Aedes de Venustas Copal Azur

A beach on the Yucatan Peninsula. Source:

A beach on the Yucatan Peninsula. Source:

Copal Azur comes with the promise of all the colours of the Mayan Riviera, captured in one bottle: from the turquoise of its foaming seas to the green of its jungles, the white of its beaches and the plumes of Copal incense smoke, and the gold of fire-burning amber laid at the altars of the Jaguar God. Inspired by a Mayan citadel on Mexico’s Yucatan Peninsula, it is a fragrance whose aroma is painted in the most beautiful strokes, conjuring up a truly vivid image that transports you visually and mentally. Yet, words can differ from actual reality, and what sounds so good as a verbal picture may not translate to the same thing in terms of scent. There are parts of Copal Azur that I found quite enjoyable, but other parts got lost in translation. Or, to be more precise, it may have been better had they not been translated at all.

Source: Now Smell This.

Source: Now Smell This.

Copal Azur is an eau de parfum that was created by Bertrand Duchaufour, and released on November 15th. Whomever wrote the Aedes de Venustas’ press release did a magnificent job, if only in describing the beauty of the Yucatan Peninsula and its feel. You can read the full details on the Aedes website, but I’ll cover a few of the points here. First, the company explains that Copal Azur tries to capture the scent of a Mayan incense called Copal, but that the resin “cannot be used as a perfume ingredient.” As a result, “three different extractions of frankincense are used to conjure it from top to base notes, making up an extravagant 30% of the formula.”

The remainder of the perfume’s notes were cleverly chosen by colour category as much as scent:

  • Blue, for the Caribbean Sea and the limpid depth of the cenotes, the subterranean fresh-water pools that riddle Yucatan: a cool breeze of ozonic and salty notes.
  • Green, for the lush Mexican jungles: a flash of cardamom glinting in the moist, woody undergrowth of patchouli and myrrh.
  • White, for the purest quality of copal and the pristine beaches of Tulum: a lick of almond-scented tonka bean smoothed into creamy notes.
  • Amber for the Jaguar God of Terrestrial Fire – the fire that burns the sacred copal… Hypnotic, spiritual and forceful, Copal Azur might well indeed open the “Gate to Heaven”.
Ik Kil cenote, Yucatan Peninsula. Source:

Ik Kil cenote, Yucatan Peninsula. Source:

The succinct list of notes is therefore:

Top: Marine notes, Ozonic Notes, Frankincense
Heart: Cardamom, Patchouli, Frankincense
Base: Ambergris, Myrrh, Almond, Tonka Bean, Frankincense

Copal Azur opens on my skin with clean, cool incense and the smell of salty sea water, followed by ISO E Super and a golden, spiced, ambered sweetness that has dabs of cardamom and patchouli in it. On their heels are a trio of other notes: the cool, dusty, fustiness of myrrh; a general sort of smokiness; and the aroma of fresh pencil shavings mixed with a cedar-like woodiness.

A growing touch of clean, ozonic synthetics hovers at the edges, and this is where my problems begin. Their aroma here is redolent of a dry-cleaning shop, one that happens to be down the block from a public swimming pool, as artificial, chemical cleanness vies with a slightly chlorine-like, Calone note. Regular readers know my views on ISO E Supercrappy, but I’m not particularly fond of Calone, either.

Calone. Source: Wikipedia.

Calone. Source: Wikipedia.

For those of you unfamiliar with the name, Calone is an aromachemical that replicates a watery, sometimes oceanic “sea-breeze” aroma, though it can also have a honeydew melon nuance at times as well. Calone was a huge thing in the 1990s and early 2000s, thanks to Acqua di Gio and Davidoff‘s Cool Water, but there are many other fragrances which include the note as well.

Its use in Copal Azur is logical given Aedes’ goal of capturing the Mayan Riviera, but that doesn’t mean it’s a great idea, if you ask me. I also don’t think it works seamlessly in conjunction with the other notes, particularly the warmer ones. As for the clean, “ozonic” element, it feels like something taken straight out of Comme des Garcons‘ playbook. In fact, its Synthetics 2 is specifically intended to replicate dry-cleaning aromas. I’m sure it has its fans, but I’m not one of them. I do not want to smell like my dry-cleaners.



