Ramon Monegal Mon Patchouly: fragrance review

Mon Patchouly, part of the impressive new Ramón Monegal perfume collection from the former owner & perfumer of Spanish Myrurgia (since swallowed by Puig), straddles the line between woody oriental fragrance and oriental "gourmand", intended for people of either sex persuasion who love soft, rich, deep scents that invite you closer with a delicious Jon Hamm hum rather than proclaim their aggressive intentions with mock bravado. It's patchouli reinvented; traditional, yet new; an overdone fragrance note of the 2000s which here gains a precious, quietly exciting patina.

via http://nowandthan.tumblr.com/post/19390848880

The association with the suave Midwestern actor is reinforced by the subtly retro "masculine cologne" hint ~with its herbal indefinable rosy touch under the musk and woods~ that Mon Patchouly exhibits, further enhanced by the rum & whiskey tonality it gains as it unfolds its dry cocoa powder opening on the skin. It's enough to induce daydreaming of more elegant times, when men were virile and women were femmes. Aside from the phenomenal lasting power of the fragrance on my wrists ~withstanding an entire extended weekend that involved 2 showers, one prolonged sea dip (!) and several hand washings, obviously~ Mon Patchouly is also distinguished by its variability according to the skin it performs on.

On my own feminine skin, this RM perfume sweetens, mollifying the intense gourmand dryness of French roast coffee dregs & cocoa of Borneo 1834 by Serge Lutens. Fans of Montale Boisée Vanille and L'Artisan Havana Vanille/Absolument Vanille might find a similar boozy, darkish, real vanilla pods note hiding; rich and resonant, full of complexity and sub-plots, sometimes the latter even slightly repelling but always compelling. On my significant other's male skin Mon Patchouly dried down more resinous ambery, though not quite the thick, beer-belly-amber we know from elsewhere; I detect a hint of raisin and smoke too which provide contrast, probably revealed by skin Ph magic. The fragrance has the right balance and artistry not to fall into the over-familiarized (Just think, how many sweet amber patchoulis can you name at gun point? This isn't one of them).

The mossier, greener, woodier elements come forth from the back like dark secrets of a life behind closed doors, trysts during lunch break and hushed phone-calls, while still retaining the cigar box elegance and connoisseur complexity. I'm absolutely sure that come autumn and winter, Mon Patchouly will be delegated on the very front of my perfume closet (alongside the more panseasonal marvel Mon Cuir of the RM line which I sport as I write and on which I will write a separate review), its snuggly warmth a comfort for hectic days when its escapist fantasy will consume my commute and daily chores. I just can't fathom how bind-blowing Ramon Monegal's Mon Patchouly will be on a mohair scarf shared between lovers...you'll have to wait for me to divulge in due time!

Bottom line: scrumptious! I'd love to get one of those beautiful inkwell bottles for myself.

Notes for Ramon Monegal Mon Patchouly: Patchouli, olibanum, oakmoss, geranium, jasmine, amber

Available at Luckyscent in eau de parfum concentration.

In the interests of full disclosure, I was sent a sample from the manufacturer.

Serge Lutens Santal Majuscule: fragrance review & draw

The majestic scent of sandalwood stands as the benevolent Hitopadeśa tales of the Far East, a fan of fantasy woven in didactic morals for princes, much like the precious real fans carved out of the prized wood for cooling off in the intense heat of the Indian peninsula; rich, milky-smelling, with a hint of incense and fresh greenery at times, still retaining their scented glamour as decades go by. The intimate, elegant aura of woody fragrances finds its apogee in sandalwood; perfumes plush and collapsingly soft but with the promise of intelligence. Santal Majuscule by Serge Lutens just comes to reinforce this notion as introduced on these pages a while ago, being the perfect sandalwood starter fragrance for those seeking such a thing, but also a welcome Lutensian offering to make me fall again headfirst into his Alice in Wonderland private cosmos I found myself tangled in ever since he issued the sumptuous La Myrrhe. Lutens however remains Lutens: the orient is ever present, but it is the occident which defines his torturing demons. His new Santal Majuscule is an assured step in his Camino de Perfección, modeled after St.Teresa of Ávila whose Latin motto seals the fate of the fragrance: is it the throes of passion or the throes of divine ecstasy that mark the lines of her face? Where does one end and the other begin? Her devotion of silence is symbolic of the enigmatic nature of the Lutensian opus itself.

