Incarnata by Anatole Lebreton

*****

Year: 2015

Notes: raspberry, violet, rose, rhododendron, iris, lipstick, suede, myrrh, amber, benzoin, vanilla

Developed as an ode to lipstick and femminity, Incarnata attempts to venture where Frédéric Malle's synthetic-smelling Lipstick Rose failed, while striving not to make the same mistakes.

Personally, one believes Incarnata to be stylistically closer to Hilde Soliani Profumi's Vecchi Rossetti, with the same aldehyde waxiness but less powdery. Being slightly denser than Hilde Soliani Profumi's superb creation, Incarnata is yet another violet-rose infused iris offering that's well-executed. Exuding some raspberry, a touch of leather and a richer oriental base, it also alludes to the late-drydown of Parfum d'Empire's Cuir Ottoman, while still retaining that cosmetic waxiness.

With barely any sweetness, it's a very good effort that would have fared better with greater tenacity and a little more originality. Still, it comes warmly recommended.

L'Eau Scandaleuse by Anatole Lebreton

*****

Year: 2014

Notes: bergamot, peach, davana, ylang-ylang, tuberose, nagarmotha, leather, oakmoss, castoreum

L'Eau Scandaleuse is a sensual leathery-floral, which isn't too aggressive or overpowering.

The juicy opening of bergamot, peach and davana sets the scene for the white florals. Although still somewhat narcotic, the presence of both the tuberose and ylang-ylang are more restrained than heady, as they emanate their creamy floral properties.

As for the leather, it's more of an aged, tanned and gentle leather accord, which is devoid of any tarry or smoky facets. A touch of oakmoss is discernible, in the base, but it's the castoreum that truly shines – accentuating the indolic properties of the tuberose, while providing an enchanting animalic backdrop.

By and large, it's a very sultry and harmoniously blended effort, and serves as an indication of interesting things to come from Anatole Lebreton. However, one's main concern lies is in its minimal projection and disappointing longevity. If it performed much better on the skin, one would have given it an extra star.

Regardless of this, L'Eau Scandaleuse would be a great alternative for those who found Frédéric Malle's Carnal Flower too earthy and clinical.

Bois Lumière by Anatole Lebreton

*****

Year: 2014

Notes: mandarin, clary sage, Corsican juniper berry, fir balsam, rose, carnation, honey, beeswax, immortelle, benzoin, Atlas cedar

Bois Lumière is based on the inhospitable climate of a garrigue (a shrubland ecoregion found in Mediterranean forests and woodlands) during drought season.

The opening is candy sweet, slightly smoky and intensely aromatic, with the clary sage acting as a foil for the mandarin, juniper and fir balsam. Both the honey and beeswax are present right from the start, and continue to linger throughout the fragrance's lifespan.

Towards the mid notes, the florals are discreet but the carnation emits spicy subtleties, which sets the scene for the emergence of the immortelle and benzoin. The cedar base attempts to reinforce a dry or resinous aura but, with the sweetness from the other notes being so overwhelming, it ultimately fails.

With animalic nuances from the beeswax, it's a respectable woody effort. However, the olfactory depiction of a sun-scorched garrigue could have been more accurate if it wasn't so sweet. Also, the cedar-infused drydown is too predictable. Still, one can't dispute that the first half of the composition was worth experiencing – it's just a pity that the final act is so derivative.

Projection is moderate, with disappointing longevity of under three hours.

L'Eau de Merzhin by Anatole Lebreton

*****

Year: 2013

Notes: angelica root, galbanum, violet leaf, cassie, water hyacinth, hawthorn, orris, heliotrope, vernal grass, hay, coumarin, anisaldehyde, tonka bean, oakmoss, ambrettolide, cresols

Anatole Lebreton is a new and upcoming French niche perfumer, and L'Eau de Merzhin takes it inspiration from childhood memories of the great outdoors.

Described as "the perfume of a childhood spent running around in meadows, venturing through the deep mossy woods and the mysterious moors of the Breton countryside", it commences with an exuberantly raw and bitter freshness.

Opening with some angelica root, one instantly discerns a sharp body cream aroma. With some galbanum and violet leaf providing a verdant touch to the top notes, the light florals are more aromatic than floral. With regards to the orris and heliotrope, they aren't noticeably powdery, but the orris does provide a vegetal earthiness.

With vernal grass, hay and coumarin in the heart, the greenness detected at the very beginning is successfully maintained. It's also very well-blended, without the coumarin being overwhelming. As it approaches the base, the aroma is somewhat redolent of wild grass and fresh hay.

However, even at this stage, that piercing body cream aura still persists, which interferes with one's enjoyment of the composition. Chances are it's due to a heavy-handed serving of anisaldehyde – an aroma chemical with a strong almond odour and spicy-floral nuances. Whatever it is, it does ruin the overall experience.

During the late-drydown, traces of oakmoss and musk remain discernible. But the performance on the skin is so faint that it's almost completely overlooked. Poor tenacity, coupled with an overdose of anisaldehyde, fails to completely win one over, thus making L'Eau de Merzhin just another green-themed niche fragrance that misses the mark.