10 minutes into its development, Copal Azur shifts a little. The ISO E Supercrappy vanishes, but the clean, ozonic, and salty aquatic notes bloom in strength and potency. The musty myrrh grows stronger, too, along with the sweet warmth that has almost a caramel-like nuance from the ambergris. The overall result is an odd mix of contrasts where ancient notes compete with very modern ones. I appreciate it intellectually, respect its cleverness, and admit there was something quite fascinating about the paradox the first time around, but it is a novelty act which grew cold for me by the third wearing.



At the 30-minute mark, the ambered sweetness retreats to the edges, leaving behind a mix that is primarily frankincense, myrrh, ozonic, and calone aquatic notes in the foreground. Once in a blue moon, I could detect something that almost smelled like aromatic pine trees, but it was extremely muted, lurked in the distance, and eventually disappeared entirely at the end of the first hour. Like the spices and amber, it was vastly overshadowed by the “dry-cleaning” note.

I will be honest, at times, there is something appealing from Copal Azur from afar. At a distance, a good portion of the bouquet which initially swirls around you is a multi-faceted, beautifully done incense bouquet, laced with a wonderful ambered sweetness, an abstract spiciness, and a subtle tinge of something vaguely woody. Up close, the problems begin and can be glaring at times, but the first hour in particular is quite enjoyable. Later, the perfume grows simpler, cooler, more linear, and more synthetic, but the opening is nice. From afar.

The first few hours also demonstrate the Duchaufour touch in terms of Copal Azur’s sillage and body. A friend describes the perfumer’s signature as something like “hefty weightlessness,” and I agree with him. Copal Azur initially opens with a light, somewhat wispy, but strong cloud of moderate projection that weaves little tendrils around you. Three very large smears from my sample created 2.5 inches of projection at first and, even when that number dropped at  the end of the first hour to a mere inch above the skin, those tendrils continue to linger.

Art by Kestrelart on (Website link embedded within.)

Art by Kestrelart on (Website link embedded within.)

The end of the first hour marks a significant change in Copal Azur’s character. The perfume grows simpler as the aquatics and calone weaken quite a bit, joining the amber, spices and woodiness in the background. The sweetness is now muted, while the amber loses much of its caramel undertones. The saltiness disappears entirely. At the same time, the myrrh turns softer, putting an end to its faint vestiges of mustiness, but the frankincense grows stronger and blacker.

A new element suddenly appears in the base, the first stirrings of something creamy, almost milky. Now, Copal Azur is primarily a blend of frankincense with dry-cleaning aromachemicals and small streaks of myrrh, all atop a creamy base. Three hours in, the milkiness and sweetness both grow stronger, while the tonka awakens to add a wisp of powderiness to the proceedings. The latter isn’t like actual powder but is simply the sort of textural quality that tonka usually imparts. It doesn’t last long in any event, so don’t worry about Copal Azur being a truly powdery scent.

#101 'Rendezvous', by Artist Tierney M. Miller. Source: (Website link embedded within.)

#101 ‘Rendezvous’, by Artist Tierney M. Miller. Source: (Website link embedded within.)

At the start of the sixth hour, Copal Azur is merely frankincense and creaminess with persistent lashings of ozonic cleanness. A tiny sliver of sweetness lingers at the edges, but Copal Azur never feels like a hugely ambered scent after the first hour. My skin tends to amplify base notes, so I had expected a stronger and more long-lasting ambergris element. It didn’t really happen. The perfume veers back and forth between a cooler profile and something less austere, but I think it’s due more to the creaminess of the tonka than any great warmth from the amber.

In its final moments, Copal Azur is merely a puff of incense, and nothing more. All in all, the scent lasted quite a good length of time on my perfume-consuming skin, but I had to really sniff hard with my nose right on my arm to detect it after a certain point. To be precise: with three very large smears equal to 2 big sprays from an actual bottle, Copal Azur lasted 13.25 hours with sillage that remained just an inch above the skin after 90 minutes. The perfume turned into a skin scent at the start of the 6th hour, but was easy to detect without much effort up to the 8th hour. After that, I needed to put my nose right on the skin. When I applied 2 good smears, equal to 1 big spray from a bottle, Copal Azur lasted just over 10 hours, became a skin scent at the 4 hour mark but was easy to detect until midway during the 6th hour. In all cases, the sillage was merely okay after the first hour, though there were those lingering tendrils that I mentioned earlier.



