Civet de Nuit is my first encounter with the house of Areej Le Doré, and I must say I’m thoroughly impressed. It’s a glorious use of natural civet, which can be intimidating to some, and whilst it is bold and animalic, it’s nowhere near unwearable - it just needs the right wearer. The civet is front and centre, obviously, with its intensely sharp and slightly urinous musky nature. I pick up this overwhelmingly thick, honeyed sweetness - like beeswax dripping with honey, which I’m assuming is coming from the jasmine. This is tempered by the dry, earthy facets of tobacco, leather and sandalwood. It’s a gorgeous fragrance, stunning and refined whilst feeling impressively unusual and exotic. Whilst I am thoroughly enjoying this, I feel like you are paying for the rarity of the materials more than anything. I’m not sure I could justify the price of this beauty.

Millesime Imperial is one of those fragrances you so badly want to dislike because of how simplistic and overtly overpriced it is, and yet there’s something brilliant about it; which is a common theme among many Creeds. It’s just such a straightforwardly gorgeous fruity marine scent done so well. The vague sweet fruitiness combined with an array of citrus pairs beautifully with this rush of a faded marine accord, as though you’re not standing by the sea but rather looking at it in the distance. There’s a slight saltiness, and that iconic creamy-fresh woodiness in the base of most Creed scents which we all know and love. As I said I don’t want to like this, the price is absurd for how simple and weak it is, and yet I know I’ll end up buying a bottle at some point because it’s just lovely. It’s not the best Creed by a long shot, but it just scratches that itch on a warm summer’s day.

I had such high hopes for Suède et Safran, but unfortunately I was only led to disappointment. To put it simply, this is a definite riff on Tuscan Leather, which I am getting so sick of smelling at this point. It’s not a bad scent, it’s just not a scent profile I enjoy at all. The ‘suede’ note is just the same leather accord used in the Tom Ford, but instead of that sickly raspberry to pair with it, you’ve got saffron; which to be honest is almost equally as annoyingly sweet and cloying. And that’s pretty much it, that’s the whole scent. For a house as great as Nishane I expected a lot better, and definitely wasn’t expecting what is essentially a glorified clone. If you enjoy Tuscan Leather, you’ll probably enjoy this too. But I don’t.

Patchouli Paris is Guerlain’s newest release and an interesting new member to their overtly expensive luxury lineup - does it belong? I’m not so sure. To clarify, it’s a very nice patchouli scent - but for the price, and from a house such as Guerlain, I expected a whole lot more. The patchouli is as you might expect, notably earthy and bitter, yet maintaining a soft creamy nature which highlights those chocolatey facets associated with the material. Very gentle touches of ambergris, Iris and aldehydes give the scent some lift, making it appear cleaner and more palatable. It’s a very simple scent, and if you’re looking for a good patchouli and nothing else - this could be a contender, although you could likely find better for less money. I like it, but I’m not impressed with it.

La Fille de Berlin or, ‘The Girl from Berlin’, is one of the most beautiful rose fragrances currently on the market in my humble opinion. However, it’s also a very simple scent - focusing entirely on the supple beauty of the rose flower, or a young girl of Berlin which you struggle to erase from your memory. The rose is bright and soapy, it epitomises the clean and sweet characteristics perfectly. It’s gorgeously clean and delicate, whilst remaining quite noticeably pulpy and stemmy. It doesn’t resemble the annoyingly cloying, jammy roses which you see quite often these days. It undeniably feels as though it was inspired by Guerlain’s Nahema, even if only loosely. A stunningly simplistic rose like this is a must have in everyone’s collection in my opinion, as a reference point of what a great rose scent is and can be, at the very least.

I’ve never been a fan of mint fragrances, it’s a note I very rarely get along with. If I’m being honest, Enclave is no different - if you like mint then it’s a good fragrance, but it’s not for me. It comes off too scratchy for me, there doesn’t seem to be much balance of refinement here. The mint is obviously the main player here, it’s sharp and refreshing, like toothpaste. The other big presence here is the Amber Xtreme, which unfortunately is responsible for that nasty scratchy aspect which I can’t ignore. There’s a hint of spices and pink pepper but the other notes struggle to make themselves known amongst the mint and Amber Xtreme. This simply isn’t a fragrance for me, which I sort of expected going into this because I already know I don’t like mint in perfume. But for those that do, it’s worth checking out. I don’t think it’s anything special though.

Interlude Black Iris was a fragrance I had always thoroughly enjoyed on a strip, but upon testing it on skin it feels like an entirely different scent - and not one I particularly enjoy. It unfortunately smells very flat and lifeless on my skin, which is a shame because I wanted to love this so badly. Orris is my favourite note of all time, and it’s in nice large doses here. Not only does it capture that powdery, creamy element but also the earthy, nutty nature which is elevated by the resins, leather and patchouli. The leather is far more dominant than I remember, but not in a particularly good way. That’s pretty much all I get; a slightly powdery orris, alongside sort of scratchy resins and leather. I feel deflated, I was so looking forward to giving this a proper test and was sure I’d adore it. It just goes to show how different things can smell in store, my final verdict is that this is painfully overrated and in fact, not a very good perfume at all. I will be taking this off my wishlist.

Mitsouko is already known and loved by pretty much everyone, it is simply a triumph of ingenuity in the perfume industry - the real definition of masterpiece. I’m writing this review whilst sampling a decant from a 1990s EDT bottle, and I’m in love. Oakmoss of course leads the way, which is intensely green and creamy in its overdose. Bright, hesperidic facets from citrus notes give the scent a lot of lift, whilst it indulges into the creamy facets with that impeccable peachy C14 aldehyde. The powdery florals and warm spices are more noticeable here than the current formulation, which is more just focused on trying to recreate that oakmoss accord to the best of their ability. No words can describe the mastery behind this magnificent beauty, having the privilege to sample this from a time before IFRA butchered the use of its most important note, is surreal. I have to secure a bottle of this if I am to continue living on this earth.

Oud Cologne is the marriage of two nouns you don’t typically hear being used together, this is only the second scent I’ve tried from Bortnikoff, but I’m really enjoying it. It definitely is focused more on the ‘Cologne’ aspect rather than the oud, which I don’t get much of at all to be honest. However despite that, it’s lovely. A gorgeously natural smelling cocktail of bitter, rindy citrus fruits including orange, grapefruit and bergamot lead the way - it’s as if the real thing is right in front of your nose. Juniper and pine give it this beautiful green, aromatic, almost gin-like accord, complemented by the salty facets of ambergris and geranium. As I said I don’t really get any oud from this, which isn’t a bad thing, just misleading. As citrus fragrances go, this is absolutely stunning - truly a fantastic offering for the warmer weather when you need refreshing, but I’m not sure I’d want to spend that much money on a citrus scent.