My co worker walked into our large open plan office this morning and immediately exclaimed ‘it stinks in here’. These molecules like to travel. I like the frag. It’s a bit sweaty, like giving your brother a hug and realising he hasn’t showered yet. But yeah, he’s your bro and you love him, so it’s ok. Max two squirts for the office. Definitely not four, ok? Bye Follow me on Instagram: @TheScentiest
I love the image of a surly Cellier with a gauloises hanging out of her mouth muttering French swears at an industry dominated by men. It’s through the interaction with Cellierphiles that I have this impression of her, could be inaccurate though. I mean I’m not the biggest fan of Bandit but I can appreciate it, I love another she did for Balmain Vent Vert and have a reasonably old 60’s vintage which is still fantastic and twangs with greenery. So I was told I should try this and was very kindly supplied with another pretty ancient vintage to try and boy oh boy this a brilliant perfume. It smells like the wafted beauty of violet, kindly powdery but definitely has colder qualities of violet leaf, which is a really strange smell in truth. A complex green, dry mixture of irone and ionone. This is all against a completely not pretty, not buttery and totally not elegant leather. It’s almost modern in a weird way and yet this perfume proabably smelled as dated today as it does when it came out. I mean dated in a good way, aged but not lacking a certain vibrancy. Yeah it’s a kind of powdery, enigmatic statement, warm, and just the right amount of everything going on for me, musks and all of a sudden all that dryness is some how epically punctuated by lush, floral Narcissus or more a purple feel, maybe bluebells or nearly to the point of hyacinth. I’m completely smitten with it. The topnotes which I could tell were citrus had lost a little of their lustre but when you’re in your twilight years you don’t expect everything to work perfectly right? Another thing that really prompted me to try this classic perfume was Miguel Matos and his tribute to Cellier, Germaine. Which I have to say smells very different to this. I still enjoyed Germaine and you could say Citrus, violet, violet leaf, leather how different could it be? Well quite different is the answer but a jolly good nod in the direction of this perfume. I completely adore Jolie Madame and it’s about as suitable for a man you could hope for, especially as a perfume with Madame in the title.
Undergrowth is by far my favourite of the three I tried. I’ll get the critique out of the way to start off, I feel the same about this as Forrest it’s not a perfume in the sense that I want a perfume to be...well...perfumey! It’s a scent Aurora, a smell, indeed evocative of undergrowth without being too witchy or madly Indy. But that might just be where it misses a trick? If I was ever to represent ‘undergrowth’ the almost literal definition to me would be a mushroom accord or note. There’s loads of materials that possess these qualities such as geosmin or Ethyl fenchol. However, the stuff I like is the cliche free delivery of common and recognisable materials but rendered in such a lovely way. The patchouli is prominent but it doesn’t have that soil trope, it’s been manipulated and softened, rounded. The opening is minty but not to the point of some toothpaste, or peppermint which would seem out of place. This is very delicately placed atop the woody, greenery of the body of undergrowth. Slightly menthol, a hint of eucalyptus, a sparingly use white camphor on that body of patchouli. So apparently there’s a lot of naturals in this and it shows, the vetiver is not overt or smokey but is probably thickening and supporting that patchouli. I say thick but it’s remarkably light this one. I’ve extracted as much perfume stuff as I can out of what is another collection of woody and green materials. Perhaps I’m being unfair and expecting too much? Not every fragrance should have a diverse spread of notes and accords, and to Rooks credit, nothing jars and everything goes together in its right place. I’m being over Critical of a fragrance I fundamentally like and enjoyed. I still wouldn’t buy it though.