 "Pride must be celebrated. Thus the boy, clad in armor and perched on his horse, along with a terrible princess in full mourning dress, pictured himself arriving at the Coronation Mass to the sound of thundering hooves, just at the moment of the transubstantiation, that very moment when the priest holds the host up to the cross, to the one agonizing on it."

"As you know, there are a wide variety of sandalwoods. Mysore is one that has been subjected for some time to a hidden trafficking. I had used it in the mid 90s, during the creation of Santal de Mysore. Santal Blanc is another thing. Regarding Santal Majuscule, this is an Australian sandalwood, high quality, but with this release, I 'sensationalized' it so much that in the end, it is impossible to tell if it comes from India, Australia or elsewhere. What interests me is what I can do with it. Moreover, using sandalwood for itself alone would be a little 'Sandalwood of misery'...."               Serge Lutens quote from  interview bestowed to Elena Vosnaki

It's not hard to see why sandalwood ~despite having another two in the line already (Santal Blanc recently being moved into the Paris exclusives line to couple with the resident Santal de Mysore)~ was picked yet again as the foundation on which Lutens built his church, to paraphrase another religious reference. Sandalwood is the natural product par excellence, nature's agony and ecstasy: a scent so fine, so rich and yet with a fresh top note, so creamy sweet and so enduring, that it has inspired generations of men and women to harvest its precious, sacred trunk in order to imbue products for personal, religious and public use with its fine aroma. Although as explained in my Raw Material Sandalwood article the Mysore variety is rationed for fear of depletion (hence the wealth of synthetic sandalwood substitutes enumerated), the polished silkiness of the Indian variant could be mimicked creatively only by the choicest wizards of perfumery. And who more excellent than the mercurial figure of Serge Lutens to offer us a vista into the orientalia of a "nouveau sandalwood"?

The maestro revealed to me in an interview (replete with his childhood reminiscences of classroom ennui) that Santal Majuscule is technically based on the Australian sandalwood variety (which smells different), but I can attest the perfume ends up smelling like an radiant attar procured somewhere close to King Víkrama's lion-throne, creamy and luminous in its rose-distillate facets, sprinkled with promise of cocoa and soft spices (cinnamon), silky sheen with a hint of orange blossom honey and sweet incense in the background. After all, Lutens managed to inject a delicious effect of sandalwood in his savory gourmand fragrance Jeux de Peau, where the impression is again built on fantasy.
 For Santal Majuscule, perfumer Chris Sheldrake and Lutens weaved the familiar web of woody tonalities which they have composed a thesis and a meta-thesis on, ever since Feminite du Bois (the latter alongside Pierre Bourdon). But whereas their other woody compositions can veer dark and rather brooding (see the patchouli & cocoa fantasy of Borneo) and we know from Iris Silver Mist and Tubereuse Criminelle the master has a taste for the morose and the morbid, here the treatment is smiling; petal-soft, sweetish (but never much) and with an elegance and refined allure that defies preconceived notions. The rose is perceptible, but not "dated", The apricoty tinge gives just the right fruity, almost edible tenderness, an ally to the liqueur-like essence of Damask rose and the creaminess of the woods. But the fragrance is far from his Rahat Loukhoum gourmand quality you can give yourself cavities with, making it pliable enough for people who don't like double helpings of anything.

