Wusubi

Animalic, unwearable. You can't even mention Cuoium without hearing these adjectives. Admittedly, this isn't an entry-level leather perfume, and I can't deny its pungency either. However, it's complex and well-blended, with multiple facets complementing each other. And - believe it or not - there's some sweetness to it.

It opens with an oily, gasoline-like leather, softened by a gorgeous violet accord. It's a bit powdery and smells like a crossover between lychee, raspberry and rose. While it isn't as sweet as Ombré Leather or as fruity as London, Gualtieri surely acknowledged the giants. Tuscan Leather's ashy undertone can be detected too.

Let's focus on the main star: leather. The leathery feeling is created by combining cade oil and labdanum, which can be off-putting to some. It's earthy and smoky, but also resinous, medicinal and musky. There's a dry woodiness to it, creating a charming contrast between smouldering woods and balsamic amber in the drydown.

Performance is remarkable - it's Orto Parisi after all. It lasts throughout the day, with loud projection for several hours. Having experience in the animalic and leathery departments certainly helps. It might strike you as chemical warfare initially, but give it time. The subtle nuances will show after more wears - especially the violet.

Groove Xcape is a curious creation. It has all the makings of an oriental composition, but doesn't include any oud. As such, spices, resins and musty patchouli are more noticeable, resulting in a creamy-leaning perfume, rather than a dry, woody one. It's not your typical Xerjoff product - more of a crossover between Amouage and Sorcinelli.

The opening is a great blast of cardamom and pepper; somewhere between green, floral and metallic. Spiciness is soon balanced out by a piney frankincense that's more balsamic than smoky. It also has a fresh, citrusy quality. Overall, the scent leans spicy and resinous, with honey-like facets of myrrh and mimosa.

If you're familiar with Karine Vinchon-Spehner's work, you'll notice some similarities with Memoir Man. There's a herbaceous, slightly medicinal undertone with a faint hint of booze, almost as if artemisia was used. Cedar and labdanum add subtle woodiness, but instead of Sorcinelli's dusty attic, I'm reminded of a musty basement.

I'm particularly fond of the deep drydown, where benzoin's vanillic warmth complements the damp earthiness of patchouli. The result? Somewhat dirty and spicy, yet still pleasant, with some sweetness to boot. I've had my doubts; after all, oud is a quintessential part of oriental blends. That said, it works, and allows me to enjoy different nuances.

Somehow, the fragrance doesn't commit to either schtick - Amouage or Sorcinelli. We get the best of both worlds - meditative incense and long-lasting resins. Don't be discouraged by the rating and give this one a shot if you enjoy Middle Eastern perfumery.

Falcon Leather Extrait isn't a challenging fragrance; even if you have limited experience with leather accords. Everything is smooth and falls into place, from opening to drydown. If that sounds boring, rest assured, the quality and wearability make up for it.

I'm at that point of my life where I find car interior leathers obnoxious, floral/fruity leathers a bit juvenile and the truly animalic stuff isn't versatile. This is where Falcon Leather Extrait comes in, perfumed by Aurélien Guichard, who hails from Grasse. And well, Grasse is what you get - sophisticated French perfumery of the highest order.

Every note smells divine and the accords don't clash with each other. The leathery feeling is achieved through a combination of birch tar, labdanum and saffron. While it's a bit oily and smoky, it's not too greasy or animalic. Saffron adds a medicinal, spicy twist, but never turns rubbery and labdanum offers its musky, resinous warmth.

Balsamic, sweet contrast is accentuated by benzoin's vanillic undertones. There's also a dry, woody balance to the creamy notes - in the form of oud assafi. There might be a handful of tricky ingredients, but Guichard's percentages are on point. As such, these nuances end up complementing each other instead of screaming for attention.

Now let's address the elephant in the room - Matière Première's steep price proposition. Obviously, I would look at discounters and wait for a great deal to pop up, but ultimately, this is the leather endgame for a true gentleman. Family-friendly and easy to wear, while still providing that dark, leathery facet. In my opinion, that's priceless.

It's rare for a modern-day release to capture the essence of vintage fragrances. Doraphilia is bold, transportive and should be considered as a tribute to the golden age of perfumery. Miguel Matos went out of his way to make sure it smells oldschool.

Don't expect a typical leather perfume. In fact, all of the aspects you would associate with women's leather goods - be it leather handbags, jackets or pants - play an important role. Soapy aldehydes, powdery florals, an absurd amount of civet... at times, it really feels like sifting through your grandmother's closet.

While aldehydes manage to sparkle some brightness, the scent is civet-forward and pissy. This gradually recedes into a pleasant, musky, warm undertone, but the opening isn't for the faint of heart. That said, the lush flower bouquet is even more intense. It manages to smell both dated and incredibly beautiful.

Other than powderiness, narcissus and lilac bring green, indolic nuances. Add a honey-like mimosa and a musty, spicy patchouli to the mix and you're in for a wild ride. There's a soft, but present leathery undertone, accompanied by earthy, furry and mossy facets, making it perfectly wearable for the male population.

Doraphilia lives up to its name and pays a kinky homage to fur, leather and chypres. If you aren't familiar with Miguel's products, go easy on the trigger. Somehow, it fills a room and lingers in the air, sticks to clothes like glue and curses you with a pissy, floral aura.

Iris has been a hit-or-miss note for me. Usually, it either leans too make-upy or too greasy for my preference. ÔIKB adds an earthy, carrot-like facet, ranging from juicy to carrot skin. And as we all know, beta-carotene is good for our health.

There's some rooty sweetness to it, akin to orris root (violet). It's lush and refreshing with soapy lavender and spices creating a zingy, almost metallic nuance. Hyraceum starts out slightly bitter and animalic, but quickly calms down. Eventually, it behaves like immortelle on my skin - hay-like, herbaceous, perhaps even honeyed.

As it starts drying, ÔIKB gets more powdery, but nothing like make-up or an overdose of tonka bean. It reminds me of a dusty cocoa base, except carrot is the leading actor here. The dry aspect is further accentuated by cedar and coumarin. This works splendidly with immortelle, pushing the dried grass envelope. I can't pick up any leather.

That said, it isn't too dry or powdery, which could be attributed to an implied leather note. Once hyraceum starts blooming, it strikes me as more musky than leathery. The drydown unveils a smooth interplay between sweet, woody earthiness and creamy, musky warmth. Performance is good; 8-9 hours of longevity, 3-4 hours of loud projection.

Another selling point: Santi Burgas is the most generous brand I've dealt with. For example, white collection discovery set costs 40€ and contains 21ml of juice. They offer free shipping, while throwing in two extra samples and a 15% discount for your next order (no time limit). Oh, and pressurized atomizers. What's not to like?