Superstitious by Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle

*****

Year: 2017

Notes: aldehydes, peach, frankincense, Turkish rose, Egyptian jasmine, patchouli, amber, Haitian vetiver

Comment: Superstitious is part of the Par Frédéric Malle Collection

For the second instalment in the Par Frédéric Malle Collection, Superstitious acts as a homage to Moroccan-Israeli fashion designer Alber Elbaz.

With Dominique Ropion at the helm, it's an aldehydic-floral that's vaguely reminiscent of Lanvin's Arpège. But the composition still exudes a degree of modernity, opening with citric aldehydic top notes that's crisp, clean, metallic, waxy and in complete contrast to the vintage aura normally associated with such fragrances.

The peach is three-dimensional and evocative, as opposed to an obscure fruity sweetness, possessing tart and fleshy nuances. As it further develops, a one-two punch of rose and jasmine soon emerges – with a lush and silky rose component, and the jasmine exhibiting an indole-like creaminess. And even though it started out as rather loud, by the time the mid notes have been reached, its volume has lowered considerably, resulting in a soapy floral affair with mentholated subtleties.

Residing on a base of amber and woods, the patchouli adds a camphorous earthiness and the amber fortifies the preceding floral sweetness. One personally doesn't detect much frankincense, except for a wispy reminder here and there towards the end, but the vetiver ensures that the final drydown is soft and creamy with a serene grassy-woodiness.

By and large, it's a well-composed creation that, disregarding the treatment of the aldehydes, isn't going to be considered groundbreaking in any way. Remaining a skin scent, for most of its duration, it isn't as bombastic or tenacious as some have reported. However, it still comes recommended to those who enjoy mature floral elegance over adolescent floral triviality.

New Sibet by Slumberhouse

*****

Year: 2016

Notes: mint, ash, carnation, iris, cistus, leather, moss, goat fur

New Sibet marks a rather surprising departure for Slumberhouse. Instead of the now predictable Serge Lutens homages, Josh Lobb has attempted to forge a new stylistic path.

The best thing about Josh's latest effort is the opening – a chalky, ashy and parched leather aroma, resting on a bed of moss and animalic musk. With a chypré aura, New Sibet calls to mind the old-fashioned floral-chypré premise of Bogue Profumo's MAAI (but crisper, with a more restrained floral heart), combined with the charred campfire woods of Tauer Perfumes' Lonestar Memories. Exhibiting hay or dried grass facets, the iris and cistus combined add a soft powdery sweetness to the proceedings. As for the animalic musk, its integration is both enchanting and convincing.

Based on the above, this dark fusion of leather, ashy woods, desiccated florals, moss and feral musk should have been a winner... and it was... until about an hour into its evolution. Up until this point, the only noticeable issue was that the composition seemed too light, especially for a parfum extrait. But, when New Sibet finally revealed its true weakness, any reservations about tenacity rapidly became a moot point.

By the mid notes, everything falls apart and it smells like an insipid glob of unidentifiable notes, which literally amount to nothing of any real significance. By the third hour, whatever's left on the skin is hardly noticeable at all. Such a structural disintegration is shocking, and one hopes that Josh hasn't adopted the same top heavy tactic currently prevalent in the fragrance industry (in other words, extremely inviting top notes but a bland and insubstantial base).

Barely being perceptible after four hours, had it continued the way it started out, one would have probably been singing its praises. But, alas, this isn't the case. Thus, one awards four stars for the first hour and two stars for what transpires afterwards. But at least Josh is trying a different approach.

Disclaimer: Since some Slumberhouse releases are always being 'improved', and with various formulations of the same fragrance in existence, this review is based on the sample(s) received. Due to the lack of information about these reformulations, one is unable to confirm the actual formulation(s) that has/have been reviewed. As a result, your experience of this fragrance may greatly differ. Understandably, it's all very confusing.

Untitled #8 by Untitled

*****

Year: 2011

Notes: narcissus, tobacco, oud, black leather, fur, civet, feral musk

Comment: Untitled #8 is a limited edition release

As part of Luckyscent's Untitled series, Untitled #8 was created by Smell Bent's Brent Leonesio. With an array of animalic notes, and sold as a limited edition perfume oil, it's reportedly "not for the faint of heart".

