Although saffron and roses are a favorite combination in many a niche fragrance offering these days, back in 2002, when Safran Troublant actually launched, it was unusual and arresting. Typically with L'Artisan Parfumeur, the road was laid for other travelers to travel through; paths well trodden and less explored alike, but the French brand founded by perfumer Jean Laporte in the late 1970s was a pioneer.
Safran Troublant, if not marking high on the novelty value impressions score nowadays, still is an arresting scent, if only because it manages to balance the precarious precipice of clandestine smolder and comforting warmth. Roses are not especially simpatico for various reasons, but when given the sheath of a pitch-black collaborator, such as leather, or patchouli, or aoudh or -indeed- saffron, I stand on attention and pay my respects.
There's something about Safran Troublant, at once mouthwatering and "troubling" as its moniker in French denotes. The lactonic creaminess it projects recalls eating rosewater puddings with vanilla, someplace East. The suede-like saffron spice is enhanced by the depths of an irresistibly cozy, musky embrace that draws you in closer. Oddly enough it creates desire to the same degree that it quenches it; a discreet fragrance you might take for granted, like one's mainstay in the wardrobe, but leaving you with the renewed sensation of always looking at it with eyes afresh.