to imbue a slightly powdery feel and to complement the fruity accords, then later in the evolution, the iris comes to add this waxy and lipstick-like texture, which creates the overall impression of a cosmetic product. It reminds me of Dior Homme and the way the iris is used there to suggest a similar effect. The base is ambery-musky with vanilla that never cloys but wears as a Frederic Malle perfume should, elegant and poised. Therefore, I have no problem wearing it in the heat.
For many years, I enjoyed smelling this perfume but felt unsure about wearing it till I realized it is such an abstract piece of art that one cannot put a gender on it. How could you put a gender on a Picasso or a Kandinsky? I think men should look past the name and give this a try. If you have your looks down and know how to dress it up, it can make for a brilliant match.
IG:@memory.of.scents
Lipstick Rose is first and foremost a rose perfume, with many twists and turns. If you don't like Rose perfumes, give this one a try. If you just want to try something fun, get a sample. Even though nowadays this DNA has been done to death, I still believe no one does it as well. The opening is bright and sparkling with fruity accords like pomelo and raspberry. There is a fizziness about it that makes me think of champagne. I love this introduction, and it is one of the reasons why I enjoy Lipstick Rose in the heat. It's such an invigorating kick that lasts for a good while. The mid is dominated by floral accords, where the Rose takes center stage. A pink and green, bright and fresh rose. The violet plays gently around it to imbue a slightly powdery feel and to complement the fruity accords, then later in the evolution, the iris comes to add this waxy and lipstick-like texture, which creates the overall impression of a cosmetic product. It reminds me of Dior Homme and the way the iris is used there to suggest a similar effect. The base is ambery-musky with vanilla that never cloys but wears as a Frederic Malle perfume should, elegant and poised. Therefore, I have no problem wearing it in the heat.
For many years, I enjoyed smelling this perfume but felt unsure about wearing it till I realized it is such an abstract piece of art that one cannot put a gender on it. How could you put a gender on a Picasso or a Kandinsky? I think men should look past the name and give this a try. If you have your looks down and know how to dress it up, it can make for a brilliant match.
IG:@memory.of.scents
Not Unique but Well Executed
While Cuir Cannage may not be among the most original Dior releases, it is my favorite, second only to Eau Noire and overtaking Dior Homme Parfum. I'm not a fan of this house, but I love what they did with the early Privee line. Many critiqued Demachy, but he had a good run at Dior. Now, "Captain Diabetes" is in charge, and if you could still get perfumes like Cuir Cannage in Paris before, Kurkdijan decided to make it easier for you and completely terminate the best scents from an already elusive line.
As I said, Cuir Cannage doesn't bring anything new to the leather genre. Yes, it was inspired by Chanel's Cuir de Russie and then sits right in the same lane as perfumes like Knize, Tabac Blond, Cuir Mauresque, and Great Britain, but for me, it shines more than the others. It easily tops the Chanel; it is less sweet/syrupy and more about the leather compared to the Lutens (which I owned, wore, and loved for years), and it is not as powdery and floral as the Roja. It walks the perfect balance between a smoky/ashy leather with woody and musky undertones and beautiful floral notes (orange blossom mostly with some ylang and iris). It is assertive and even slightly aggressive, but never crosses the line. It is elegant and sophisticated but knows how to make a stand. For me, it plays the perfect tune. The right amount of everything, while nothing feels out of place. I like the dry and ashy aspects of it, but also the oily-sweet muskiness it dries down to, with just the right amount of birch. I don't find it overly floral and detect more of the orange blossom over the iris and the ylang-ylang, especially in the opening and through the heart, while the base is more about the smoky woods and faux castoreum.
IG:@memory.of.scents
As I said, Cuir Cannage doesn't bring anything new to the leather genre. Yes, it was inspired by Chanel's Cuir de Russie and then sits right in the same lane as perfumes like Knize, Tabac Blond, Cuir Mauresque, and Great Britain, but for me, it shines more than the others. It easily tops the Chanel; it is less sweet/syrupy and more about the leather compared to the Lutens (which I owned, wore, and loved for years), and it is not as powdery and floral as the Roja. It walks the perfect balance between a smoky/ashy leather with woody and musky undertones and beautiful floral notes (orange blossom mostly with some ylang and iris). It is assertive and even slightly aggressive, but never crosses the line. It is elegant and sophisticated but knows how to make a stand. For me, it plays the perfect tune. The right amount of everything, while nothing feels out of place. I like the dry and ashy aspects of it, but also the oily-sweet muskiness it dries down to, with just the right amount of birch. I don't find it overly floral and detect more of the orange blossom over the iris and the ylang-ylang, especially in the opening and through the heart, while the base is more about the smoky woods and faux castoreum.