However, while one found it both feral and alluring, it didn't quite measure up to one's expectations. One agrees that it could be considered both vulgar and challenging, especially to those who are unacquainted with genuine animal musk, but that's about as far as it goes. Yes, Untitled #8 is indeed a skanky and potentially polarising creation (such that Serge Lutens's Muscs Koublaï Khän could be considered extremely tame by comparison), but it does have some noticeable flaws.

To begin with, it's not as natural as originally anticipated, resulting in a lack of complexity. Upon the opening, a generous serving of civet is clearly evident but it seems to be of the artificial variety (known as civetone). While civetone serves as a respectable synthetic substitute, it still lacks the astringent faecal aspect and sweet floral underpinning of natural civet absolute. Then there's the 'feral musk' accord, which smells like a well-integrated cocktail of musk aroma chemicals. From this, one can clearly discern the presence of tonquitone – a synthetic replacement for natural deer musk, which possesses a metallic and musky caramel aroma. Beyond that, any barnyard attributes are heavily reliant on the tobacco, leather and oud.

With initial expectations of a dark, brash and unapologetic skankiness, it's more of a timid animalic musk, with leathery nuances and a caramelised sweetness. Now, this could largely be due to its oil base, but that in itself raises some questions and concerns – ranging from the type of carrier oil used and its shelf-life, to the official perfume concentration. Unfortunately, the absence of such important information doesn't really help matters at all. And while one acknowledges that perfume oils aren't always sillage monsters, one still found Untitled #8 to be lacking some much needed bite. In summary, it isn't as raw, animalic or potent as it could have been.

Providing moderate tenacity, it has great potential as a layering agent. But, regardless of its shortcomings, one would definitely recommend Untitled #8 over many of the third-rate animalic musk concoctions currently being churned out by niche houses – including (but not limited to) CB I Hate Perfume's CB Musk, Parfum d'Empire's Musc Tonkin, Nishane's Afrika Olifant and Les Liquides Imaginaires' Peau de Bete.

Prométhée by Olivier Durbano

*****

Year: 2014

Notes: myrtle, Russian sage, pink pepper, nutmeg, fennel, lavender, Caucasian lily, daffodil, cistus, fenugreek, labdanum, myrrh, olibanum, styrax, cedar, vetiver, ambergris, musk

Turning his attention to Greek mythology, instead of precious gemstones, Olivier Durbano's Prométhée gathers its inspiration from the famous Titan (and son of Iapetus), Prometheus.

Coming across as a woody-aromatic, it's primarily about the fenugreek – sandwiched between a layer of spicy, herbaceous and floral chords, and another layer of woods, resins and musks. With a peppery-aniseed leaning, the composition exudes a dark, leathery and immortelle-like aroma, with most of the components embellishing the star note. This is especially true of the floral heart, which isn't sweet, fresh or floral by any means. Instead, the mid notes provide an extra aromatic dimension to the proceedings, albeit in a desiccated sense.

As it further develops, a warm creaminess gradually peeks from the earthy, woody and mossy tones, with the composite aroma now being highly reminiscent of hay (probably courtesy of the emerging grassy vetiver). With a subdued styrax smokiness, any evident sweetness is very Lutens-esque in a fruity-resinous manner. And it's only towards the drydown when the fenugreek slowly surrenders its dominance to the sharp woody muskiness of the vetiver, ambergris and musk.

Compared to the previous releases from this French niche house, Prométhée marks quite a stylistic departure (or, quite possibly, a brief detour) that one considers more appealing. Overall, it's slightly richer, less sweet and better executed, with far less emphasis on the frankincense. While one doesn't really consider it bottle-worthy, one still found it more pleasurable and satisfying to wear than most of Olivier Durbano's previous (and cheaper-smelling) outings.

Projection ranges from moderate to low, with staying power of around six hours.

Lapis Philosophorum by Olivier Durbano

*****

Year: 2013

Notes: grapefruit, rum, wine sediment, white truffle, menthol, juniper berry, calamus, mesquite, Oman frankincense, myrrh, opopanax, oakmoss, ambergris, musk

Inspired by the mythical Philosopher's Stone (an alchemical substance capable of turning an inexpensive metal into gold or silver), Lapis Philosophorum is Olivier Durbano's ninth fragrance release.

It starts out with a tart and mentholated booziness, which includes a creamy truffle accord amidst the rum and wine sediment. As a warm, woody, fruity and cinnamon-like aura soon takes hold, it becomes clear how crucial the calamus is to the composition. The resinous components aren't particularly smoky, and one would even go so far to say that the frankincense is merely an obligatory note. But, somehow, all the accords throughout work together seemingly well.