As some of you may know, incense is a common thread in several Aedes de Venustas fragrances, such as Iris Nazarena and Oeillet Bengale. The former is perhaps the closest in style to Copal Azur, as the latter is primarily a floral scent, in my opinion, and the incense is not a significant, driving force. So, a few comments on how the two compare may be useful to you. I find Iris Nazarena to be a cool incense fragrance with little to no creaminess, and a quiet floralcy whose iris character doesn’t endure throughout its lifetime on my skin. There are no strong synthetics, though it does have a clean, white musk, if I recall correctly. Generally, it is a crisper incense that seems focused primarily on frankincense.

Photo: Jon Gonzo on Flickr. (Site link embedded within photo.)

Photo: Jon Gonzo on Flickr. (Site link embedded within photo.)

In Copal Azur, the myrrh competes just as much, and is backed by an ambered warmth. Comparatively speaking, I think it’s a more complex fragrance with greater nuance, though I do not think Copal Azur is a particularly complex or multi-faceted when taken as a whole or generally speaking. It’s merely a relative thing because, when Iris Nazarena loses its namesake note with its stone-like coolness, the perfume turns into a largely linear, simplistic frankincense bouquet. Copal Azur has a bit more to it, particularly as Duchaufour’s treatment means some of the opening notes fleetingly pop up once in a while at the edges to say hello. That doesn’t happen with Iris Nazarena on my skin.

I would have liked Copal Azur if the “ozonic,” clean, and watery aromachemicals had played a less prominent part. Had they been the most fleeting and abstract suggestions at the edges, I might have fallen hard for the appealing combination of incense with sweetness and ambered warmth. Myrrh is a note which can be very enticing when combined with amber, as it muffles or erases the resin’s innate dusty, fusty mustiness. When the two are combined with frankincense (my favorite sort of incense) and then tonka creaminess is added to the mix as well, the result should be right up my alley.

Unfortunately, I simply cannot get past the powerful whiff of my dry-cleaner’s shop or how long-lasting it is during the perfume’s duration on my skin. Copal Azur is not a dirt cheap fragrance, not at $245 for 100 ml, though there are more affordable refill options starting at $110. It’s still not something I would want to pay, given how mixed the results are. ISO E Supercrappy may be my own personal bête noire and something that the vast majority of people can’t detect or aren’t bothered by, but I guarantee that you will smell the calone and “ozonic” elements to some degree or another since they are explicitly and intentionally meant to be a big part of the fragrance. Whether you enjoy them more than I did will be a matter of individual, personal taste. I’ll pass.

Disclosure: My sample was provided courtesy of the company via its distributor, Beauty Enterprise. That did not impact this review. I do not do paid reviews, and my opinions are my own.

Cost & Availability: Copal Azur is an eau de parfum that is available in several sizes. There is a 100 ml bottle that costs $245 or €195; a gold-ish purse spray with 3 additional refills in 0.25 oz atomizers for $195; or three refill sprays for $110. The Aedes’ press release that I was sent says that the refill quantities are 10 ml, but the website says that they are 0.25 oz which technically comes to 7.39 ml, not 10. Regardless, in America, all sizes are available directly from Aedes de Venustas. The perfume is also sold at Barney’s. Outside the U.S.First in Fragrance and Essenza Nobile sell the 100 ml bottle which is priced at €195. I don’t think they carry the travel atomizers or refills, but you can check. They do sell samples, however and ship world-wide. Liberty London carries the Aedes de Venustas line, but does not yet list Copal Azur on its website. Elsewhere, you can find Aedes fragrances at Jovoy in Paris, Kroonen & Brown, Vittorio Profumi, Russia’s RY7, and other retailers. Samples: Surrender to Chance sells Copal Azur starting at $6.99 for a 1 ml vial. Some of the European retailers listed here sell samples as well.

