Top Rated Reviews
2018
sebjar
My review for B-612 by Nishane on YouTube
This is my Nishane Istanbul B-612 Fragrance Review. B-612 by Nishane is the latest of 2 new releases from their new Le Petit Prince collection of fragrances which also includes Vain & Naive. B-612 is a very classy, elegant and ultra luxury Fougere fragrance. Really gorgeous. I can't get enough of this style of fragrance and here we have one of the best. I hope you get to try it. To find out more about this fragrance please watch my review on YouTube. Thank you.
My Jovoy Remember Me Review On YouTube
This is my Jovoy Remember Me Fragrance Review on YouTube. A fragrance I sampled at Esxence in April of 2018 which I enjoyed but after I received this fragrance for this review video I even enjoyed much more. Given I was sick with a cold during Esxence so I wasn't smelling much. Remember Me is absolutely a very delicious composition created by Cecile Zarokian for Jovoy. In Remember Me you have big dominant delicious tea note, very beautiful and aromatic, spicy, cardamom note, and an overdose of creamy, decadent milky woody notes. Chai Tea Latte anyone? Make sure you order it Breve! To find out more about Remember Me by Jovoy please watch my review over at YouTube. Thank you so much.
3 Comments
jtd
old school
I had an ah-ha moment when I tried vintage Tabu for the first time. Suddenly Youth Dew, Opium and Coco made perfect sense---they were descendants of Tabu. Perfumer Jean Carles approach seems based on the premise that if the oriental genre is built from forceful materials and ferocious tones, why disguise it with tassels and trim? Why try to tame it?
Tabu backs up its vaguely threatening name with a strapping, seductive fragrance. It's an intimidating perfumes. The combination of aggressive, spiced florals and powdered leather is just one example of the hard/soft conflict seeded throughout Tabu. (Spoiler alert: the hard edge always wins.) Tabu investigates olfactory extremes without dicking around with the comfortable center. Vanillic amber oriental perfumes often dive straight for the soft middle ground and wind up a bit eye-glazey. The trap for the perfumer is emphasizing coziness at the expense of spine and coming up with olfactory comfort food.
Tabu’s dense powdery opening is in fact sweet but it’s a red herring. As the sweetness of the topnote settles, the acerbic edge of the spiced resin accord comes forward to create a fascinating counterbalance. The powder lasts well into the long-arc heartnotes and the way that it’s cantilevered off the bitter base of resins focusses attention more on texture than aroma. The cinnamon-clove spices have a similarly tricky balancing act. They alternate between hot and cold without ever dwindling to lukewarm. Carles seems willing to concede the aesthetic middle ground, finding more value at the ends of the spectrum. Tabu is technically an oriental but had as much in common with the big tobacco and leather perfumes of the 20s and 30s as it did with the recumbent Shalimar. No fear of lack of spine here.
Jacques Guerlain’s Shalimar is considered the superlative oriental perfume, and for valid reasons. It has superior form and elaborate, sophisticated style. It also has a larger-than-life Auntie Mame quality. Next to Shalimar's layered, accessorized style, Tabu cames off as starched and corseted. Carles’ style was less opulent than Guerlain’s but not a bit less complex. Carles differed from Guerlain in that he found that the richness of the oriental was not in the drape but in the tailoring.
(from scenthurdle.com)
Tabu backs up its vaguely threatening name with a strapping, seductive fragrance. It's an intimidating perfumes. The combination of aggressive, spiced florals and powdered leather is just one example of the hard/soft conflict seeded throughout Tabu. (Spoiler alert: the hard edge always wins.) Tabu investigates olfactory extremes without dicking around with the comfortable center. Vanillic amber oriental perfumes often dive straight for the soft middle ground and wind up a bit eye-glazey. The trap for the perfumer is emphasizing coziness at the expense of spine and coming up with olfactory comfort food.
Tabu’s dense powdery opening is in fact sweet but it’s a red herring. As the sweetness of the topnote settles, the acerbic edge of the spiced resin accord comes forward to create a fascinating counterbalance. The powder lasts well into the long-arc heartnotes and the way that it’s cantilevered off the bitter base of resins focusses attention more on texture than aroma. The cinnamon-clove spices have a similarly tricky balancing act. They alternate between hot and cold without ever dwindling to lukewarm. Carles seems willing to concede the aesthetic middle ground, finding more value at the ends of the spectrum. Tabu is technically an oriental but had as much in common with the big tobacco and leather perfumes of the 20s and 30s as it did with the recumbent Shalimar. No fear of lack of spine here.
Jacques Guerlain’s Shalimar is considered the superlative oriental perfume, and for valid reasons. It has superior form and elaborate, sophisticated style. It also has a larger-than-life Auntie Mame quality. Next to Shalimar's layered, accessorized style, Tabu cames off as starched and corseted. Carles’ style was less opulent than Guerlain’s but not a bit less complex. Carles differed from Guerlain in that he found that the richness of the oriental was not in the drape but in the tailoring.
(from scenthurdle.com)
Elysium
The Ugly Duckling
At last, the big egg did crack. "Peep," said the young one, and out he tumbled, but he was so big and ugly. The duck took a look at him. "That's a frightfully big duckling," she said... He was a swan! ... Other swans said "The new one is the most handsome of all. He's so young and so good-looking." The old swans bowed in his honor!
Mr. Burberry is like the ugly duckling. With its dark and shaded grey bottle and black hat. It can't be all things to all people. If you try to please everyone, you'll end up pleasing no one. And Mr. Burberry is a pleasure for many but not for everyone. After many Brit flankers, Mr. Burberry is a nearly recent new release that heavily deviates from those flankers, both in the look and in the smell. Mr. Burberry smells clean, meaning this in the literal sense.
It opens up with some subtle citrus grapefruit, which has an undertone of synthetics, blended with some warm creamy-minty-spicy tones that I speculate are cool cardamom combined with spicy tarragon. This stage awakens the senses, and an aura of masculinity permeates the fragrance.