With green aromatic subtleties infiltrating a woody-musk foundation, it's moderately robust with average sillage. And even though one isn't a fan of this house, one certainly has to give Lapis Philosophorum some credit for its interesting structure.

L'Art de la Guerre by Jovoy

*****

Year: 2014

Notes: Calabrian bergamot, rhubarb, Granny Smith apple, nutmeg, violet leaf, Maillette lavender, grey cistus, Indonesia patchouli, immortelle, leather, oakmoss, Australian sandalwood

Based on the fougères and woody masculines of the past, L'Art de la Guerre takes its inspiration from vintage designer releases, such as Givenchy's Xeryus Rouge and Jacques Bogart's Furyo.

The best part about the composition is the opening – a multi-faceted fruity tartness of citrus, rhubarb and apple interwoven with some spices. The top notes lures the wearer in with its sweet olfactory shades of red and pink, before intermingling with emerging tones of brown, green and grey. The violet leaf largely provides those green hues, while the lavender bequeaths an ashy grey dustiness.

But it's the rest of the remaining notes that contribute earthy brown hues to the rest of its development. Resting on a bed of patchouli, leather, immortelle and oakmoss, some cistus adds a seductive ambery leatheriness to the proceedings. As for the sandalwood, it's less obvious but still perceptible during the late-drydown. One can also discern occasional hints of booze, oak, hay and tobacco throughout the ambery brown haze.

By and large, it's an impressive throwback to the mossy masculine offerings of yesteryear. However, something about it leaves one cold. Maybe because it's stylistically not to one's tastes – a sweet woody-aromatic with out of place fruity tones. And while it's not something that one would actually wear, there are sure to be those who will find it alluring, complex and satisfying.

Sillage is moderate, with average staying power.

Gardez-Moi by Jovoy

*****

Year: 2013

Notes: aldehydes, raspberry, coriander, black pepper, tomato leaf, white lily, cyclamen, mimosa, ylang-ylang, Egyptian jasmine, gardenia, vanilla, styrax, Virginia cedar, oakmoss, musks

Created by the highly prolific Bertrand Duchaufour, Gardez-Moi is a fruity-floral with notable green accents.

The opening is really inviting, with a sparkling and abundant red fruitiness, mitigated by angular verdant accords (particularly from the tomato leaf). A subdued spicy-herbaceous undertow is discernible, while both the lily and cyclamen emit aquatic nuances.

As the composition approaches the mid notes, the fruity aspect takes a backseat, allowing a soft and gracious white floral heart to fully emerge (spearheaded by the jasmine). Residing on a base of vanilla, cedar, oakmoss and white musk, the drydown is far less interesting – a sweet woody muskiness with vanillic flourishes.

While it's reasonably well-composed, the generic drydown is somewhat of a disappointment. Largely remaining close to the skin, its staying power of around four hours is also lacking.

Les Jeux sont Faits by Jovoy

*****

Year: 2012

Notes: petitgrain, rum, cognac, gin, dried fruits, cumin, angelica, tobacco leaf, labdanum, patchouli, vanilla, sandalwood

With Dorothée Piot as perfumer, Les Jeux sont Faits is a warm woody tobacco affair, embellished with spices, boozy accords, resins and dried fruits.

The opening is slightly green and aromatic, as the boozy notes quickly enter the fray, soon followed by some cumin. As it further develops, the spicy aspect intensifies and a leathery leaning becomes discernible. By this point, the rum, cognac and gin are more subdued, with the fruits firmly in the background and a blond tobacco accord gradually emerging.

Both the vanilla and labdanum lend an ambery sweetness to the proceedings, accentuating the warm richness of the tobacco. As it approaches the drydown, the patchouli pervades a woody dimension, complementing the composition's mid notes. During its final moments, what remains are soft dusty traces of patchouli, labdanum, vanilla and sandalwood.

Possessing a Lutens-esque vibe, it's a pleasant fragrance that's missing that special something to elevate it to the level of greatness it aspires to. With minimal projection and longevity of around six hours, it's still a release worth investigating.

Psychédélique by Jovoy

*****

Year: 2011

Notes: citrus, geranium, rose, patchouli, labdanum, amber, vanilla, musk

Out of the three Jovoy releases by Jacques Flori, Psychédélique is undoubtedly the most impressive.