38 thoughts on “Aedes de Venustas Copal Azur

  1. I was so looking forward to this one, when i heard it was going to be an Incense by Duchaufour, that used 3 different types of Frankincense, but I have to say, it was more COPOUT than COPAL to me. What I got was a very soft and muted Incense and a HUGE aquatic note mixed with pine that made me feel nauseous. I quite liked the 3 previous Aedes releases, but this one was a scrubber for me.

    • Mammoth aquatics with pine sound like a nightmare! Thank God the calone wasn’t quite so rough on me, though I had the dry-cleaner aspect to compensate instead. Interesting that the incense was muted on you, but I doubt a stronger incense presence would have remedied the aquatic problem. Calone is something that should stay in the ’90s, if you ask me.

  2. Actually I think Copal Azur was released on Oct. 23rd, at least that is the date on the email announcement I received from them. I had already had a chance to sniff a sample of this in August and it was love at first sniff. I did not get any of the ozonic or calone notes, thank god, as I detest them. It was just a beautiful myrrh incense scent on me.

    I liked Iris Nazarena a lot too (and own that one) but I could not smell Oeillet Bengale at all – just did not register to my nose. I must be anosmic to whatever they used in it.

    • The press release the company gave me has November 15th for the perfume’s availability, so maybe there was a mix-up in their entry. I’m glad you didn’t detect the ozonic or calone notes. As for Oeillet Bengale, I like that one, as it opens with a very fiery, spicy carnation and stargazer lily note that later turns almost entirely into lilies. It’s a flower whose aroma I love, so the fragrance worked for me, though it was sheer and light, I must say. Iris Nazarena is nice. 🙂

  3. funny you mentioned our preferred description of BD’s style – just today i wore his wonderful havana vanille, which is the frag where that term originated… i tried copal azur last week and must say was underwhelmed. i swear i detect aldehydes in the beginning and think reve d’ossian is quick similar, esp when you realized that incense is going to play a supporting role here. it does indeed get very salty and at that point has an affinity with heeley’s sel marin, but with that sweet pine hint hovering in the background. i must say it smells quite synthetic, ‘artificial’ in fact. the iso e super and yes that calone (which i associate with aramis new west from way back do nothing for that attempt to “conjure” the resin. it smells confused and laughably overpriced. i love incense frags but as an example of that oeuvre it’s too muddled and screechy to compete with the ‘big boys’ (avignon, bois d’encens, cardinal, of course BD’s own jub xxv & timbuktu, the excellent aedes de venustas for this line). CA comes closest in the drydown to liturgie des heures. BD is probably making too many commissions and hence is a bit uneven. Copal is not his best work, as you comprehensively point out. good to have you back!

    • I agree with many of your points, though I think the fragrance was much more complex on you than on me. I’m so glad you detected the pine as well, since it wasn’t listed in the perfume pyramid and I did wonder if I was imagining it at times given how muted and ephemeral it was on my skin. Its fleeting nature means that Copal Azur wasn’t similar to Liturgie des Heures on my skin, but I can see the Reve d’Ossian reflections you mention in Copal Azur. It’s the ambered sweetness of the opening overlaid with that incense.

      I’m particularly glad to know that I wasn’t the only one to detect the synthetics, from the calone, to the ISO E Super. As for the aldehydes on your skin, I think that was probably the “ozonic” notes which — on me and in conjunction with the calone — created that terrible “dry-cleaning” accord.

      The only thing where I don’t agree with you is in terms of Copal Azur’s problems stemming from Bertrand Duchaufour being over-extended and having uneven results as a consequence. I think he met a very specific brief for a client who had a very particular aroma profile in mind, right down to the salty, aquatic, watery/calone, and clean elements. The Aedes chap went on a trip to the Yucatan, and expressly wanted to capture all those disparate elements in one bottle. The problem is that salty incense and all the rest of the brief’s description sound a lot better on paper than it does in reality. The theory is wonderful, the imagery beautiful, but the practical realities of the calone, ozonic cleanness, etc. etc. really do create a paradoxical set of contrasts that can feel “confused,” as you put it. So, I think the client was the cause, not Duchaufour’s admittedly busy schedule.

      • thanks for the context of the commission. better on paper indeed. I do get quite a lot of pine and the presence of incense does make me think of – but not smell anything like – our beloved filled en aiguilles….