Gently, the citrus and herbal evanesce and Mr. Burberry becomes woody and smoky. To me, the fragrance seems to have a manifest presence of wetness. It smells like a city after rain, which is not by chance that drizzly London was such an inspiration. You can still feel the mist in the air mixed with the smell of smoke and soil from the street. The scent comprises a full and sturdy heart, whose classic fougère structure is masterfully reinterpreted in an extremely contemporary key. An accord of birch leaves gives a warm aroma to the essence, while cedarwood adds strength and balance to the sparkling top notes.
A while later, Mr. Burberry turns very soapy. It reminds me of shaving cream, the one that my dad prepared every morning with a shaving brush. The soap smell makes Mr. Burberry an excellent choice for occasions when you want to smell good without being noticed. Birch leaves contribute to the greenish facet of the heart, and a little freshly grated nutmeg adds the right touch of spiciness. The light and the glowing base is a true celebration of the lively nature of vetiver. Improved with guaiac wood, it flows into intense smoky notes that do not endanger the bright aroma that evokes the smell of the earth.
It lasts on me many hours, even though it is barely detectable after four hours. The dry-down is a combination of pitches, roots, moss, and woods. It stays transparent and slightly sweet, yet fresh and green. There is a slight synthetic tinge to it, which I don't mind. It transitions smoothly from one stage to the next, herbal then green-spicy then woody-resinous, notably are the sandalwood, the cedarwood, and the guaiac wood.
To my flavor, it could be worn anywhere, anytime, it works for any occasion, any age, and any weather, yet my preferences drive me toward spring and summer days. The woods and resins in it might work in cold weather like early fall, but I have not tested it yet.
Hence, what is an ugly duckling to the hype, it turns to be the most handsome swan to me.
-Elysium
Mr. Burberry is like the ugly duckling. With its dark and shaded grey bottle and black hat. It can't be all things to all people. If you try to please everyone, you'll end up pleasing no one. And Mr. Burberry is a pleasure for many but not for everyone. After many Brit flankers, Mr. Burberry is a nearly recent new release that heavily deviates from those flankers, both in the look and in the smell. Mr. Burberry smells clean, meaning this in the literal sense.
It opens up with some subtle citrus grapefruit, which has an undertone of synthetics, blended with some warm creamy-minty-spicy tones that I speculate are cool cardamom combined with spicy tarragon. This stage awakens the senses, and an aura of masculinity permeates the fragrance.
Gently, the citrus and herbal evanesce and Mr. Burberry becomes woody and smoky. To me, the fragrance seems to have a manifest presence of wetness. It smells like a city after rain, which is not by chance that drizzly London was such an inspiration. You can still feel the mist in the air mixed with the smell of smoke and soil from the street. The scent comprises a full and sturdy heart, whose classic fougère structure is masterfully reinterpreted in an extremely contemporary key. An accord of birch leaves gives a warm aroma to the essence, while cedarwood adds strength and balance to the sparkling top notes.
A while later, Mr. Burberry turns very soapy. It reminds me of shaving cream, the one that my dad prepared every morning with a shaving brush. The soap smell makes Mr. Burberry an excellent choice for occasions when you want to smell good without being noticed. Birch leaves contribute to the greenish facet of the heart, and a little freshly grated nutmeg adds the right touch of spiciness. The light and the glowing base is a true celebration of the lively nature of vetiver. Improved with guaiac wood, it flows into intense smoky notes that do not endanger the bright aroma that evokes the smell of the earth.
It lasts on me many hours, even though it is barely detectable after four hours. The dry-down is a combination of pitches, roots, moss, and woods. It stays transparent and slightly sweet, yet fresh and green. There is a slight synthetic tinge to it, which I don't mind. It transitions smoothly from one stage to the next, herbal then green-spicy then woody-resinous, notably are the sandalwood, the cedarwood, and the guaiac wood.
To my flavor, it could be worn anywhere, anytime, it works for any occasion, any age, and any weather, yet my preferences drive me toward spring and summer days. The woods and resins in it might work in cold weather like early fall, but I have not tested it yet.
Hence, what is an ugly duckling to the hype, it turns to be the most handsome swan to me.
-Elysium
1 Comment
Like A Tattoo On The Soul
It's that time of the year again. The sun starts to rise later and begins to set as soon as we step foot out of the office. The mornings are misty and bleak, and before we know it, we are dusting off the turnout rugs. Autumn is on its way. And I require L'Eau Bleue D'Issey, as blue as the Rosemary Blossoms, Juniper Berries, and Cypress Needles, that stand out from this underrated gem. There is a complexity about this fragrance that is hard to put into words. It's just a captivating fragrance with an exciting blend of notes that I love. It smells oddly like a spice rack on a shed in the middle of a forest full of cypress trees during the rain. Issey Miyake, as a fragrance house, makes unique Japanese fragrances, and this is no exception. If you are anything like me, L'Eau D'Issey was a coup de foudre (love at first sight!).
A surprising blend of notes that might work well in a wet and cold season like fall, L'Eau Bleue is anything but your standard aquatic fragrance, despite its cobalt blue bottle. This fragrance is blue in an emotional sense. It's a rainy day, feeling solemn for no discernable reason, lost in a wet pine forest with no sunshine. Herbaceous, camphoraceous, sharp, and indeed all about aromatic herbs and berries, this gem is only not going to be for everyone. If there's one scent I know, it's L'Eau Bleue. I initially tried this scent when it was first launched in 2004, and I remember it was middle fall evening, and I tested it both on a paper strip and my skin. At that time, I even got a vial sample that is very rare nowadays; then, I entered a pub waiting for some friends of mine. It was when we hugged each other that I got a lot of compliments. "Damn, you smell so good, what are you wearing?". Without any hesitation, I decided to buy it a few times later when I found a 125ml bottle at an affordable price. I wore this every day for a year, and it was my signature at that time. I always thought it was a brisk, sharp distinctive fragrance. Since it's been well over a decade when I owned a bottle when I came across a 75ml bottle online for about 20 bucks, and I thought. "Why not?" I just had to revisit it.