The opening is sweet, boozy and spicy, with a candied citrus accord. Prefacing a warm and syrupy coupling of amber and patchouli, the rose and geranium both provide an aromatic floralcy to the proceedings. As a result, the patchouli doesn't reveal its dank earthiness until during the late-drydown – instead primarily complementing the resinous and ambery aspect of the composition. Built upon a base of vanilla and musk, the overall aroma is well-blended, slightly feminine and very seductive.

Compared to other niche patchouli fragrances, Psychédélique isn't as dark or dense as Profumum's Patchouly, but nor is it as masculine as Mazzolari's Patchouli or Lui. It also eschews the conservative patchouli premise of other Italian houses, such as Santa Maria Novella and Farmacia SS. Annunziata, being much closer in spirit to the patchouli offerings by Reminiscence. As it stands, it's a unique and easy-to-wear patchouli creation, and one wouldn't be at all surprised if it was one of Jovoy's bestsellers.

With moderate projection and at least six hours longevity, it lacks a richness that would compel one is rush out to buy a bottle. And it's for this main reason why a higher rating eludes it. Still, if one had to buy just one Jovoy fragrance, Psychédélique would probably be one's first choice.

Private Label by Jovoy

*****

Year: 2011

Notes: papyrus, vetiver, patchouli, labdanum, leather, birch, cedar, sandalwood

For the most part, many of Jovoy's fragrances have been unsatisfactory, to say the least. With far more misses than hits, one wasn't expecting much from Private Label but has been pleasantly surprised.

The opening is notably spirituous, accompanied by the inky properties of the papyrus and a discreet nuttiness from the vetiver. After the top notes subside, the vetiver then takes centre stage. Exhibiting a sharp woodiness, the rooty vetiver continues to emit nutty and grassy nuances along the way. As the composition further evolves, a slightly sweetened patchouli surfaces to further emphasise the earthy dankness of the vetiver.

Over time, leathery facets gradually become more discernible but, supplemented by the birch, they never really migrate to the foreground. During the drydown, the woody aspect becomes drier and slightly creamier, courtesy of both the cedar and sandalwood. Traces of vetiver still remain, but it's now more a fusion of soft woody notes and leathery whispers. Towards the very end, all that's left is a faint woody nuttiness.

Created by Cécile Zarokian, it's a quintessentially masculine woody-oriental, which focuses more on the vetiver than the leather. With moderate projection and impressive tenacity, one's only reservations are that its evolution is too rapid and the drydown lacks sufficient complexity (maybe the addition of some oakmoss and castoreum would have improved things). If these issues were addressed, it would have definitely been rated higher.

Nevertheless, it's unreservedly recommended for lovers of woody and vetiver-dominant scents.

Ambre Premier by Jovoy

*****

Year: 2011

Notes: candied orange, rose, patchouli, amber, vanilla

Developed by Michelle Saramito, Ambre Premier is a rendition of amber that one is still uncertain about.

Dwelling on the negatives first, it initially smells excruciatingly synthetic to one's nose – so much that not even the spicy orange top notes can detract from. Its artificial nature comes off as crude, hollow and cheap, with an underlining sweet powderiness. Supported by a dark yet warm dark rose core, the patchouli emits a chocolate-flavoured wafer aroma. But it serves to complement the composition's sweetness more than the rose.

As for the amber, it's evident from the outset and steadily increases its intensity over time. However, it takes a few more hours before Ambre Premier manages to redeem itself. And, when it does, one is somewhat puzzled that it's actually the same fragrance.

It's only during the drydown when everything finally comes together. The ingredients are more unified, any rough edges are smoothed over and the composite ambery aroma smells more natural. With the late emergence of the vanilla, the whole affair is also creamier and more convincing, with remnants of rose and spices still evident. As for its general performance, sillage is sufficient but its longevity is absolutely stellar – easily surpassing the 12 hour mark.

So, after a rocky start, things do improve considerably. But one isn't sure if its final stage is really worth waiting for, especially when there are better amber alternatives available. Still, if nothing else, it's very tenacious.

Lankaran Forest by Maria Candida Gentile

*****

Year: 2016

Notes: petitgrain, bitter orange, fruits, ginger, Lankaran tea, leaves, white flowers, lichen, sandalwood, sacred woods accord

Lankaran Forest was first commissioned as a bespoke fragrance, for the 2nd Buta Festival of Azerbaijani Arts, in 2015. Inspired by the Lankaran Forest region of Azerbaijan, as well as the nearby citrus and tea plantations, it was originally presented both as an Eau de Toilette and parfum extrait, in exquisite Lalique bottles. Now, as an Eau de Parfum, this woody-aromatic has been added to Maria's standard line.