Forrest is nice. Pine, cypress and spruce, heavier Virginian cedar perhaps create a kind of floaty Forrest air. Which is as much about olibanum as anything else to me. It’s fresh, woody, it’s lovely. However, is it perfume? I say that with the greatest respect, but I’m not sure of the answer? I think it’s more of a smell than anything else. An aurora I want perfume to have interest, distinct phases and notes. The name would suggest that it has met its Brief and it’s supposed to be a collection of woody, resin materials conspiring to conjure a Forrest and it does that. You can’t overtly smell modern fixative trickery or Iso e super or anything, although I don’t doubt it’s probably there. The sharpness of citrus and pine gives way to a cerebral Lemony Elemi and Frankincense lasting fairly well on my skin. I can’t knock it really, doesn’t excite me though.
Whoever thought for a moment that this smelled anything remotely like Fall into Stars, clearly has a vastly different sense of smell to mine. No offence but Nadeem’s skills are in no way comparable to Christophe’s and even if they were these two perfumes are at completely different ends of a spectrum. That’s not to say that I don’t like it, Rook’s signature has notable complexity, opening with a strong but well managed birch tar note, effectively acting as a kind of smokey top note, which gradually fades as a kind of deep, soapy, gentlemen’s leather emerges. It evolves throughout the wearing, and lasts forever on skin but I wouldn’t say Rook is intrusive. It feels accomplished but suitably dense, Indy and rustic, quite strange in actuality. It’s hard to describe because it’s muddled, and that’s not a good adjective to use about a perfumers work. I wouldn’t wear it and therefore it’s not a success in my book. Clearly there’s some quality here and reasonably good value along with strong branding, interesting packaging. I think there’s good things to come from Rook, but the three I tried didn’t excite me particularly.
Completing the set is this... a fruity rose perfume. Not a concept I don’t like, a tried and tested combination, which means it has to very very good to standout. There’s enough flair and talent in the industry to create rose perfumes which are doing something different, this from Cra-yon is not one of them. If I compare to recent examples of roses that did something else I’d have to site Chronotope’s Spite or Meditorossa’s Talento. I just don’t like this, jammy jammy sweet rose, plastic thin, reminiscent of red cellophane, no real depth, but powerfully in your face! I mean to the point of screaming at you. The fruitiness goes hand in hand with a musky, rose, red berry, raspberry/strawberry tone. It’s fine I suppose if this is what you want and plenty of people maybe do, but I question it’s existence even moreso than the tiresome catalog of Montale fragrances which seem to have an audience whereas this new brand is trying to establish one based on absolutely nothing of value or originality. I’m being particularly and unusually harsh for me, but I just don’t see the point in this brands existence? I’m not someone who is ‘all about the juice.’ (...Man!) I see that there’s more to perfume than that and perhaps have not come dow so hard on other new fangled brands that seem to place more importance on social media presence, marketing and brand image. I don’t doubt the importance of these things but if the fragrances are very cookie cutter, then perfumistas worth their salt will see through it and demand more. Like I said in a previous review if even one of these hand been slightly ‘brave’ even if it was awful I might not have been so critical.
CEO is a curious choice of title don’t you think? This from a brand that seems to promote a kind of trendy, sustainable, socially conscious vibe with the Vegan and genderless proclamations plastered on the packaging. I suppose you can be a good CEO not a elite bastard shitting on the little guy, but there you go. Anyway... this is a boring vanilla to me. Opens fairly nicely, clearly sweet with vanillin and a light floral accord developing, but hey come on, it’s crushingly uninspired. I think in its defence it reminded me of something from the Vanille collection from Sylvanne Delacourte which is actually not much of a defence as I found them pretty uninspiring despite the Guerlain connection. Cloying after a short time and I really didn’t enjoy wearing it. Sorry. It’s not just because I’m some woody, natural vanilla absolute snob or something, I like plenty of more modest vanillas just not this one.