The 2018 release opens with woody aromatic accents of warm rosemary and nose-crinkling pink pepper, with juniper berries and cypress needles from the heart already noticeable. It's like when you stand too close to an essential oil surround diffuser. There's a camphoraceous green accord, loaded with a very naturalistic rosemary note that smells a bit pine-like. It includes crushed juniper berries, anisic element, and possibly fennel or anything of that family's seeds. Vick's VapoRub comes to mind. The combined juniper, rosemary, ginger, cypress, and pepper forces are medicinal enough to create such a concoction. I love the green herbal notes, which come across in an uplifting and energizing manner. It's energizing, potent, and assertive, with a powerful green opening. The analogies of fresh rainfall in a forest are just spot-on. It does smell that good! Such a natural, clean, confident scent. I must admit that the initial spray is savoury rosemary and thyme, a little woody, which could be off-putting in itself for someone.
The magic of this one comes after about 30 minutes when those herbs mute a little. I can see why this wasn't a big seller as most novices choose a scent based on the top notes. A shot of lime juice and sweet mandarin jumpstarts a crisp and clean heart of juniper, cypress, and fresh lavender. This coniferous heart is rendered even greener with the addition of ginger. One feels a sense of mountainous green hills with broad, sweeping vistas over the blue Aegean. Forget the oranges and any fruity content. L'Eau Bleue is green, camphorated, and woody, weakening refreshingly. The blue bottle deceives because the fragrance comes down to the notes of rosemary, cypress, patchouli, and oakmoss, at least on my skin. Incidentally, the patchouli is very obvious and earthy.
As it drys down, it becomes a lot sweeter and earthy. As mentioned earlier, I get a great mix of the herbs with the bright Atlas cedar and oakmoss, slightly citrusy. Soft amber and polished sandalwood linger in the background with all these other vivacious notes. Strangely enough, it has a green/blue sort of feel to it overall, unlike any different fragrance I've smelled. The citrus and wood in the mix provide an excellent backbone holding the composition together sublimely. I enjoy it for some time. If I had to compare this scent with another I know and own, I would dare to say there is a close resemblance with Grigioperla Essence, and comparing the notes listed here shows many of the same ingredients.
Don't focus on or get overly distracted by the reasonably strong rosemary scent in the open. The rosemary eventually settles in very nicely with the rest of the composition. You end up with a brilliant arrangement of cypress, rosemary, and juniper berries being front and centre, while citruses, spices, woods, and amber play a subtle supporting role, all perfectly orchestrated in the dry down, resulting in this creatively smooth "masterpiece." Fresh and forest-green, cold and warm, uplifting and relaxing, creative, and versatile.
Honestly, it has been reformulated. While the surface has that juniper and rosemary bite I love so much, it fades quickly and becomes muted and muddled. While the old version lasts forever, this one becomes whisper-soft after 30 minutes. Notwithstanding, in general terms, Bleue is still a subtle brisk masculine scent; it just used to be a lot more sharp, daring, and distinctive, it attracted a lot of attention and comments. This one is the clean smelling office supported the imposter version. Pleasant smelling, but that's about it.
It is a perfect rainy day scent, making walking in the rain an even more refreshing experience. This one is a modern powerhouse with a unique twist, which in this case, is a robust medicinal opening similar to the smell of cough syrup. It's neither good nor bad, and it's just different. That is why you should try it before buying, as it may be off-putting. But if you get past the strange opening, the dry down is rich and deep, and the scent stays with you for many hours. The quality of Bleue is remarkable, and it could easily be a niche scent four times more expensive.
The performance was pretty killer on the original one, about nine or so hours with moderate to heavy sillage. Very masculine, I do not see this being doable for a woman. With that said, I don't see a man under 30 wearing this one either, although subjective. It would fit at the office or during casual moments. Bleue doesn't smell synthetic and is one of the most intense scents one can buy for under 30 euro. Unfortunately, it doesn't get the attention or the respect it deserves. If you want unique, this is a good bet. I recommend this when you need to feel zen. Sometimes the fall and early winter rainy days are beautiful. Don't use this during the warm and hot seasons, and the aromatic and balsamic accords are too heavy with hot temperatures. Yet, there is a lighter flanker designed and more appropriated for summertime, that's l'Eau Bleue d'Issey Eau Fraîche.
Remember that Bleue is true "a grower," meaning that for many, they may need to allow themselves time to grow into an appreciation of it or otherwise miss out entirely on this one-of-a-kind gem. It is ultimately worth it!! So be patient when first trying Bleue.
-Elysium
A surprising blend of notes that might work well in a wet and cold season like fall, L'Eau Bleue is anything but your standard aquatic fragrance, despite its cobalt blue bottle. This fragrance is blue in an emotional sense. It's a rainy day, feeling solemn for no discernable reason, lost in a wet pine forest with no sunshine. Herbaceous, camphoraceous, sharp, and indeed all about aromatic herbs and berries, this gem is only not going to be for everyone. If there's one scent I know, it's L'Eau Bleue. I initially tried this scent when it was first launched in 2004, and I remember it was middle fall evening, and I tested it both on a paper strip and my skin. At that time, I even got a vial sample that is very rare nowadays; then, I entered a pub waiting for some friends of mine. It was when we hugged each other that I got a lot of compliments. "Damn, you smell so good, what are you wearing?". Without any hesitation, I decided to buy it a few times later when I found a 125ml bottle at an affordable price. I wore this every day for a year, and it was my signature at that time. I always thought it was a brisk, sharp distinctive fragrance. Since it's been well over a decade when I owned a bottle when I came across a 75ml bottle online for about 20 bucks, and I thought. "Why not?" I just had to revisit it.