Contrary to the name, it doesn't even come close to being a woody-green extravaganza. Instead, one discerns a citrus sorbet zestiness, some smoky tea and ginger, and a mild woody undertow. With gentle fruity flourishes and a delicate white floral heart, there's also a saline nuance running throughout the composition. As it evolves, the accords become more interwoven, with the citrus eventually tailing off and a spicy woody-musk foundation steadily increasing its stature.

With moderate sillage and below average tenacity, although Lankaran Forest doesn't completely bowl one over, it's still Maria's most appealing creation since 2013's Noir Tropical. However, its performance on the skin tends to be a major issue and this is reflected in the rating.

Rrose Sélavy by Maria Candida Gentile

*****

Year: 2016

Notes: rose leaf, rose stem, Michèle Meilland rose, Rose de Mai, Turkish rose, rose accord

Acting as a homage to the painter, sculptor and writer Marcel Duchamp, and his female alter ego Rrose Sélavy, this marks Maria's fourth rose creation (with Elephant & Roses, Cinabre and Sideris being the other three).

It's a vibrant, elegant and multi-faceted rose outing, which encompasses herbaceous and verdant components, especially a notable spearmint accent. As for the floral aspect itself, it's vermilion in tone, wine-like, velvety and slightly candied without being too jammy. When compared to Cinabre and Sideris, Rrose Sélavy is much more sparse and translucent – focusing solely on the different olfactory properties of roses, without any unnecessary clutter or distractions.

As the composition evolves, it becomes softer, a little sweeter and slightly spicy. By this point, the herbaceous element still persists, but has now softened and intermingled more with the rest of the accords. With moderate projection and below average longevity, the drydown becomes muskier and a tad creamy. And even towards the end, one can still identify a bittersweet greenness, from the rose stems, lurking in the background.

In relation to Maria's more recent works, it's definitely one of the better ones. However, one still found it slightly synthetic and not as potent as her earlier releases. Over recent years, one has become more concerned about Maria's stylistic shift but, unfortunately, it seems to be a permanent one. Alas, as much as Rrose Sélavy could be viewed as a respectable rose soliflore, it's nowhere near as exuberant or satisfying as Sideris.

And like Andy Tauer, one feels that Maria should set aside her rose fixation and concentrate more on exploring new olfactory themes.

Au Coeur du Désert by Tauer Perfumes

*****

Year: 2016

Notes: coriander, cumin, patchouli, resins, cedar, ambergris

Described as a metamorphosis of L'Air du Désert Marocain, but in parfum extrait concentration, Au Coeur du Désert hones in on the drydown of L'Air du Désert Marocain – accentuating "the sublime elegance and natural beauty of warm woody amber notes". More refined than its predecessor, and based on a revised formula, Andy doesn't consider Au Coeur du Désert to be a flanker but more of a creation in its own right.

Originally, the news came as a great surprise because, up until recently, Andy had always been very adamant that he wouldn't release a 'sequel' to L'Air du Désert Marocain. As for his real motivations behind launching Au Coeur du Désert, one can speculate until the cows come home. But, then again, this isn't the first niche house to do a complete u-turn and it certainly won't be the last.

As for Au Coeur du Désert, it's essentially a creamier, denser and smoother outing – exhibiting a silky ambery demeanour, as opposed to the resinous smokiness of L'Air du Désert Marocain. Significantly scaled back are the citruses and spices, with the woods (particularly the cedar) ramped up a couple of notches. As a result, Au Coeur du Désert isn't as dry as L'Air du Désert Marocain but airier, slightly sweeter and more compact. But the main downside of Au Coeur du Désert is that it possesses a hefty serving of ambroxan, which rather hampers one's enjoyment of its near linear progression.

Performance-wise, the difference in longevity between the two is practically negligible, with Au Coeur du Désert providing reduced sillage and largely remaining close to the skin. As a result, one feels that owning both would be pointless, unless layering is deemed an affordable option. But, for those who found L'Air du Désert Marocain too spicy, masculine or even boisterous, Au Coeur du Désert would be worth looking into.

Personally, one finds L'Air du Désert Marocain far more rewarding to wear. Furthermore, one is unable to justify paying over 40% more for an extrait that isn't superior, in every way, to the Eau de Toilette Intense version. But, if nothing else, Au Coeur du Désert is still better than Maître Parfumeur et Gantier's similarly revamped Ambre Précieux Ultime.