Okay so I’m going to try not to slag this brand off with as much vitriolic, distain as I did on Instagram but the three fragrances from Cra-yon seem fairly pointless to me, in terms of creativity or breaking new ground and beg the question, why bother? Why bother creating a brand that doesn’t excite or innovate or even show a glimmer of anything new? I’m not being nasty it’s just a genuine question and observation. In a crowded marketplace how does this brand stand out? To me it doesn’t. It’s all Marketing and slick logos and packaging with zero substance behind it, the fragrances seem to have been plucked off the shelf at a fragrance laboratory, we’ll have a Sandalwood one (this one) a rose and a vanilla. All simple concepts and good starting points, and even if one of them was good, that would completely change my view of the brand, so it really doesn’t take much for me to give the benefit of the doubt but all three are complete cookie cutter A to B to C. It’s limp. Lifeless. There just Feels like there’s no passion in this product and when you’ve seen lots of brands come and go you kinda get a feel for what is and what isn’t a labour of love. This isn’t bad as such, it smells like a subpar Santal 33 by Le Labo, which is definitely intentional given what I assume is Cra-yon’s woke, urban, hipsterite, target demographic. So not only lack lustre but likely a deliberate clone. See the problem is I don’t like Santal 33 anyway, the watery strangeness of a papyrus opening, the top note on sandalwood is very unsettling to me and smells plain odd. It’s intriguing though, despite not enjoying or wanting to wear, and this doesn’t even have the rewarding, nutty Santal drydown of its inspiration. Sorry Cra-yon I’m not buying it, but clearly someone is and you’re making it work in a crowded marketplace. Contrary to my usual complaint of new brands launching with 12-14 fragrances in a line and then feeling they have to release a new one every three months to stay fresh, relevant, being promoted by influencers, staying visible as a brand and keeping up with other houses output etc... I like brands that don’t play that game and Cra yon’s focus on 3 to start is a good idea. However, had they released more odds are better for getting one that I liked and maybe that would’ve changed the whole complexion of this review slightly...I dunno?
I think it’s suffered from some weird expectations. People are likely to enthuse over a new Roja. Especially an affordable one like this. First batch was limited to 100 bottles and so it sold out quickly. It all adds to the hype. And then a load of people sold their bottles and the hype bubble was burst. So what’s going on? Well nothing really. I think this is a very nice fragrance. Citrus and mint with a woody sweet mossy base. Decent longevity. It wears a little close but that’s fine. It smells nice. It’s a bit out of type for Roja. We are used to the big Chypres and animalics, the ouds, leathers and other more challenging scents. So it’s a little unexpected but that doesn’t change the fact it smells great. For me - I’ve got lots in this space already so not certain I need it in my life but if you’ve got a gap for a nice citrus and mint fragrance this will do just lovely.
Alain Delon Iquitos is a weird combination of rose, clean bubbly aldehydes (soapy smells) and dirty animalic stuff. It’s revered as a classic. But to be honest it smells horrendous to me. It’s so brutal and jarring in its use of clean and dirty together that it doesn’t work at all. Think of it like this: a seriously sex dependent lothario takes a short break from sex for a moment to wash himself with his grandmothers best rose soap. He doesn’t change his clothes. That’s what this smells like. It might appeal to some but for me this is a hard pass. Sorry. Not sorry.
In the interests of total transparency Carter very kindly sent these samples to me (I was intending to support the project anyhow) he’s nice like that and he knows full well that my views, however insignificant, will be honest and forthright, and if I don’t like something or think it’s objectively or technically lacking (again if you believe I qualified to comment) then I will say so. I think he invites the critique and probably relishes it, I know I would. I’ll just start by saying all three exhibit a really attuned skill for a self taught perfumer and someone who I find to have a really interesting perspective on lots of things, not least on the art of perfumery and perhaps some notion of what it should represent. I wish I painted pictures with my words and got all poetic about these scents because they deserve it, but my reviews are usually relentlessly boring fixation with materials and ‘how did they do that?’ Sort of musings. So Playlinda to me the most compelling & perhaps the most comforting blurb explaining its origins and inspiration. I think it’s the most ‘commercial’ (that sounds terrible) but it’s more accessible one for folks I reckon, but completely free from Cliche as I’ve smelled nothing even remotely like it. The opening is like a somewhat fatty, lactonic, yellow floral. Playlinda is a seaside scent but it’s not obviously so, warm skin, even that ambergris effect of saliva on skin but not in a sultry or salacious way. It’s reassuring. It threatens a hint of coconut or shay butter for a moment but completely subverts that feeling with dusty, sandy, salty fruit vibes, and cozy musk. Peach is supposed to be the big playa (lol) in here but the fruity accord doesn’t immediately scream it to me, and that’s not a sign of failure because I’ve seen plenty of reviews mentioning it vividly, so what do I know. I haven’t spent enough time with Playalinda, but I felt it necessary to give my first impressions here. It’s very good, and just shows the effort that goes into an Indy perfume to create real art, that has a truly personal narrative. You don’t need to be told that it’s deeply personal, you can smell it.