The 2018 release opens with woody aromatic accents of warm rosemary and nose-crinkling pink pepper, with juniper berries and cypress needles from the heart already noticeable. It's like when you stand too close to an essential oil surround diffuser. There's a camphoraceous green accord, loaded with a very naturalistic rosemary note that smells a bit pine-like. It includes crushed juniper berries, anisic element, and possibly fennel or anything of that family's seeds. Vick's VapoRub comes to mind. The combined juniper, rosemary, ginger, cypress, and pepper forces are medicinal enough to create such a concoction. I love the green herbal notes, which come across in an uplifting and energizing manner. It's energizing, potent, and assertive, with a powerful green opening. The analogies of fresh rainfall in a forest are just spot-on. It does smell that good! Such a natural, clean, confident scent. I must admit that the initial spray is savoury rosemary and thyme, a little woody, which could be off-putting in itself for someone.
The magic of this one comes after about 30 minutes when those herbs mute a little. I can see why this wasn't a big seller as most novices choose a scent based on the top notes. A shot of lime juice and sweet mandarin jumpstarts a crisp and clean heart of juniper, cypress, and fresh lavender. This coniferous heart is rendered even greener with the addition of ginger. One feels a sense of mountainous green hills with broad, sweeping vistas over the blue Aegean. Forget the oranges and any fruity content. L'Eau Bleue is green, camphorated, and woody, weakening refreshingly. The blue bottle deceives because the fragrance comes down to the notes of rosemary, cypress, patchouli, and oakmoss, at least on my skin. Incidentally, the patchouli is very obvious and earthy.
As it drys down, it becomes a lot sweeter and earthy. As mentioned earlier, I get a great mix of the herbs with the bright Atlas cedar and oakmoss, slightly citrusy. Soft amber and polished sandalwood linger in the background with all these other vivacious notes. Strangely enough, it has a green/blue sort of feel to it overall, unlike any different fragrance I've smelled. The citrus and wood in the mix provide an excellent backbone holding the composition together sublimely. I enjoy it for some time. If I had to compare this scent with another I know and own, I would dare to say there is a close resemblance with Grigioperla Essence, and comparing the notes listed here shows many of the same ingredients.
Don't focus on or get overly distracted by the reasonably strong rosemary scent in the open. The rosemary eventually settles in very nicely with the rest of the composition. You end up with a brilliant arrangement of cypress, rosemary, and juniper berries being front and centre, while citruses, spices, woods, and amber play a subtle supporting role, all perfectly orchestrated in the dry down, resulting in this creatively smooth "masterpiece." Fresh and forest-green, cold and warm, uplifting and relaxing, creative, and versatile.
Honestly, it has been reformulated. While the surface has that juniper and rosemary bite I love so much, it fades quickly and becomes muted and muddled. While the old version lasts forever, this one becomes whisper-soft after 30 minutes. Notwithstanding, in general terms, Bleue is still a subtle brisk masculine scent; it just used to be a lot more sharp, daring, and distinctive, it attracted a lot of attention and comments. This one is the clean smelling office supported the imposter version. Pleasant smelling, but that's about it.
It is a perfect rainy day scent, making walking in the rain an even more refreshing experience. This one is a modern powerhouse with a unique twist, which in this case, is a robust medicinal opening similar to the smell of cough syrup. It's neither good nor bad, and it's just different. That is why you should try it before buying, as it may be off-putting. But if you get past the strange opening, the dry down is rich and deep, and the scent stays with you for many hours. The quality of Bleue is remarkable, and it could easily be a niche scent four times more expensive.
The performance was pretty killer on the original one, about nine or so hours with moderate to heavy sillage. Very masculine, I do not see this being doable for a woman. With that said, I don't see a man under 30 wearing this one either, although subjective. It would fit at the office or during casual moments. Bleue doesn't smell synthetic and is one of the most intense scents one can buy for under 30 euro. Unfortunately, it doesn't get the attention or the respect it deserves. If you want unique, this is a good bet. I recommend this when you need to feel zen. Sometimes the fall and early winter rainy days are beautiful. Don't use this during the warm and hot seasons, and the aromatic and balsamic accords are too heavy with hot temperatures. Yet, there is a lighter flanker designed and more appropriated for summertime, that's l'Eau Bleue d'Issey Eau Fraîche.
Remember that Bleue is true "a grower," meaning that for many, they may need to allow themselves time to grow into an appreciation of it or otherwise miss out entirely on this one-of-a-kind gem. It is ultimately worth it!! So be patient when first trying Bleue.
-Elysium
StellaDiverF
Surreal Iris Garden at The Magical Blue Hour
Smelling Irisoir, right from the opening, is a deeply satisfying experience to me. The orris is the unequivocal star of the first half hour, an exquisite delicacy of velvety, even buttery richness, violet-tinted woody elegance and just a hint of its rooty quirkiness. At the same time, a honeyed, slightly powdery floral heart steadily grows. Carnation, mimosa, lilac, almond-y helitrope are intricately intertwined into a fleecy bedding over smooth sandalwood and soft balsams, a luxurious, velvety mattress so soothing that the orris could all but fall deep within. This middle phase reminds me quite a bit of L'Heure Bleue, especially the sumptuous extrait de parfum (my reference is one from 90s). But Irisoir has a much stronger presence of orris and less of the anisic spiciness, tonka bean and other oriental elements. As a result, Irisoir feels much more floral in comparison, and more delicate and vibrant as well.