Overall, Au Coeur du Désert is a respectable reworking of Andy's bestseller, but better performance and a less synthetic woody-amber base would have resulted in a higher rating.

Lonesome Rider by Tauer Perfumes

*****

Year: 2016

Notes: citrus, coriander, black pepper, clove, spices, rose, orris, frankincense, cypriol, cedar, vetiver, sandalwood, castoreum, ambergris

"I am running my Tauer Perfumes venture for more than 10 years now... With Lonesome Rider, I want to reach out to many of you and say thank you."

     ~ Andy Tauer

To celebrate the tenth anniversary of Tauer Perfumes, Andy has released Lonesome Rider – a hybrid of two of his early compositions: Lonestar Memories and the long-discontinued Orris. Building on Orris, Andy wanted to incorporate a smoky leather note into the composition, resulting in Lonesome Rider acting as a bridge between these two early creations.

The first few seconds are surprisingly harsh, as a blast of alcohol precedes a juxtaposition of citrus and leather. The leather is a very smoky but also noticeably rubbery. As for the herbs and spices, they are less discernible, but the underlying presence of castoreum (albeit synthetic) is unmistakeable from the outset. And by the time the citrus has dissipated, the orris makes its way to the forefront.

Still possessing a smoky leather context, the slightly metallic orris weaves throughout with spicy nuances. The rose is both elegant and demure but, from time to time, one can just about make it out. With both frankincense and cedar supplementing the smoky leathery accord, with their resinous and woody properties, the vetiver adds a soft vibrant woodiness to the proceedings.

Throughout its duration, the florals never completely overwhelm and, instead, work side-by-side with the smoky leather. And when these two aspects start to fade, the vetiver and sandalwood subtly inject their creamy woody properties. With animalic musks in the base, the castoreum returns once more to provide considerable edge to an almost smoke-free woody drydown, while the ambergris exudes a salty mineral aura.

Ultimately, the rugged Lonesome Rider is a decent effort and a welcome return to Andy's roots. However, one does wonder if Andy would have done a better job had he created it back when he first started out – without all the business pressures, ingredient restrictions, fandom and other distractions that he has to contend with now. In other words, would being less self-conscious have made a difference? One can't be entirely sure but at least Andy gave it a respectable shot.

Both sillage and longevity are quite good, although its performance could have been better.

Lys du Desert by Decennial

*****

Year: 2012

Notes: bergamot, green lily, rose, iris root, cistrose, cedar, ambergris

Comment: Lys du Desert is a Luckyscent exclusive

To commemorate its tenth anniversary, Luckyscent launched four exclusive fragrances dedicated to the city of Los Angeles, with each one reflecting a different aspect of that city.

With Andy Tauer at the helm, Lys du Desert is an olfactory portrait of LA's rugged desert surroundings. Lys du Desert also shares a similar olfactory concept to L'Air du Désert Marocain, thus making Andy's involvement all the more logical. However, it ultimately comes across as a mishmash of recycled past achievements.

Opening with what could be best described as a mixture of orange syrup and root beer, Lys du Desert is pretty much a pared down version of either Incense Rosé or Une Rose Chyprée, with the woody-amber foundation of L'Air du Désert Marocain grafted on. To be frank, for such a momentous occasion in Luckyscent's history, one expected something a lot more daring and unique.

Unsurprisingly, it's dry, warm and woody, with a sweet floral core. The green lily imparts a soft verdancy, during the top notes, and the ambery aspect is well-executed. Beyond that, there's just too much déjà vu – so much that it smells like a discarded prototype for an old fragrance idea. However, by comparison, one does prefer Lys du Desert over Incense Rosé (but not over the fuller and richer Une Rose Chyprée).

For its many shortcomings, Lys du Desert is still the best Decennial fragrance out of the four, which says more about Andy's skills as a perfumer than his sense of originality. Notably stronger than its siblings, both longevity and sillage still could have been a little better.

Copal Azur by Aedes de Venustas

*****

Year: 2014

Notes: salty notes, ozonic notes, cardamom, patchouli, amber, myrrh, three different extractions of frankincense, almond, tonka bean

"Mayan incense, rising from age-old temples. Lashes of sea spray and whiffs of the jungle..."