So I’ve smelled Ruth’s creations for other brands and I was intrigued to see what her own brand would be like and boy oh boy is this line special. I’ve only tried three so far but they are all show stoppers! Massively rich and complex compositions, not elegant or singular focused stuff you might create for a brand (a rose one, a leather one etc etc..) with a brief but rather truly artistic, statement pieces to showcase what an excellent perfumer Ruth clearly is. Signature to me opens with a saffron like twang, heavy, heady but strangely plastic and elastic, spiked with exotic fruits and cassis. It actually smells quite sharp and resinous like artificial Oud base, but nothing specific like ahhh that’s black agar or Firmenich, Oud bois or whatever. This is perhaps just materials conspiring to make something very complex, which is basically what a synthetic ‘Oud’ base or accord consists of. Broadly masculine I’d say and it’s initial strength and boldness is very captivating and I’d suggest highly appealing to folks who like modern fragrances that bang hard particularly in the opening. Something about this line reminds me of the brilliant Christophe Laudamiel and his work with Strangelove, perhaps these are less obviously built on amazing natural raw materials, but something about the feel and complexity is similar. A massive endorsement.
So it’s been a while since I’ve recoiled in horror at the opening of a fragrance. I mean (Versace) Eros is bad enough but his tears fucking stink! 🤣 No in fairness the challenge of this scent is something I relish and tears of Eros is a massive challenge but already as it’s settling, it’s twinkling facets of jade greens and turquoise blues are really starting to elicit a more positive response, this gets better and better as it dries down. There’s a huge, wet floral note of hyacinth, I mean it’s not even that element which is unpleasant, but usually in isolation not my favourite thing. I think it’s just the opening is such a concentrated mass of ‘stuff’ brutalising your nostrils, I mean I grimaced 😬 I actually grimaced 😬. It’s metallic, resinous (galbanum or Angelica perhaps?) ozonic, it’s more than breeze or seaside this is not at the ‘side’ it’s a Mariana Trench, marine depth charge of a thing! I think it’s absolutely inspired! Hugely memorable anyway. Tears of Eros is not my scene but I can get off on occasion to stuff like this because it’s such bold, unique, perfumery. Something about the style of the drydown reminds me a touch of French Lover and that’s a very positive association indeed. I can’t believe the flip flop from, intrusive, and atrocious opening to something very nice indeed when settled, just goes to show you shouldn’t judge a perfume too quickly and harshly, I kinda had a funny feeling in my waters that it was going to get better. I’d say, of the three I’ve tried so far ...this one is probably my favourite just due to the sheer artistry can’t wait to wear it properly. UPDATE 09/06/21 Can I just say that when talking to people who asked me what where the highlights of my 2020, I say 'Tears of Eros' I CAN'T STOP THINKIING ABOUT IT. I really can't, and yet everything I said above is accurate. It's one of the most interesting works I've smelled in a long time, it's a pure piece of olfactory art. I described it recently as 'Heavy metal Hyacinths' and that's pretty accurate, If I bought a bottle I'm not sure if there would ever be an occasion suitable? Perhaps if Iron Maiden started doing gigs at the botanical gardens or something? Paul deserves massive credit for this and his line in general, it's really hard for an indy perfume to balance polish and really wacky new ideas but he seems to strike a really good balance.