A quiet whisper of peach can be heard throughout the composition as well. It's at first slightly bitter and woody besides its sweet-tart fruitiness, like the flavour close to its stone. When the elegant and enveloping floral heart gradually softens after about 6 hours, the peach gains a bit more prominence. It's now a tender fruity warmth mingled with the dainty, honeyed petals of rose, rendered suede-like thanks to the ever so plush orris. Irisoir maintains this adorably silky skin scent of orris, violet, peach and rose over a discreet salty vetiver until it disappears with a total longevity of at least 10 hours. It mostly stays close to the skin, although it projects slightly during its opening hour.
Irisoir is described by some writers as a close contender to the mythical Iris Gris. As I've never smelt the original vintage version or the reconstructed one in Osmothèque, I can't provide any comparison. But I would say that the peach is more like a supporting actor in this star-studded attar. And the L'Heure Bleue association stemming from its abstract yet nectarous, powdery floral heart, rather evokes to me the perfumery of the early 20s century, like Sultan Pasha himself described it as a tribute to La Belle Epoque. That being said, Irisoir does not feel like a mere copy, but a timeless beauty that truly is inspired by the classic perfumery and moves forward in a certain artisitic direction with the help of quality materials and exquisite blending. I'd highly recommend giving it a try, especially if you are an orris/iris fan or if you enjoy warm floral oriental à la L'Heure Bleue.
A quiet whisper of peach can be heard throughout the composition as well. It's at first slightly bitter and woody besides its sweet-tart fruitiness, like the flavour close to its stone. When the elegant and enveloping floral heart gradually softens after about 6 hours, the peach gains a bit more prominence. It's now a tender fruity warmth mingled with the dainty, honeyed petals of rose, rendered suede-like thanks to the ever so plush orris. Irisoir maintains this adorably silky skin scent of orris, violet, peach and rose over a discreet salty vetiver until it disappears with a total longevity of at least 10 hours. It mostly stays close to the skin, although it projects slightly during its opening hour.
Irisoir is described by some writers as a close contender to the mythical Iris Gris. As I've never smelt the original vintage version or the reconstructed one in Osmothèque, I can't provide any comparison. But I would say that the peach is more like a supporting actor in this star-studded attar. And the L'Heure Bleue association stemming from its abstract yet nectarous, powdery floral heart, rather evokes to me the perfumery of the early 20s century, like Sultan Pasha himself described it as a tribute to La Belle Epoque. That being said, Irisoir does not feel like a mere copy, but a timeless beauty that truly is inspired by the classic perfumery and moves forward in a certain artisitic direction with the help of quality materials and exquisite blending. I'd highly recommend giving it a try, especially if you are an orris/iris fan or if you enjoy warm floral oriental à la L'Heure Bleue.
suntan
Perfume marketing tends to induce tsunami-sized eye-rolls in me, so I have a love/meh relationship with Etat Libre d'Orange. Love the perfume, cringe at the 'stories' the brand gives each of its perfumes. The scene-setting melodrama can be interesting as a side-bar, but the 'story' is irrelevant to the experience of the perfume. So when a friend recently turned me on to Une Amourette I started the odd little two-step I find myself doing with most ELDO perfumes: enjoy the perfume and just ignore the story. But the dance takes enough effort that I eventually give in, read the text and have a laugh.
I had just written some quick notes for myself that started with, "It’s a lovely, conservatively proportioned floriental. A contemporary take on a traditional genre." when I decided to take a peek at ELDO's take on Une Amourette. There designer Roland Mouret's is quoted: "Une Amourette is a no-holds-barred fragrance. It is not for everybody. It’s divisive. It will corrupt the fragrance category with its subversive positioning." Oh, for fuck's sake. Really?
Une Amourette isn't divisive or subversive in the least. But you know what? It's gorgeous. Forget corrupting categories and just dig the feel-goodness of Une Amourette--that's where this perfume hits its stride. A peppery citrus opening is the freshest, though not necessarily the brightest moment of the perfume. Matte, spicy, creamy-powdered florals illuminate the perfume from within and transfer their glow to your skin. A mineralic vanilla-almond accord forms a backdrop for the skanky white florals and reminds me of the way Bellodgia set a spicy carnation against a chewy marzipan stage curtain for maximum effect. Here the result is less powdery, more mineralic and far more modern than comparison to the old Caron perfume might imply.
The heartnotes blend into a listless olfactory image of vintage suntan lotion. The particular combo of solar florals and creamy woods actually suggest a whipped-smooth beige or khaki tone. The almond-vanilla accord reinforces the image with a matte sand or putty tint, but perfumer Andrier takes a page from Coco Chanel's book. What you notice in historical images of Chanel's collections is not the plainness of the color but the uncluttered design, the perfect drape of the fabrics, the impeccable tailoring. The difference between the perfect beige and dinginess is slim and the potentially dull ‘color palette’ of Une Amourette could have been its downfall.
Like Chanel, Andrier's manages to make the olfactory ‘color’ chic. She reassembles olfactory cues to shift from a beige hue to tanned skin, from flowers to sun tan lotion. The perfume’s easy finish and seamless transitions make it an effortless wear but don’t disguise the details. The floral accord's heavily indolic breathiness reinforces suntan lotion's implicit suggestion of parading flesh barely contained by swim trunks and bikinis. Andrier gives you skin and sun. Flirtation and exhibitionism. Skip Mouret's story of corruption and subversion. Just dig the potential of Andrier's suggestive scenario and fill in the rest for yourself.
(from scenthurdle.com)
I had just written some quick notes for myself that started with, "It’s a lovely, conservatively proportioned floriental. A contemporary take on a traditional genre." when I decided to take a peek at ELDO's take on Une Amourette. There designer Roland Mouret's is quoted: "Une Amourette is a no-holds-barred fragrance. It is not for everybody. It’s divisive. It will corrupt the fragrance category with its subversive positioning." Oh, for fuck's sake. Really?