        • Both you and another reader, C, experienced a lot of pine — and I’m quite thankful that I’m not part of your group. 😉 Pine is a tricky note for me when accompanied by anything clean, and the version that “C” experienced with his “HUGE aquatic note” sounds even worse. lol

  4. Interesting comparison to Rêve d’Ossian… the opening of that one is great, but it disappears within an hour on my skin. Copal Azur lasted all day. I wish RdO lasted that long on me as it smells fantastic.

  5. I really like the opening of this but then it just doesn’t work on me at all. I like masculine scents but this starts to smell like my dad or an uncle after the first half hour. It gets piney on me too. I like pine but there’s certain pine notes, or maybe it’s another note combined with the pine…anyway, it just isn’t how I want to smell. I like it but not on me.

  6. As a fan of frankincense, I was looking forward to trying this one. I am struggling through the drydown of LM Black Oud this evening (do you know which aromachemical *that* one has too much of?) I’m afraid and perhaps a little relieved that I can now cross Copal d’Azur off my list of wants. I do not want to smell like dry cleaning. I can’t imagine much worse than that.

    • The LM Parfums’ Black Oud has a lot of Norlimbanol in it, and it was one of the problems that I had with the scent. (You can look up my review for further analysis if you’re interested.) As for Copal Azur, others didn’t experience dry-cleaning but I’m not sure you’d like the aquatics, pine, or things which people here have mentioned struggling with.

      • I only like ozone and aquatics in real life, and then the latter is not high of my list of scents to love. Pine is another story. I love the scent of pine. But, judging from your review, there’s not much here that I wouldn’t struggle through and there is too much great perfume out there to enjoy!

        As for the Black Oud, I guessed Norlimbanol but didn’t trust myself. I’m learning. I did read your review way back when, but I didn’t get a sample until today.

  7. I’d like to add that the “three kinds of frankincense” is what got me excited about the notes in this one. But, if I want that, I’ve got Goutal’s Encens Flamboyant, a scent I adore unabashedly.

  8. I must not be very sensitive to the whole ISO E Super because I loved the opening and found it bright, fresh and distinctive. As the drydown continued, it became a more traditional incense fragrance which was nice, but somehow very familiar. Sorry this went all “dry cleaner” on you….next!

    • The ISO E Super actually wasn’t the real source of the problem here, but the ozonic and calone mix. Still, what matters is that you enjoyed the fragrance, at least at the beginning before the incense kicked in. I know you’re not really a big incense person, my dearest. I’m just sorry that the drydown wasn’t as appealing to you as the opening.

  9. I really hate calone. Hate its oceanic and its melony aspects. Loathe the sucker. Add to that the fact that, to me, copal is the warm rich spicy cloud of smoke that covers and trails our local Day of the Dead parade, and this scent sounds wrong beyond words. Not wrong in any objective sense, but so wrong for me that I will not touch it. Copal is the Mexican scent of mystic early November and the thinning veil between worlds and dancing calaveras and whatever else. Not the scent of my dry cleaner. C’mon, Aedes.

    • Calone is a vile thing, but calone with ozonics is even worse. I sympathise with what the Aedes chap wanted to do, and I can totally see why he fell so hard for the Yucatan, such that he wanted to capture his experiences there. But the reality of the note combination is… difficult. I will save my sample to send to you the next time I do a package (which may be a little while), just so you can try it for yourself since you do love the actual Copal resin. I don’t think you’ll love the perfume itself, though, particularly given your feelings about calone.

  10. I agree with you and Tim on so many points. Very disappointed with this one that feels like Les Liturgies ‘Lite’. I was expecting to be bowled over by most of the offerings from this house but, unfortunately, can only adore the original, which is superb. You never know what you will get with BD: either outstanding or derivative.

    • It’s true about the Duchaufour split: either his creations are really special or they’re something at the other end of the spectrum.

      Given your Liturgies Lite reference, it seems you experienced a lot of pine, too. Gosh, that makes 5 of you now! I’m so glad it was merely a fleeting, muffled thing on me, because I don’t think I could have taken aquatics, ozonics, ISO E Super, AND a ton of pine, all mixed together.

