Eunicorn

A creamy perfume, warm and round, with a microscopic hint of abstract plastic that gives it just the right counterbalance to avoid being too sweet.

I had three samples from Le Labo sent over, and because their bottles and labels are so neutral, I couldn't tell whether they were more for women or men. Jasmine 17 was clearly more feminine to me, due to its floral scent. Vetiver 46 is unisex, leaning more masculine. And Labdanum 16 was completely neutral for me, so unisex.

Women can use Labdanum 16 as a women's perfume, men as a men's perfume.

In the past, I used to enjoy wearing perfumes by Jil Sander, but I was younger then. During my last testing of some Jil Sander fragrances, I liked this one so much that I spontaneously took it with me. Herbal, clear, interesting (Vetiver always smells "interesting" to me), pleasant, not boring, certainly not boring as a perfume.

Something started to bother me while wearing it: It made me, as the wearer, feel boring. It lacked character, depth, humanity. The perfume operates so much on a superficial level that I feel ordinary with it over time, and not ordinary in an interesting way, but ordinary in the sense of being simple-minded - pretty, but dumb.

At first glance, I was thrilled. Vanille d'Iris instantly transported me to a beach in the evening by the sea, when all the people have left and the scents of the day linger in the warm breeze.

I applied it to my skin to see how it would develop. And then it turned unpleasant. It became old and older, and its youthful freshness refused to stay. What remained was a rather conservative image, and I increasingly wondered if I would ever find it pleasant on someone else.

From time to time, I smell the small sample and enjoy its successful complexity. It is a small, fine work of art, and that is what I particularly like about perfumes.

It is simply its powderiness that always strikes me as the cosmetic covering of an underlying beauty. And it is not just powdery; it is almost cosmetic to the point of plaster and bandage.

As a man, I naturally lack the opportunity to say whether the scent would suit me, but I would be interested to know how the fragrance works on a woman who says it suits her, and whether I would then like it.

Oh my goodness, what a perfume! Like a freshly washed sweater from an attractive Frenchman taken out of the closet in 1964. A bow to Stéphane Humbert Lucas, whose Taklamakan already has its own throne with me. An incredible fragrance. No desire to guess any ingredients. It smells phenomenal, this is how a good perfume should smell.
Nothing pushes forward, absolute lightness with grounded clarity at the same time. Both carry you into bliss. This is not a perfume, this is a drug.
I have a decant, and I will use it!

Dark red, smoky, Oud? I can't find anything about the ingredients. Red wine, smoke, patchouli? Very dark. A bit too much of "leave me alone, I'm individualistic and once you get to know my dark sides..." Oh no, thanks, that's too much effort for me. Either put it out there or keep it to yourself. The type of person who says "get to know me first," but I respond with a clear "get to the point, or be quiet." But it's still cool. It doesn't let you go, this kind of thing. Is that heavy patchouli lingering? Torn back and forth, but then too much smoke. And then you think: O.K., fine, he probably prefers to be alone now. The smell of a campfire night in self-pity.