People voting it down because it's a Pride version. 🤦♂️
Does anyone know if this smells like Halfeti Cedar? It has similar notes...
This is quite simply what people expect from a neroli fragrance, waxy, fresh in the vein of 4711 or Neroli Portofino (which although later) is the staple of this genre and is an actual neroli fragrance in that sense rather than a cologne. My experience of natural neroli materials is anything from a greener, truly unique smell to a hardware store or recently painted wall, rather than the fatty, white floral accord so indicative of ‘neroli’ based perfumes, but I digress. The opening of this is a stunning, If slightly short lived zing, with the natural metallic quality of petitgrain joining it and immediately fresh with the ripe, creamy, white floral accord. It’s a beautiful thing and although the initial zing is short lived, the citrus and white floral combo is perfect for extending and boosting the citrus aspect and for me rivals the power of a neroli Portofino for example but has a much classier, classic cologne delivery. It’s more of a Floris or M&W 4711 type fragrance and just in between as the citrus settles into more floral dominance there’s hints of basil type herbs maybe a bay leaf or a touch of spice? It’s carefully made and well executed perfumery. The bottles from this brand are simple but elegant, the price is great, I can’t fault them other than to say that this is slightly more dominant with neroli than suits my tastes but occasionally I will rock this and enjoy it. On a hot day you could do a lot worse than cooling off wearing some of this. Highly recommended.
Right here’s the lowdown. Having owned Terrarossa for a couple of years now, and being made aware of this brand by my pal Dana (the brilliant A nose knows) I’ve been tempted to get the others for a while and I’m not disappointed with this blind buy. Here is a true first impression of this fragrance, immediately sweet orange top, cascades down into a gourmand, so it’s a chocolate orange, great combination but hard to pull off. (For a novice like me, because I’ve tried) The reason it works here is because it’s not too sweet and has evolved into a fatty, creamy lactonic orange orange blossom when dried down. The main thing I took away from this was (bearing in mind I just said it wasn’t too sweet) a mildly inflected, bubblegum note. This is not the crappy saccharine note of cheesy men’s designers of late, it smells of Jasmine or tuberose in that natural, slightly bananary sense. Dries down much more vanilla and similar to a million femme marketed fruity vanillas, but maintains a nice chocolate/benzoin right to the death. I think when you look at this as a whole, from unique start to somewhat predictable finish, it still has a huge amount of merit, I mean I’d wear this, and will of course, being a rare fragrance of this type that I actually like, opening with such an interesting and well constructed flourish as it does. Do I love it? No. I like it though. It’s nothing like Serge Lutens Fleurs d’oranger BTW except for an orange blossom note/accord in here.
A stronger, longer lasting, deeper version of the EDP. I find it very similar.
It’s not for everyone. It smells like I’d imagine a dental surgery on a spaceship. All very hard and sharp metallic edges. There’s an apple note but it’s a futuristic apple. Not made of fruit. It’s made of aluminium. Which I guess is why we need the dental surgery. Long lasting. Durable. Metallic. Sometimes I catch a whiff of it in the air and think it's delicious, and then I find the metal again. And it's obnoxious. This is a marmite fragrance. And I still can't decide if I love it or hate it. It's about 97% hate. But just maybe I could love it. Which makes no sense. Good day.
Slightly nutty amber for me. Huge performance. Beautifully executed. Reminds me slightly of Xerjoff Amber Star. Others will disagree.