      You know, I was just thinking, it’s odd that the notes don’t mention pine at all. What’s up with that?!

  11. I actually like aquatic/melon-y accords in certain fragrances… but my nose really cannot handle iso E Super. It’s sad, because I would love many scents from Ormonde Jayne and Tauer Perfumes if not for the use of Iso E Super… oh well.

    The combination of pine, aquatic, and incense accords does sound pretty bizarre, too. Ah, well, another thing to leave off my holiday wishlist 😀 thank you for the review!

    • The combination is even more bizarre when you consider the powerful ozonics. That was the real culprit for me. Ozone-like, chemical cleanness. An extremely unfortunate inclusion, imo.

      As for ISO E Super, I feel for you, quite a bit in fact, but it’s rather nice to have a reader who shares my difficulty with the note. Not many do, you know, especially amongst my readers, so I sometimes feel as though they must think I’m going on endlessly and unnecessarily about something they either can’t detect or couldn’t care less about. Strangers will send me emails, talking about how it’s difficult for them too, but generally people don’t seem to have problems with it at all. And, lord knows, there are plenty of people in the general perfume world who adore Molecule 01. *shudder*

      So, I understand your issues with the Ormondes and many Tauers completely. I really can’t go near the former at all these days, but some of the Tauers either don’t have it or only have a small quantity. Le Labo is another line that seems to fond of ISO E Supercrappy, along with Hermes and a few from Parfumerie Generale, but there is nothing really quite like the Ormondes. Such a pity.

  12. Meh…I don’t like aquatic scents at all so but I opened this link with so much excitement because I love copal. I burn copal on a daily basis. I love its gray, oily, smokey, earthy, vegetable scent. I pass on this one for sure.
    (parenthetical note: I got samples of Musc Koublai Kan but maybe I got a wrong sample. It smells like a tiny little sweet not too furry kitty. Only in the far dry down did I smell some warm pee but from afar, nothing nasty. My partner said: smells like horse poo not human poo and only in the most slightly non invasive way.)

    • A lot of people find MKK to be very much like a fuzzy, sweet, mild, kitten-ish musk, so you’re not alone. But there are a lot of people at the other end of the spectrum to make the perfume have a terrible, notorious reputation. Plus, it also comes down to one’s own personal, baseline standards and experiences. One person’s extreme will not be another’s. That said, one of the most hardcore musk fragrances may be Parfums d’Empires Musk Tonkin in the limited-edition, rare parfum version. (Not the new, tamer EDP version.) For true animalics, though, you should try Masque’s Montecristo or the glorious, stupendous Maai by Bogue. I think you’d be thoroughly impressed by the latter for a variety of reasons, not just the hyrax/civet/castoreum animalics.

  13. So far I’ve only liked Œillet Bengale, and only because on my skin is a cross between Opium/Nu/Shanghai Lily. But still, I’d rather go for Shanghai Lily, since the price for vintage Opium is skyrocketing! Plus, each bottle is like playing Russian roulette!

    • Oeillet Bengale is very nice and, like you, I found an overlap with Shanghai Lily as well. Not so much Opium, despite the shared carnation note, because it wasn’t so significantly oriental nor particularly balsamic, resinous, ambered or patchouli on my skin. Is it on yours? It’s rather a light, sheer thing on me, despite the fiery spiciness of the opening moments.

      BTW, I’m glad to hear that we have even further shared commonalities, from a love of vintage Opium to that of white, Stargazer lilies. I LURVE lily notes!

      • Œillet was nice for the little while it lasted, roughly 2 hours. The resemblance to Opium hit me at first whiff, something about the spices and carnation. But then it morphs into kind o an abstract floriental. Not bad but not mind blowing either. The closest to vintage Opium is Fate woman(love) and the closest to vintage Nu(major major like) is Shanghai, though with emphasis on the Lily, in the way Nu emphasizes the orchid and jasmine.

        • Wow, Fate Woman turns into something related to Opium on your skin? How very cool, Alex. It definitely doesn’t do that on mine, even when it transitions from its chypre stage into its oriental one. Regardless of genre, I love, love, LOVE Fate Woman. Such a chic scent which goes from sophisticated to sexy.