Une Amourette isn't divisive or subversive in the least. But you know what? It's gorgeous. Forget corrupting categories and just dig the feel-goodness of Une Amourette--that's where this perfume hits its stride. A peppery citrus opening is the freshest, though not necessarily the brightest moment of the perfume. Matte, spicy, creamy-powdered florals illuminate the perfume from within and transfer their glow to your skin. A mineralic vanilla-almond accord forms a backdrop for the skanky white florals and reminds me of the way Bellodgia set a spicy carnation against a chewy marzipan stage curtain for maximum effect. Here the result is less powdery, more mineralic and far more modern than comparison to the old Caron perfume might imply.
The heartnotes blend into a listless olfactory image of vintage suntan lotion. The particular combo of solar florals and creamy woods actually suggest a whipped-smooth beige or khaki tone. The almond-vanilla accord reinforces the image with a matte sand or putty tint, but perfumer Andrier takes a page from Coco Chanel's book. What you notice in historical images of Chanel's collections is not the plainness of the color but the uncluttered design, the perfect drape of the fabrics, the impeccable tailoring. The difference between the perfect beige and dinginess is slim and the potentially dull ‘color palette’ of Une Amourette could have been its downfall.
Like Chanel, Andrier's manages to make the olfactory ‘color’ chic. She reassembles olfactory cues to shift from a beige hue to tanned skin, from flowers to sun tan lotion. The perfume’s easy finish and seamless transitions make it an effortless wear but don’t disguise the details. The floral accord's heavily indolic breathiness reinforces suntan lotion's implicit suggestion of parading flesh barely contained by swim trunks and bikinis. Andrier gives you skin and sun. Flirtation and exhibitionism. Skip Mouret's story of corruption and subversion. Just dig the potential of Andrier's suggestive scenario and fill in the rest for yourself.
(from scenthurdle.com)
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fantasy
Heliotrope might as well be a fictional plant for all I know. I don’t know what it looks like and I’ve never smelled it but I’m drawn to scents known for prominent heliotrope notes. I may not know the scent of the plant but I know the infamous notes: marzipan, cherry pie, spiced vanilla meringue, coconut-almond custard. The same specific set of descriptors are repeated so consistently that I imagine the plant’s scent must be very specific.
I can spot the descriptors. In monster perfumes like Loulou and Datura Noir but also in more delicate compositions like Ellena's l'Eau d'Hiver for Frédéric Malle and Kiss Me Tender. I totally dig Jour de Fete and l'Heure Bleue makes me weep. Also, I'm American, so I suppose both cherry pie and a tendency to self-deception are part of my psyche. All this to say, over the years, in my head I’ve come to believe that I know what heliotrope smells like when in fact, I don’t. It’s a false memory.
Actually, it’s not heliotrope that I have in my mind’s nose so much as heliotropin, the material used to create those gorgeous vintage orientals like Coty l'Origan and Guerlain Vol de Nuit and classic carnations like Caron Bellodgia. The first time I tried Etro Heliotrope it felt familiar, but just out of reach, like a misfiled memory. The recognition was instantaneous but understanding lagged with a drawn out, tip-of-my-tongue dissatisfaction. It was only when I re-spritzed a couple of hours later that I made the association between the perfume under my nose and the fantasy in my head. Is this the Proustian madeleine for this particular point in the 21st century? No transcendent moment, just a simple, satisfying connection? An itch scratched?
I suppose it’s a bit small for Proust and it’s not so much memory as a recognition of things imagined. Still it was informative to be confronted with the realization of what amounts to an olfactory hallucination. A little glimpse into how I make sense, or fiction, out of scent.
As for the perfume, it's all there---the pie, the meringue, the marzipan. But it has an unexpected confluence of textures and tones. It’s expansive and heady at the same time that it seems a little remote, like the scent is coming from further away than my wrist. The spiciness creates a bubbly quality as if the scent were carbonated but at the same time, there is a hint of play-doh and paste that creates a matte finish and an introverted impression.
I don’t think of Etro as a line that veers too far into experiments in abstraction but Heliotrope is actually sort of wild. It’s built from a bizarre combination of scents. It balances the high-pitched insecticide sting of cyanide almonds and the scent of stones in dried clay soil. Like eating marzipan pastries in a musty basement or root cellar.
Avant garde, vanguard, avant courier? Ground-breaking, rule-bending? Listen up, groovy indie brands. This dandy fashion house has stolen your lunch with simple creativity.
I can spot the descriptors. In monster perfumes like Loulou and Datura Noir but also in more delicate compositions like Ellena's l'Eau d'Hiver for Frédéric Malle and Kiss Me Tender. I totally dig Jour de Fete and l'Heure Bleue makes me weep. Also, I'm American, so I suppose both cherry pie and a tendency to self-deception are part of my psyche. All this to say, over the years, in my head I’ve come to believe that I know what heliotrope smells like when in fact, I don’t. It’s a false memory.
Actually, it’s not heliotrope that I have in my mind’s nose so much as heliotropin, the material used to create those gorgeous vintage orientals like Coty l'Origan and Guerlain Vol de Nuit and classic carnations like Caron Bellodgia. The first time I tried Etro Heliotrope it felt familiar, but just out of reach, like a misfiled memory. The recognition was instantaneous but understanding lagged with a drawn out, tip-of-my-tongue dissatisfaction. It was only when I re-spritzed a couple of hours later that I made the association between the perfume under my nose and the fantasy in my head. Is this the Proustian madeleine for this particular point in the 21st century? No transcendent moment, just a simple, satisfying connection? An itch scratched?
I suppose it’s a bit small for Proust and it’s not so much memory as a recognition of things imagined. Still it was informative to be confronted with the realization of what amounts to an olfactory hallucination. A little glimpse into how I make sense, or fiction, out of scent.
As for the perfume, it's all there---the pie, the meringue, the marzipan. But it has an unexpected confluence of textures and tones. It’s expansive and heady at the same time that it seems a little remote, like the scent is coming from further away than my wrist. The spiciness creates a bubbly quality as if the scent were carbonated but at the same time, there is a hint of play-doh and paste that creates a matte finish and an introverted impression.
