Parfums De Nicolai New York

New York is one of those perfumes that has a huge following on Basenotes in particular. I hate to be negative in a review, but I'm going to be honest, front up, and admit from the start that I have really struggled to appreciate New York, despite sampling it a number of times. The notes include bergamot, sicilian lemon, cloves, thyme, cinnamon, black pepper, pimento, oakmoss, vetiver and amber. 

On my skin, New York opens with what I perceive as a cloying, sweet lavender, paired with an equally cloying, creamy-sweet citrus note. And powder. Lots of it. I really struggle to get past this stage, the worst of the whole development. It takes all my willpower not to rush to the bathroom and wash it off, so bad is it. Now I realise there are a lot of people out there who love New York, but with all the best intentions, I am not one of them. This perfume literally generates a sensation of nausea as I smell it. I kid you not. I can feel the bile rising. I think the worst thing about New York is that powdery note, which is almost choking in its intensity. It isn't baby powder per se, but a weird, cough-inducing note that makes me want to gag and sneeze. I wonder if this isn't a case of me being allergic to some ingredient that Nicolai uses, because the other masculine, Nicolai Pour Homme, causes a similar sensation for me.

To be fair, as the fragrance develops, it does become easier for me to wear this, and as the powder tones down and the base of oakmoss and vetiver emerges, I can tolerate New York, but I still don't like it. I feel really bad criticising a perfume so strongly, and I suspect it might be just me and my skin chemistry. I wouldn't encourage you to avoid New York though. In fact, I would love to hear if any of you have tried it, and whether you suffer the same reaction to it as me. The final comment is courtesy of my wife, who when presented with my wrist, said that it smelled fuddy-duddy, and granny-ish. 

Image credit - luckyscent.com

L'Artisan Timbuktu

Timbuktu is one of my favourites in L'Artisan's lineup. Created by Bertand Duchaufour, it is meant to be inspired by a trip to Mali in West Africa and contains notes of green mango, pink pepper berries, cardamon, karo karounde flower, smoky incense of papyrus wood, patchouli, myrrh and vetiver. For some reason, Timbuktu reminds me not of West Africa, but of some high, cold and desolate plateau such as what might be encountered in Tibet. Now don't ask me why - I haven't travelled to either of these areas, so am in no position to judge, but that is the image and sensation conjured up for me by this fragrance. I think what I am trying to say is that the incense I smell (and this is mostly about incense) is not aromatically smoky and heavy, but clean and contemplative. And it is this combination of senses that takes me to Asia rather than Africa. The smell of Timbuktu, if I could present it pictorially, is of white smoke, wafting in on a dry, cold wind, high above a windswept plain. Underpinning this incense is a dry woods smell, none of that cliched cedar accord, but quite clean, which I presume is the mixture of pink pepper and papyrus. There is a background sweetness though, more fruity than gourmand. Actually, thinking about it, it is a fruity tang and I realise that this is the green mango, with a bit of vetiver. I would never have expected mango to work with the incense, but for some reason it does here.

Although this has little relevance to the review, to my mind if Jean Claude Ellena was going to do incense, this is the style he would choose to convey its facets - clean, delineated, uncluttered, even contemplative in its relative simplicity. Of course, it is Duchaufour who has done it and very well indeed. Although L'Artisan is not renowned for the lasting power of its perfumes, Timbuktu lasts very well indeed, without being intrusive. If you are an incense fan, I would recommend trying Timbuktu if you haven't already, particularly as it doesn't smell like anything else, and doesn't go down that usual gothic incense route.

Image credit - luckyscent.com

It's the journey that matters

I mentioned quite recently that I had purchased two full bottles of Guerlain L'instant and Gucci Pour Homme. This is something that I seldom do. I don't own a lot of full bottles, concentrating mostly on samples, as my almost unquenchable thirst for learning about, and experiencing, perfume continues. However, I must say that having worn these two almost constantly for about two weeks (not simultaneously) I've quite enjoyed taking a break from the samples and simply wearing these perfumes and enjoying them for what they are, rather than moving swiftly onto the next 'big thing'. What I've found most illuminating is just how different these two perfumes have smelled each day, particularly the L'Instant. On some days it has been all about cocoa, patchouli and vanilla while at other times I've been struck by just how floral it can smell, particularly in the opening and heart. One thing that is relatively constant is the end-result vanilla, a Guerlain trademark. Not that L'Instant has much of that classic Guerlainade to me.

As much as I'm enjoying wearing just two perfumes, I know I will return to sampling quite soon. I still have too much to learn to stop now and I can't tread water for long. Perhaps that is just my slightly impulsive and restless nature sometimes!

Too tired to wear perfume

I've been extremely busy at work recently, working long hours to meet deadlines and the stress is making me tired. I'm not expecting sympathy - most of us go through periods like this from time to time and it's a consequence in part of modern day life. 

What often surprises me though is how seldom I am inclined to wear perfume when I am tired, stressed and overworked. It's not a time issue. After all, it only takes moments to pick up a bottle and spray or dab. However, I have an aversion to wearing something nice that might be ruined by my mood or state of mind. Ironically, the fragrances that might most be expected to provide me with comfort are the ones I am most likely to avoid in these situations.

Am I weird, or do any of you, dear readers, ever feel the same way? I know a lot of perfume lovers turn to their comfort scents when under pressure, or feeling down, or whatever. Me, I'm the opposite. Now, lets hope things calm down - I need to wear more perfume!

Musk I ask what she is wearing?

