HugeBalls

Unfortunately, Past & Present: Vietnam seems to me to be a very imbalanced and poorly composed fragrance. The citronellol scent is SO strong that it completely overwhelms the other notes, which is tragic because there are some seriously high-quality ingredients in this juice that deserve to be enjoyed. Mathew mentioned in a private conversation that the Turkish rose otto he used has a high concentration of citronellol. Between this and the three other rose ingredients, the citronella candle / bug spray note is simply way too overbearing.

Could there have been a batch error due to a volume miscalculation or slip of the hand? Probably not. Maybe it's intended to smell like this and I'm just particularly sensitive to this compound? I don't know. Either way, it was enough to irritate my skin and give me a burning sensation in my nasal passages. I wore it twice, for about 6-7 hours each time, and it didn't transform into something more pleasant or reveal subtler notes as it dried down either -- the citronellol clung to my skin and clothes and was unrelenting.

I have sampled other Lost Tribe fragrances that I've enjoyed, but this one was a tragic whiff and miss. Hoping to find another Lost Tribe perfume that I really enjoy so that I can rectify my disappointment with this particular fragrance. Onward and upward.

Honestly, one of the best scents I've ever had the pleasure of smelling. This is so damn smooth, with real ambergris, wild Filipino oud (my favorite variety), and florals that'll knock your socks off. Elysium is an expertly blended, ethereal attar. Well done.

P.S. - a little birdie told me that the folks at Sulaym have a limited batch that's macerating in aged musk.

I put this on and was instantly reminded of my childhood explorations in my grandparents' musty basement/cellar. Specifically, I remember venturing down there at around 12 years old, opening an old leather trunk with partially rusted latches, and finding a variety of old jerseys, dirt-caked & deflated footballs, decaying wooden tennis rackets, leather headgear, and various other ancient sporting paraphernalia with the stench of mildew, sweat, and wet soil permanently imbued in them. That's what Jungle Kinam:Pekanbaru smells like to me. It's not a pleasant scent, as the mustiness becomes overbearing and I can feel this weird bitter sensation on the side of my tongue when I wear this. The oud in this smells like it must have come from a permanently wet, mud-soaked region. Intetesting scent, but I can't imagine wearing this for anything other than nostalgic purposes.

So the other reviewers have pretty much nailed it already -- this the most accessible of the Memo leather fragrances. Memo leathers are pleasant, but they are something I really don't feel inclined to wear regularly, or even at all. As an example, how often do you want to smell like a leathery tomato plant (a la Italian Leather)? Once every three years? I dunno. Anyway, Ocean Leather bucks the Memo trend as a very approachable fresh citiric fragrance with jusssst a touch of leather to make it interesting. I wore it today while doing yard work outside and running errands -- unfortunately it died down rather quickly in the sun and wind and became faint and kinda unremarkable. I wish it had a bit more OOMPH! Now that I think about it, it has a whale...why the f@#& didn't Alienor Massenet use a bunch of real ambergris as a fixitive? Oh because its expensive and people already aren't buying Memo at the current prices. Even so, that would've been a fantastic addition and would have sent it rocketing upward to the higher levels of perfumery. Do it ya dinguses!

Perhaps I'm delusional after an 8-hour red-eye flight on which I watched Robert Egger's Nosferatu, but Oud Al Sultan by Bortnikoff feels like a sensory plunge into the desolate, foreboding crypts of Count Orlok’s castle. This fragrance feels dark and gothic -- like the bottle has captured an ominous essence.

From the first spray, I get a musty wood-furniture, damp & cold earth, ancient leatherbound tomes, and mixed floral notes. But these are not fresh flowers. Rather, they're like Ellen's heart-shaped locket -- filled with desiccated bouquets, clutched in the claw of an ageless vampire.

I expected the other top notes of bergamot, green mandarin, and blood mandarin to offer some brightness, as I've seen reviews elsewhere describing them as "tropical." To my nose, they're anything but that. I get moldering fruit left to rot in a forgotten sepulcher, their once bright essence now just a faint specter in a forgotten tomb.

While it's true that Oud al Sultan has a "clean" oud scent in that it doesn't invoke the animal-urine barnyard note -- its dank, musty undertones still dominate on my skin. To me, this is definitely not an uplifting rose/oud fragrance that you can wear in the spring or summertime. I find it to be far better suited to cold, shadowed nights when the world feels poised on the edge of something malevolent.