IG:@memory.of.scents
Le Maroc Pour Elle, ou Pour Lui
A beautiful and opulent Floral-Oriental perfume with a misleading name. Le Maroc Pour Elle does a "Portrait of a Lady" type of labeling when, in reality, it could easily pass as "Le Maroc Pour Lui."
Leaving the name aside, this is a beautiful Oriental treatment of Jasmine, the most prominent floral note, supported by Rose and Lavender. I love Jasmine in perfumes, but it has to be natural-smelling. I came to develop an aversion toward the Hedione built-up accords that saturate the market. Furthermore, it needs to be handled with care. Not too fruity, nor too rubbery or indolic. Yes, I am picky. Here, it is used exquisitely by a nose who has proved numerous times that he understands and appreciates floral materials and that he knows how to handle them. What he decides to do with the remainder of the composition might not always please my fancy, but I love the way he weaves it here (as well as in Une Rose Chypree).
The opening of Le Maroc is fizzy and bright due to the mandarin and the lavender. I find this sparkling opening prevalent in many of Andy Tauer's perfumes, and I am a fan. It is invigorating and different from the usual choice of introductory greetings most perfumers opt for. Jasmine enters the scene almost immediately, opulent and assertive with the right amount of indolic facets and sweetness, while nothing about it feels excessive. The lavender helps to balance the queen of the night until the rose and later, the woods and resins take the burden. You see, she is always restrained by the secondary players and never allowed to overshadow the composition. The rose is present but merely guards her, never crossing the line. The base of Le Maroc is creamy and woody. I get the cedar mostly, and thankfully, none of the Iso-E Super that prevents me from loving PHI Une Rose De Kandahar. Along the cedar, a melange of resins gives a hint of smokiness, sweetness, and a dusty texture. I would say the woods are more prevalent than the resins and almost give off an antique furniture vibe (or an apothecary).
Le Maroc Pour Elle makes me picture a well-kept flower garden in the Orient, maybe within the domain of a luxurious palace, a stroll through the garden at dusk when the flowers speak the loudest. I think men can easily enjoy this as the lavender gives off a nice fougerish touch in the opening that lasts through the heart, where the strong woody notes (mainly the cedar) take over. Don't judge by the name, but let your nose guide you.
IG:@memory.of.scents
Leaving the name aside, this is a beautiful Oriental treatment of Jasmine, the most prominent floral note, supported by Rose and Lavender. I love Jasmine in perfumes, but it has to be natural-smelling. I came to develop an aversion toward the Hedione built-up accords that saturate the market. Furthermore, it needs to be handled with care. Not too fruity, nor too rubbery or indolic. Yes, I am picky. Here, it is used exquisitely by a nose who has proved numerous times that he understands and appreciates floral materials and that he knows how to handle them. What he decides to do with the remainder of the composition might not always please my fancy, but I love the way he weaves it here (as well as in Une Rose Chypree).
The opening of Le Maroc is fizzy and bright due to the mandarin and the lavender. I find this sparkling opening prevalent in many of Andy Tauer's perfumes, and I am a fan. It is invigorating and different from the usual choice of introductory greetings most perfumers opt for. Jasmine enters the scene almost immediately, opulent and assertive with the right amount of indolic facets and sweetness, while nothing about it feels excessive. The lavender helps to balance the queen of the night until the rose and later, the woods and resins take the burden. You see, she is always restrained by the secondary players and never allowed to overshadow the composition. The rose is present but merely guards her, never crossing the line. The base of Le Maroc is creamy and woody. I get the cedar mostly, and thankfully, none of the Iso-E Super that prevents me from loving PHI Une Rose De Kandahar. Along the cedar, a melange of resins gives a hint of smokiness, sweetness, and a dusty texture. I would say the woods are more prevalent than the resins and almost give off an antique furniture vibe (or an apothecary).
Le Maroc Pour Elle makes me picture a well-kept flower garden in the Orient, maybe within the domain of a luxurious palace, a stroll through the garden at dusk when the flowers speak the loudest. I think men can easily enjoy this as the lavender gives off a nice fougerish touch in the opening that lasts through the heart, where the strong woody notes (mainly the cedar) take over. Don't judge by the name, but let your nose guide you.