          As for the Oeillet (I can’t do the conjoined oe thing and have to look up the code for my computer), I’m not surprised to hear it only lasted 2 hours on you. It lasted somewhat longer on me, but I think it is one of those scents that will die a quick death on certain skins. Oh well, money saved for you! 🙂

          • The funny thing about Fate was that the one who noticed it was my mother, hardcore Opium fan and proud owner of a 1977 edt in original bottle and formula.( it still packs a punch) ‘Are you wearing Opium??’ she asked, and it hit me. The chypre stage reminds me of the leathery galbanum of Bandit, I get the vanillic smokiness of Shalimar, and the spicinnes is Opium. Sometimes I love this homage to 3 of my favorites, but sometimes I just enjoy the storytelling of Fate as a unique creation. I guess the money saved will go to a full bottle soon 🙂

          • I think I gulped at all those references in one scent. WOW! How I would love to smell it on your skin. It sounds utterly magnificent, Alex! You know, Fate was going to be my next full bottle purchase a few months ago, but I got side-tracked into 4 other scents, in large decant form for the most part. But I will buy a full bottle of Fate, sooner rather than later. Hopefully, one of the reputable discount retailers that carries Amouage at good prices, like Lily Direct or FragranceNet will get it sometime, since it’s not exactly cheap. Fate Woman is definitely the best out of all the recent Amouage releases, imo. In contrast, I thought Journey Woman was….. *ahem*

  14. It sounds rather confusing to me, I must say. Oceanic, watery notes and frankincense? I cannot imagine what it actually smells like, it sounds like such a counterintuitive mix to me. Frankincense never smells ‘cool’ to me.

    • I don’t think frankincense smells cool, either, but I do think myrrh does. It’s a coldish incense, very High Mass, and can be quite musty or fusty at times, especially if it isn’t counter-acted by a lot of warmth. As for the confused mix here, I agree that it is definitely a different way to treat incense — both frankincense AND myrrh. The Ozonic, chemical cleanness was really a final, fatal touch for me, far worse than just the salty, oceanic water alone.

      • But High Mass AND oceanic water? (Plus the chemical cleanness!) I’m genuinely confused as to what it must smell like. I can’t wrap my head around this one.

        (Myrrh doesn’t read very cold to me, mostly because in my mind, it sort of bring some warmth in a church where the heating system is off. Warmth amidst coldness, if that makes sense. But that maybe because it’s a very comforting smell to me, I really like it)

        • Don’t worry, Anne, I was equally confused! Perhaps you should look for it on your next trip to a perfume shop which carries the Aedes line, just to see what it’s all really like. 🙂

  15. Hello, this is the first time I comment on one of your articles but not the first time that I read them. I’m quite fond of the detailed analyse you offer for each perfume tested.
    I’m glad to read that you also got that pine tree forest impression and the drycleaner smell. I was so looking forward to Copal Azur. I like the first three ones from Aedes and I like incense in combination with amber and myrrh but I have to admit that I’m not a fan of calone and ozonic fragrances. Smells much too artificial for me most of the times and also makes me feel a bit sick, who knows why. Still, I had big expectations. And then I received the sample and spilled it accidentally. My blouse and the floor were impregnated. First, I was annoyed about the waste, but then I was much more annoyed about the smell. What is THAT? It reminded me of a bath floor cleaning lotion. I could only smell ozone, calone and a very strong pine tree note. The incense was drowned by these notes. Definitely not what the description of the perfume made me hope for. I wanted to scrub it off immediately and then for intellectual and analysing purposes I decided to wear the perfume until the end. I have to say even if I’m far from taken by the fragrance, it helped me getting inspiration for writing a short story. It kind of cleared my head. But olfactory wise, it’s a huge disappointment for me.

    • Welcome to the blog, Passionez. 🙂 I’m glad you stopped by after lurking for so long. I’m particularly glad to know I’m not alone in experiencing that drycleaner smell. I had to laugh a little at your reaction with the “What is THAT?” in caps. Believe me, I know exactly how you felt. Thank you for stopping by and sharing your story with Copal Azur. I hope you’ll feel free to stop by more often if you get the chance.

  16. Pingback: Frapin Nevermore - Kafkaesque

Comments are closed.