I’m not amazing at recognising notes. In fact I’m quite poor at it. Maybe better than your average muggle but certainly it’s not my super power. I particularly struggle with differentiating herbal notes. So as soon as I smelled this I was pretty pleased with myself as the tarragon note was so obvious. It’s got a herbal greenness to it but also an almost aniseed note. It’s unmistakable. It immediately conjures up memories of cooking with my mum when I was a kid and using tarragon. Of course tarragon isn’t listed. So much for my self congratulation. But whatever. To me this is a citrus and tarragon fragrance. Verging on aniseed. It’s very polite and dries down to a pleasant ambergris and earthy vetiver base. Very very classy as you’d expect from Guerlain. Not beast mode. But ideal summer wears
Very honoured to be the first entry on this perfume because Chenoir is absolutely fantastic! It’s a valuable lesson In understatement for Indy perfumers who seem to insist on this murky, witchy, brew approach whereas Amanda thinks in structure and simple accords, coming together to make far more than the sum of their parts. This is basically a transparent, herbal, green fragrance with an old meets new Chypre sensibility. The bergamot and oakmoss providing the classic elements delicate, flora muguet and modern woods in the base providing the modernised contemporary elements. There’s a light resinous warmth in this too. The lasting impression is made by the oakmoss and far from being an oakmoss fragrance I’d say if you really want to smell something which unashamedly places it at the centre of the composition, then I can honestly say you’d be hard pressed to find anything better? Certainly not from an Indy perfumer, these days. I love Chenoir it’s fantastically fresh and wearable, but interesting and truly like nothing else out there. The price is fantastic for the quality and I get to support a UK perfumer. This deserved the Golden pear. Just get it! You will not regret it.
Wanted this for so long, finally got it in time for the Summer, which it doesn't really seem people's recommended time to wear it. The thing is, I'm not totally sold on the seasonality of perfumes, all the more because I think this is the type of scent that blooms with the heat, since I've caught it smelling kinda sweaty on me (and right after a shower, so I know it wasn't really me). Obviously it's "sweaty" in a nice way. Well, not really nice, it's sort of dirty actually, it's the slutty vibe the perfume is supposed to have. But it's not a constant feature, and possibly the temperature helps it develop this way. So to the people missing this facet my suggestion is spritz it during a hot and humid day and see if anything changes. Curious as to know if it changes during the colder months and becomes a tame(r) powdery floral.
Okay so...it's official...Salome is my favourite perfume from this brand. I had to make sure, when Liz announced Bengale rouge I was about to purchase Salome but then thought I wait to see what it was all about. Which was fine but BR couldn't knock the crown off Salome. It opens with a cumin leather infused, smooth, mildly vegetal remiscent of raw, leathery, castoreum tempered by more rounded orris butter or somethin? This is reinforced later with dry Ionone smells later on. The main effect which points to classic oriental/chypre hybrid a la the late, great Mr Guy Robert is the contrast of clearly animalic undertones with powdery florals. On top a gentle but firm, carnation accord blooms, a little powdered but not really, the whole effect is quite masculine. It was on me at least and I said this of Salome if a man wore it I'd likely gesture to him in some blokey acknowledgement of his keen interest in very finely made, classic perfumery. If it was a woman I'd likely be begging at her stilettoed heel, like some submissive dog/manslave! The animalic nature giving Salome a mildly sexy charge. I'll say this though, it's full bodied and uncompromising and yet I find it a total pussycat and carefully applied it's so very pleasant and polite. The animalics in here are clearly handled with a very deft touch and Liz is in her element making these creations which nod at vintage perfumes, all in a genre of their own. Some Indy perfumers use animalics in a very hamfisted way, banging a load a civet replacer in and calling that an animalic accord when for me it lacks nuance and sinks like a stone to the bottom of the composition only to languish and likely still be detected on your skin days later. (to be fair you can smell Salome the next day) No doubt Salome probably uses Civet replacer but the overall musks seem to have been carefully woven and blended into the very fabric of what Salome is. It's muscanone, mallow warm, sweet musks and the more authentic, deer, pissy animalic shangrilide and animalis type too but perfectly balanced. I think it's completely mesmerising stuff. It's artistry isn't something to be broken down in the kinda tedious, armchair way I pluck and poke at possible materials used. Just wear it and revel in it. Superb.