The composition of Santal Majuscule also defies ~especially upon drying down on the skin~ the familiar, been-there-done-that rose attar model of the Middle East: that traditional "A Thousand and One Nights" melange of rose and sandalwood, as recognizable as Aladdin's cave in the desert. The longer the fragrance stays on skin (and it stays on very long) the more it gains a skin-scent aura of musk and honey, animalic yet elegant, with an addictive character, unisex and inviting; like living, breathing, caressed human skin this close to the throes of (divine?) ecstasy.  As Serge says: "Obey what you smell, feel, love. Do not obey what you're told, and do not believe it too much!"[from same interview to the author]
Given all this, I just can't wait for Une Voix Noire, his next installment in the canon.

Compared to the other two sandalwood fragrances in the Serge Lutens line of perfumes, Santal Majuscule is less sweet than Santal Blanc, less daring and austere than Santal de Mysore. Contrasted with that other golden standard of sandalwood perfumes, Tam Dao by Diptyque, I find myself ensnared by the Lutens, mainly because where Tam Dao used to be true and rich, it now boasts a pronounced pencil-shavings cedarwood note which limits its prior rich versatility.

Santal Majuscule is available in Eau de Parfum "haute concentration" (i.e. the slightly pricer than normal black label line of high concentration) at Les Salons du Palais Royal in Paris and online. Starting September 1st 2012 the new "export" fragrance will be sold worldwide.

A generous decant sprayer of the latest Lutens perfume is available for one lucky reader! Please let me know in the comments what you like or not about Lutens and sandalwood perfumes in general. Draw is open till Friday 27th midnight internationally. Draw is now closed, thanks everyone for participating.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Serge Lutens perfume reviews & news, Sandalwood in Perfumery, Woody Fragrances


pic of statue via thecoincidentaldandy.blogspot.com

Tableau de Parfums Snapshots "Dark Passage" by A.Tauer: fragrance review & draw

"It was a hot afternoon, and I can still remember the smell of honeysuckle all along that street. How could I have known that murder can sometimes smell like honeysuckle?"
~Double Indemnity, 1944


Dark Passage is a limited edition, g-o-r-g-e-o-u-s perfume by Swiss genius Andy Tauer which doesn't smell of honeysuckle. It does smell of film noirs and danger though like there's no tomorrow. Last time Tauer issued a limited edition it was the legendary Orris. If this hasn't had your ears perked up, I don't know what will. Perhaps that Dark Passage is a dark alleyway of a scent, full of spilled booze, contraband and dangerous women with luring tentacles the size of Barbara Stanwyck's evil quota in classics of the genre. I can only say I was very honoured to be among the extremely few people who got to try this amazing perfume.

Dark Passage is also rebellious; as Tauer says about the creation: "For me this first SNAPSHOT fragrance comes as a relief. Finally, I can do a fragrance that does not need to go through any distribution and sales machinery and EU registration and other investments. It is just here. If you are interested in it: Get it."

Dark Passage is perched on the darkness of natural, dirty, raw patchouli, a note poised between the woody and the camphorous. "Patchouli coeur which means”heart of Patchouli” is basically a patchouli that is rich in patchoulol. I am using a quality that is 66% patchoulol. I use it together with “standard” patchouli.[...]Patchouli coeur is even a bit more on the light, airy, musky side. Yes, there is a musky aspect that is stronger and underlined in Patchouli Coeur. I got mine from Ventos, but the description on Robertet‘s internet site is wonderful. It is in French and thus even more mysterious: “Odeur : le cœur de patchouli présente un aspect olfactif très propre, ambré, terreux, patchoulol, oriental.” Thus, it smells clean, of ambergris, earth, patchoulol, and oriental", clarifies Tauer.

But that's not all, nor is it the whole truth: Dark Passage is a perfume full of patchouli and you can't but like that material to fully enjoy it, but there are other elements to entice and to sway the character. Labdanum I believe, coupled with [no, I was wrong] beeswax musky-animalic notes, giving a sweet, intimate, almost suede aspect; a very prominent cocoa note from natural cocoa absolute, not wrapped in gourmand wiles but rendered bitter, noir, dirty, tobacco-rich...There's also a bit of birch tar, which aids both the bitterness of the chocolate facet and the leathery note, as well as a snippet of vetiver, rendered musty and as black as the night on the swamp where someone is dumping bodies on the hush.