With Bertrand Duchaufour once again at the helm, Copal Azur is both a unique and interesting interpretation of the incense theme, which utilises a tropical premise.

Consisting of three different extractions of frankincense, the copal-like opening possesses a cerulean hue, with an oriental underscore of amber, myrrh and tonka bean. Such an unorthodox introduction is utterly captivating – cardamom fused with ozonic and salty notes, which is more chlorine fresh than marine fresh. Sadly, once this highly intriguing mélange of accords fade, all that's left is a sweet and generic ambery frankincense trail.

Performance-wise, it provides moderate sillage and good tenacity.

Oeillet Bengale by Aedes de Venustas

*****

Year: 2014

Notes: bergamot, white pepper, black pepper, cinnamon, frankincense, cardamom, turmeric, clove, saffron, China rose, ylang-ylang, vanilla, benzoin, labdanum, Tolu balsam

"A rose that wants to be a carnation, set ablaze by an exotic spice explosion."

Based on the listed accords, as well as Aedes de Venustas' previous two releases, it's become very clear that, like Amouage's golden era, frankincense is integral to this house's olfactory identity.

With Oeillet Bengale harbouring the French name for 'carnation', it actually refers to a variety of China rose (or Rosa Indica Caryophyllea), bred by the late floral painter and botanist Pierre Joseph Redouté. But, interestingly enough, the aroma of Aedes de Venustas' third fragrance is inspired more by the name and appearance of this genus of rose than its actual scent.

Conceived by Rodrigo Flores-Roux, Oeillet Bengale is a spicy floral-oriental, which smells like a more feminine version of Amouage's Jubilation XXV. With a fruity-floral core, this aspect is sandwiched between a rich array of exotic spices and a creamy oriental foundation. As for the frankincense, it's delicate and wispy throughout the composition's lifespan.

Unfortunately, the drydown is too dull and tellingly synthetic. That's a shame as, with admirable projection and lasting power, Oeillet Bengale is probably Aedes de Venustas' most potent offering to date. However, this could possibly be due to the generous serving of ambroxan in the base.

Iris Nazarena by Aedes de Venustas

*****

Year: 2013

Notes: ambrette seed, juniper berry, star anise, clove, Rose de Mai, iris, frankincense, leather, oud, patchouli, vetiver, woods, musk

"The rare Iris Bismarckiana is also known as Iris Nazarena because it grows mainly in the mountains east of Nazareth."

Created by Ralf Schwieger, Iris Nazarena opens with a wonderfully bone-dry and vegetal iris note, accentuated by some ambrette seed and a hint of juniper. Any sweetness discernible, at this stage, is more of a carrot-like sweetness, with spicy nuances from the star anise.

For a few moments, the composition is further sweetened by some rose and frankincense, before a dark suede accord directs things into a woodier, earthier direction. Resting on a woody-musk base, the impending drydown emits dusty, salty and leathery facets, with faint traces of the iris-infused opening still persisting.

Never too heavy or cloying, it's a lovely union of iris-leather that initially offered so much promise. Unfortunately, sillage is underwhelming and a liberal application is required to make it last beyond the four hour mark.

Aedes de Venustas by Aedes de Venustas

*****

Year: 2012

Notes: rhubarb, red berries, green apple, tomato leaf, honeysuckle, frankincense, hazelnut, Madagascan vetiver

"Aedes de Venustas honors the past, present and future of perfumery with its first signature scent."

Founded in 1995, by Robert Gerstner and Karl Brandl, Aedes de Venustas is the name of the Manhattan niche fragrance store. After 17 years providing hard to find niche scents to their customers, they released their debut niche fragrance of the same name. Aedes de Venustas is an alluring and well-constructed fruity-green incense offering, which alone illustrates just how in touch the two owners are with quality niche perfumery.

Composed by Bertrand Duchaufour, it opens with succulent fruity-green accents tightly interwoven. The rhubarb takes centre stage and is bolstered by some red berries, while the green apple provides a tart verdancy to the proceedings. Lightly supplemented by some tomato leaf and honeysuckle, this aspect of the composition rests on a slightly nutty vetiver bed, infused with a soft, clean and transparent frankincense accord.

With a tender woody-incense drydown, the overall effect is both gracious and delectable. Overall, it's a beautiful creation, significantly marred by that fact that a liberal application is required for it to truly satisfy. Pair that with its expensive price tag, one would love to rate it higher but is unable to (which is a pity).

Projection is moderate, with below average staying power.