I don’t think of Etro as a line that veers too far into experiments in abstraction but Heliotrope is actually sort of wild. It’s built from a bizarre combination of scents. It balances the high-pitched insecticide sting of cyanide almonds and the scent of stones in dried clay soil. Like eating marzipan pastries in a musty basement or root cellar.
Avant garde, vanguard, avant courier? Ground-breaking, rule-bending? Listen up, groovy indie brands. This dandy fashion house has stolen your lunch with simple creativity.
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The Good Thing's Here To Stay
I have this cologne for two years now, I remember I came across it and its brother Rich/Warm/Addictive an evening I was visiting ZARA store, the clerk was arranging those new releases on the shelf... He wasn't aware of how they did smell like and so we tested them together. Right of the bat, I/D/E was the one that impressed me most, yet R/W/A had that gourmand vibe that attracted me, so I bought both... and I fell in love with 'em.
Confronted with R/W/A, this one has the coolest, smoothest, and leathery tobacco leaves you ever smelt. A fruity fresh start, an aromatic heart, with tobacco, antiqued leather and silky suede blend in the drydown.
To begin with, I/D/E is classified as an aromatic oriental scent featuring notes of bergamot, apple, black pepper, mint, basil, tobacco, cashmere wood, and tonka bean, it got its name since it is an intense, warm, and elegant fragrance, with resinous, leathery, spicy, and woody accords. It is supposed to be for men, anyway, it could also be worn by women that appreciate it.
Initial spray is a little sharp, it starts off with a blast of apple and pepper, fruity and spicy, and a whiff of bergamot that lingers in the background. The opening has fruity and spicy touches from the green apple and black pepper which lead to the minty and balsamic heart. It's really vigorous with its boozy vibe, I do get a vodka-like note topped with a spritz of citrus and a bit of sugar syrup... Yet the strong alcoholic smell fades away pretty quick.
The heart has green, aromatic, and minty scented tones. The basil and mint notes appear after a while, and I get a metallic-like vibe that reminds me of Pure Havane, which hide an essence of warm, pleasant and cool feelings.
Slowly the deeply sweet and woody dry down introduces the warm tonka beans, which takes over, turning down the volume and warming up the atmosphere. The sweetness is enhanced by the impression of tobacco leaves, cashmere wood, and leather. Yes, I know it's not a listed note, but that's what I smell, the scent that does come across as quite dark. From there the scent is fairly linear, staying closer and closer to the skin as the time progress. I don't really mind that it does not seem to have a pronounced tobacco note. Notwithstanding, the tonka bean, mint, and bergamot combine for a deep scent that is dark, sweet and surprisingly fresh.
Projects great in the first 3 - 4 hours and then lasts closer to the skin up to 10h. Longevity is impressive, especially at this price point. I can still detect the scent after 6 - 8 hours, even the morning after if I press my nose onto the wrist and breath gently to warm the skin I feel it lingering around my nose. For this price, I think Intense-Dark-Exclusive is an absolute steal. I found this I/D/E is a sweet energetic tobacco scent that has a seductive vibe. I might say this fragrance is pretty different from the RWA because of its more fresh, masculine, and woody. Harsh opening in the first time but after a few minutes, it turns to be a calming sweet tobacco scent. It's just beautiful and not like a cheap fragrance at all. It is better to be used in cold seasons and is highly recommended for Tobacco scent collectors. Not for office or first dates, a night out and clubbing scent.
-Elysium
Confronted with R/W/A, this one has the coolest, smoothest, and leathery tobacco leaves you ever smelt. A fruity fresh start, an aromatic heart, with tobacco, antiqued leather and silky suede blend in the drydown.
To begin with, I/D/E is classified as an aromatic oriental scent featuring notes of bergamot, apple, black pepper, mint, basil, tobacco, cashmere wood, and tonka bean, it got its name since it is an intense, warm, and elegant fragrance, with resinous, leathery, spicy, and woody accords. It is supposed to be for men, anyway, it could also be worn by women that appreciate it.
Initial spray is a little sharp, it starts off with a blast of apple and pepper, fruity and spicy, and a whiff of bergamot that lingers in the background. The opening has fruity and spicy touches from the green apple and black pepper which lead to the minty and balsamic heart. It's really vigorous with its boozy vibe, I do get a vodka-like note topped with a spritz of citrus and a bit of sugar syrup... Yet the strong alcoholic smell fades away pretty quick.
The heart has green, aromatic, and minty scented tones. The basil and mint notes appear after a while, and I get a metallic-like vibe that reminds me of Pure Havane, which hide an essence of warm, pleasant and cool feelings.
Slowly the deeply sweet and woody dry down introduces the warm tonka beans, which takes over, turning down the volume and warming up the atmosphere. The sweetness is enhanced by the impression of tobacco leaves, cashmere wood, and leather. Yes, I know it's not a listed note, but that's what I smell, the scent that does come across as quite dark. From there the scent is fairly linear, staying closer and closer to the skin as the time progress. I don't really mind that it does not seem to have a pronounced tobacco note. Notwithstanding, the tonka bean, mint, and bergamot combine for a deep scent that is dark, sweet and surprisingly fresh.
Projects great in the first 3 - 4 hours and then lasts closer to the skin up to 10h. Longevity is impressive, especially at this price point. I can still detect the scent after 6 - 8 hours, even the morning after if I press my nose onto the wrist and breath gently to warm the skin I feel it lingering around my nose. For this price, I think Intense-Dark-Exclusive is an absolute steal. I found this I/D/E is a sweet energetic tobacco scent that has a seductive vibe. I might say this fragrance is pretty different from the RWA because of its more fresh, masculine, and woody. Harsh opening in the first time but after a few minutes, it turns to be a calming sweet tobacco scent. It's just beautiful and not like a cheap fragrance at all. It is better to be used in cold seasons and is highly recommended for Tobacco scent collectors. Not for office or first dates, a night out and clubbing scent.