Most importantly: Dark Passage is not bound by IFRA rules!

If you want to compare with something you might have tested already, I can only think of Ayala Moriel's Film Noir, which is another dirty, deeply dark heartless patchouli; that one isn't as cocoa-rich, though as this one.

Packaged in 7ml enamel atomizers and available in limited edition quanities, the Tableau Snapshots are smaller in scale and with a different scope. You can find all about the inspiration, the project (part of Kickstarter to promote the new Brian Pera film "Only Child") and where to buy on this post.

HURRY!! Dark Passage is only available till March 29th!

One small sample available for one lucky reader!
Draw is now closed, winner announced on Home page.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: The power of "noir" in perfumes (with a film noir titles game included!)

In the interests of disclosure, I was sent a sample by the perfumer. 

Parfumerie Generale Musc Maori 04: fragrance review

Pierre Guillame, the young and charismatic perfumer behind the Parfumerie Generale line, composed an unusual gourmand musk with subtle animalic vibrations beneath, like a male lion heard from a distance, which gives pause to think: Is it foody? Is it in dried fruits & wood Lutensian territory? Is it powdery musky? What is it exactly? There's nothing more exciting than a perfume that throws all caution to the wind and perplexes.

The opening of Musc Maori is as promised a strong, sweet cocoa note (juiced over by bergamot & orange) and with the smell of planked woods on which a subversive non homemaking type is preparing chocolate-chip cookies with a dash of Tia Maria coffee liqueur. Yet the aroma of chocolate slowly dissipates and we're experiencing the rise of a powdery, warm, almost clean musk with vanilla in the background, as if the person in question is slowly heating up in that enclosed space of the kitchen, "cooking" alongside the cookies, revealing the fleur de peau note that musks are famous for. After all, musk (like patchouli) does have a natural aspect of cocoa, so it makes sense to pair the two. A hint of floral (jasmine?) wrapped up in cellophane is peeking through, there is a rubber, dusty wood-glue note which is discombobulating. (Might I venture there is some Okoumal aroma-synthetic by Givaudan in there?)

Of course Tonka beans already have a chocolate facet, so coupled with a lactone and vanilla they would give this feel of chocolate being heated up. If it were naughtier, it would evoke bedroom play involving dribbled chocolate syrup, but it doesn't cross the line, even though it tethers there for a few seconds in promise. The overall impression is one of a linear, uncomplicated scent, which doesn't transform through distinct stages, but rather performs a diminuendo of its original motif.

You have to at least like gourmands to appreciate this one, although it isn't your typical Angel clone where the caramel and Caspirene glob you on the head, nor is it as dry and espresso-laced as the refined patchouli in Borneo 1834. The buttery, lactonic feel is reminiscent of Matin Calin by Comptoir Sud Pacifique, so those who like the latter and want a chocolate-milk version or one which reminds them of Palmer's Cocoa Butter Lotion should try it. The Non Blonde compares it to Lea Extreme without the almond-coconut tonality and I will take her word for it. I guess this makes it more feminine than unisex, although adventurous males with a sweet tooth might want to try it out. Musc Maori by Parfumerie Generale is something to be sampled for sure anyway: I can't think of a weirder, more kinky musk out there!

And since we're talking chocolate, how do you like yours? Dark, milky, in-between? With filling or not? Particular brands? I'm hungry!

Notes for Parfumerie Generale Musc Maori:

Bergamot, cocoa bean, Cumaru wood, coffee tree blossom, amber, Tonka bean, white musk.

Musc Maori 04 circulates as an Eau de Parfum which lasts for ages, in both 30ml/1oz, 50ml/1.7oz and 100ml/3.4oz sizes, available at Luckyscent, First in Fragrance and The Perfume Shoppe.

Photo of melted chocolate via lovecstasy. com