IG:@memory.of.scents
The "Proper" Peau D'Espagne
On one hand, there was the Santa Maria Novella's interpretation of a Spanish Leather accord, and then there is the Oriza L. Legrand take on the theme with a perfume that dates back to 1872 but recently was reorchestrated to fit in today's market and comply with ongoing regulations. While the SMN was a monolithic and rough interpretation, the Oriza feels like a proper Peau D'Espagne perfume, more intricate in its evolution and scent profile. The only thing they share is the opening and the way both portray the leather accord (birchwood heavy).
Oriza's take on Peau D'Espagne feels like a front-seat show to the entire process of leather curing and perfuming, all the way to the final product. It tells a beautiful story of how it was done decades ago.
The opening is rough and very similar to the SMN, with the smoky birchwood hitting hard, accompanied by citrus and aromatic herbs. However, unlike the SMN, it is less aggressive, with the aromatic and zesty qualities holding on for longer. The leather accord at this stage feels much like raw hide, freshly peeled off and bloody, waiting in the tannery for the curing process. Many people will find the opening overwhelming due to the smokiness combined with that raw hide accord, the herbs, medicinal quality, as well as a prominent urinous facet that I have a hard time placing. The first part of the perfume I'd describe as being "inside the tannery."
The second part reveals a great number of floral notes while the smokiness retreats and the leather becomes more supple. The curing takes care of that, while the perfuming process begins with imbuing the garment with various essential oils. I detect jasmine, carnation, and lavender. The latter smells quite powdery and might also play a role in what I'd describe as a "soap" accord that creeps in. Still smoky but more brown in color and floral in smell, with a nice powdery and soapy touch.
The final part is beholding the finished product. At this point, the smokiness is subtle while I detect a leather accord that feels dusty-powdery, slightly resinous, and sweet. I picture a nice pair of leather gloves or bookbindings. At this part of the evolution, the resins (styrax, benzoin) play a significant role in creating that soft, smoky-sweet, and dusty sensation, with the styrax most likely continuing to push out the leather-like impression. It is soft, supple, and powdery at this point, a beautiful final product that was worth the wait.
This is a proper take on Peau D'Espagne in my books and a well-thought-out composition from start to finish that feels coherent and true to the inspiration. The opening is rough, even rougher than the SMN due to the "bloody" raw hide accord, but if one is patient will be rewarded with an amazing journey. Another thing that I need to mention is the pissy quality of the perfume that, to an extent, reminds me of civettone, albeit not listed. It gives a nice touch to an already vintage composition, but I figure it might not sit well with some people, therefore, I felt like mentioning it.
IG:@memory.of.scents
Oriza's take on Peau D'Espagne feels like a front-seat show to the entire process of leather curing and perfuming, all the way to the final product. It tells a beautiful story of how it was done decades ago.
The opening is rough and very similar to the SMN, with the smoky birchwood hitting hard, accompanied by citrus and aromatic herbs. However, unlike the SMN, it is less aggressive, with the aromatic and zesty qualities holding on for longer. The leather accord at this stage feels much like raw hide, freshly peeled off and bloody, waiting in the tannery for the curing process. Many people will find the opening overwhelming due to the smokiness combined with that raw hide accord, the herbs, medicinal quality, as well as a prominent urinous facet that I have a hard time placing. The first part of the perfume I'd describe as being "inside the tannery."
The second part reveals a great number of floral notes while the smokiness retreats and the leather becomes more supple. The curing takes care of that, while the perfuming process begins with imbuing the garment with various essential oils. I detect jasmine, carnation, and lavender. The latter smells quite powdery and might also play a role in what I'd describe as a "soap" accord that creeps in. Still smoky but more brown in color and floral in smell, with a nice powdery and soapy touch.
The final part is beholding the finished product. At this point, the smokiness is subtle while I detect a leather accord that feels dusty-powdery, slightly resinous, and sweet. I picture a nice pair of leather gloves or bookbindings. At this part of the evolution, the resins (styrax, benzoin) play a significant role in creating that soft, smoky-sweet, and dusty sensation, with the styrax most likely continuing to push out the leather-like impression. It is soft, supple, and powdery at this point, a beautiful final product that was worth the wait.
This is a proper take on Peau D'Espagne in my books and a well-thought-out composition from start to finish that feels coherent and true to the inspiration. The opening is rough, even rougher than the SMN due to the "bloody" raw hide accord, but if one is patient will be rewarded with an amazing journey. Another thing that I need to mention is the pissy quality of the perfume that, to an extent, reminds me of civettone, albeit not listed. It gives a nice touch to an already vintage composition, but I figure it might not sit well with some people, therefore, I felt like mentioning it.
IG:@memory.of.scents