-Elysium
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The Cliffs of Moher's Dewy and Mossy Smell
Voyage by Nautica was one of the first batches of fragrances I bought online when I started getting more and more into fragrances. This scent is not a trivial journey or voyage. It will take you on a trip to a faraway land, and it has this cold green grassland, lake, summer vibe to it.
Unconventionally fresh, like a cool and crisp ocean breeze but not salty nor aquatic. So damn impressive and unique, it expertly captures the spirit of the ocean. For the sake of clarity, Voyage does not smell like the ocean, but notes such as green leaves, lotus blossom, and musk blend so smoothly together you will want to ride a boat along the coast when you wear this.
It is incredibly watery smelling yet without any calone and is one of the most fabulous wet scents I've ever smelled after CK Truth for men. Noteworthy, Voyage is practically unknown in Europe, and I have never met anyone who wore it. So this scent is unique here.
Voyage has a bold, masculine smell featuring a fusion of dewy moss and woody amber. It opens with crispy notes of fresh-cut apple and fresh green leaves. The green apple is not so healthy, ain't similar to Boss Bottled as an example, instead the green leaves dominate the opening with an aroma closely similar to cucumber peel. The lack of citrus fruits in this stage is a bit uncommon, yet the resulting accord is so dewy, wet, and fresh and gives a pleasant summer feeling. To me, it's more aromatic and floral than aquatic, but the green notes add it a lush, natural aquatic tone. There is also a slight metallic accord ain't as powerful as in Azzaro Chrome.
The heart possesses what is described as the sailcloth accord, which features hemp, air, and deep aquatic aromas, fused with drenched mimosa and water lotus. Here it starts to get a slender soapiness which is not from the sailcloth accord but, from the blossoms. The lotus flower is known for its soapy and powdery freshness. The best thing about this is that the soapy quality isn't quiet; to me, it's even more robust than the opening of the fragrance.
The warm, woody base is soft, and blends notes of moss, cedarwood, amber, and musk, which is excellent cause most aquatics with wooden bases tend to go overboard with moss and woods. The woody and soapy accords would give this fragrance an after the rain vibe to me if you were on a beach after it stopped raining. That is what it would smell like.
Overall, Voyage is filed as fresh, and there are no critical spicy notes. Yet, it has a very smooth aquatic aroma that makes it perfect for summertime daily wear., with moderate longevity and projection. Finally, I would say it is ageless despite being targeted as a teen scent. Come on, and it's just an excellent aquatic scent. I feel legit pulling that stuff, and I'm 50 something. I have many summer bottles in my collection, and sometimes I go back to it.
Voyage is another example where "best" does not imply expensively. Instead, there is an excellent Inexpensive fragrance for men available in the market, which you pay very fewer bucks and get high value for it. Bear in mind, and I am using the reformulated bottle with the plastic cap, which is made with lots of synthetic ingredients. Well, big surprises, perfumes are artificial, but Nautica Voyage does an excellent job of being a pleasant, mild, aquatic fragrance.
-Elysium
Unconventionally fresh, like a cool and crisp ocean breeze but not salty nor aquatic. So damn impressive and unique, it expertly captures the spirit of the ocean. For the sake of clarity, Voyage does not smell like the ocean, but notes such as green leaves, lotus blossom, and musk blend so smoothly together you will want to ride a boat along the coast when you wear this.
It is incredibly watery smelling yet without any calone and is one of the most fabulous wet scents I've ever smelled after CK Truth for men. Noteworthy, Voyage is practically unknown in Europe, and I have never met anyone who wore it. So this scent is unique here.
Voyage has a bold, masculine smell featuring a fusion of dewy moss and woody amber. It opens with crispy notes of fresh-cut apple and fresh green leaves. The green apple is not so healthy, ain't similar to Boss Bottled as an example, instead the green leaves dominate the opening with an aroma closely similar to cucumber peel. The lack of citrus fruits in this stage is a bit uncommon, yet the resulting accord is so dewy, wet, and fresh and gives a pleasant summer feeling. To me, it's more aromatic and floral than aquatic, but the green notes add it a lush, natural aquatic tone. There is also a slight metallic accord ain't as powerful as in Azzaro Chrome.
The heart possesses what is described as the sailcloth accord, which features hemp, air, and deep aquatic aromas, fused with drenched mimosa and water lotus. Here it starts to get a slender soapiness which is not from the sailcloth accord but, from the blossoms. The lotus flower is known for its soapy and powdery freshness. The best thing about this is that the soapy quality isn't quiet; to me, it's even more robust than the opening of the fragrance.
The warm, woody base is soft, and blends notes of moss, cedarwood, amber, and musk, which is excellent cause most aquatics with wooden bases tend to go overboard with moss and woods. The woody and soapy accords would give this fragrance an after the rain vibe to me if you were on a beach after it stopped raining. That is what it would smell like.
Overall, Voyage is filed as fresh, and there are no critical spicy notes. Yet, it has a very smooth aquatic aroma that makes it perfect for summertime daily wear., with moderate longevity and projection. Finally, I would say it is ageless despite being targeted as a teen scent. Come on, and it's just an excellent aquatic scent. I feel legit pulling that stuff, and I'm 50 something. I have many summer bottles in my collection, and sometimes I go back to it.
Voyage is another example where "best" does not imply expensively. Instead, there is an excellent Inexpensive fragrance for men available in the market, which you pay very fewer bucks and get high value for it. Bear in mind, and I am using the reformulated bottle with the plastic cap, which is made with lots of synthetic ingredients. Well, big surprises, perfumes are artificial, but Nautica Voyage does an excellent job of being a pleasant, mild, aquatic fragrance.
-Elysium
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