This might strike some as a slightly strange post. I'm going to confess that a lady at work has been driving me crazy and that I'm attracted to her scent. Now, before you wonder what naughty stuff I might be contemplating, let me say unequivocally that I am not a letch. I don't fancy her at all, although she is by no means unattractive and she is a perfectly nice person. Rather, she wears a perfume that just drives me bonkers, to the point of distraction, frankly. I can't quite explain it. I am not usually a person who is that interested by what other people smell like, or what perfume they are wearing. Nor do I wear perfume to smell good and to attract other people. Ok, I do like to smell good, but fragrance for me is very much a personal journey and about self-gratification. I won't lie - on the odd occasion that I've received a compliment about a fragrance I'm wearing, it has pleased me, but it is definitely not my primary reason for wearing perfume.

Getting back to my work colleague then. She wears a musky perfume. That's all I can say really. I have no clue what it is. It isn't a skanky musk fragrance per se, but at the same time it is more than just a clean skin scent. Musk does often recall the scent of skin, which is maybe part of it's allure, but this is no Muscs Koublai Khan. It is at once both quite flowery and yet intensely musky, and on her it smells paradoxically clean and yet surreptitiously dirty, in a good way. As you may have guessed from the title of this post, I am itching to ask her what she is wearing, and yet in a way, I quite like not knowing, and enjoy musing over what it might be. Yes, no one ever said I was totally normal!

What I find quite interesting about this is that in the past I have never quite believed all the guff about perfume and its power of attraction, sexual or otherwise. Yet, I can't deny that smelling the trail from my colleague I can't quite help but feel slightly attracted to her, albeit from afar and in a relatively platonic way. However, I know that she is not my type at all (besides the fact that I am very happily married and quite content to keep it that way) so I can't help but come to the realisation that actually, perfume does have that power of sexual and other attraction. Having said that, I wonder if it is specifically musk that does this to me, or would a certain woman, with a certain skin chemistry, wearing iris, for example, generate the same response from me?

So, have any of you ever experienced what I have, whether it be at work, socially, or whatever? Do you believe in the power of perfume, its sexual allure? Is it purely the perfume at work, or at some more subliminal level, is it actually the woman (or man) that is the attractant?

Image credit - pheromones.ph

Dolce & Gabbana The One Gentleman

I've known of The One Gentleman for some time now, but some reason it only reached my local department stores fairly recently. I remember trying the original The One and thinking that it was ok, but not particularly remarkable. In a bland selection of mainstream offerings, it stood up quite well. For some reason I had a preconceived idea that this flanker would be  rubbish. I don't know why,  just did. As it turns out, the One Gentleman is actually surprisingly good. I've tried it a few times now and like its gentle combination of lightly spiced woods. The listed notes I've seen include pepper, grapefruit, lavender, fennel, cardamom, vanilla and patchouli, but my nose seems to detect an undercurrent of slightly buzzy ginger, with cardamom and sandalwood. I must be wrong, but I'll stick with what I perceive as a good rendition of ginger and slightly comforting spice and woods. The patchouli doesn't shout out either, but is quite subdued, but quite nicely done. The One Gentleman is not forceful, but quite understated. I like it. It's classified as an oriental fougere, and for once, I can make this connection. Is it brilliant? Well, as ever, this is partly a matter of taste. I like it, but am not necessarily doing ecstatic backflips over it. Having said that, in an increasingly bland and benign masculine perfume world, where consumer-focus groups seem more important than the actual products being released, The One Gentleman stands out as at least having some backbone and individuality, at least in my opinion.

Parfums MDCI - Enlevement au Serail

Enlevement au Serail was created by Francis Kurkdjian, originally called FK3. The notes include bergamot, mandarin, ylang-ylang, jasmine sambac, tuberose, rose, wallflower, patchouli, sandalwood, vanilla and vetiver. 

This is a perfume that got me thinking. It is cerebral and hard to describe. Even as I write this I can't quite get my head around it. Styled as a chypre, not my favourite genre, it starts out very feminine and immediately follows what to my nose is a classic chypre structure. The opening is very aldehydic, with florals and a delicate peachiness that recalls Mitsouko. It's not as dark, and a bit sweeter, lacking that 'biscuit' like accord I find in the Guerlain. It's certainly nice, although I do find it on the more feminine side of what I prefer to wear.

As the opening fades, I was startled by a tuberose note that comes to the fore. At this stage I had no idea what the perfume notes were and I wondered if I was dreaming. It seemed a most unlikely note, in context. The heart is possibly my favourite phase. The green-tinged peachiness is joined by a tempering oakmoss note, slightly dusty, while the tuberose adds a creamy warmth that is quite compelling. At this point it departs in style from Mitsouko as the tuberose strengthens. However, the oakmoss never allows the tuberose to becoming overbearing, as it often can, and this perfume doesn't stray into excessive tropical territory. Having said that, there is quite a lush feel to Enlevement au Serail and despite quite liking aspects of it, it is possibly too feminine for me and I feel a bit uncomfortable wearing it. 

It's quite a weird perfume. I wasn't expecting to find tuberose lurking in what starts as old-school chypre. It is, as I stated earlier, quite cerebral and sophisticated and very challenging. I like it and dislike it at the same time, if that can make any sense at all. On the right skin and on the right person, I can see Enlevement au Serail just singing, and it is testament to Kurkdjian's brilliance that he can create a perfume that is at once both very old-school in feel, yet also bang up-to-date, with a sly little twist in the middle. Overall, I admire the perfume, but couldn't see myself wearing this, but if you are a fan of chypres and looking for something a little different, do sample it.

Image credit - luckscent.com