Hello everyone, happy end of the vile wretchedness that was 2021! I’ve done a lot of reviews on Twitter in the past 6-9 months and thought I would share here for those of you who avoid the site, starting with two fragrances I liked from Zoologist: Bee and Chipmunk.
Chinese Oud, the latest release from Areej Le Doré, is a perfect example of a self-taught perfumer honing and refining his style over time to become the equal of many professional, big house noses today. The opulent parfum is the result of a collaboration between Russian Adam and his friend, Jamira Oud, who distilled and worked on many of the rare Chinese raw materials, including wild, aged, nearly extinct Hainan agarwood which is considered by many collectors to be one of the top varietals in the world due to its unusual floral, fruity, and citrus tonalities.
I’m going to tell you upfront, right from the start, that I loved Chinese Oud and I thought that it was not only complex but also one of the more approachable, versatile, refined, non-blocky, and smooth floral leather ouds (or floral oud orientals) from Areej Le Doré.
Chinese Oud, 10 ml bottle version. Photo: Areej Le Doré
Chinese Oud, 10 ml bottle. Photo: my own.
Amouage‘s new Renaissance Collection marks the beginning of a new era for the Omani brand; its most popular release, Crimson Rocks, is the subject of today’s review. One of four fragrances, Crimson Rocks eschews Amouage’s old system of having twin Man/Woman fragrances on the same theme. Instead, there are four new unisex fragrances, each with a different focus. Crimson Rock’s focus is a cinnamon-spiced, honeyed, slightly gourmand and very woody desert rose which eventually becomes a honeyed, spicy, rose-tinged woody amber.
Amouage Crimson Rocks via Amouage Official Twitter.
Cuir de Russie, the upcoming S6 release from Areej Le Doré puts me in a tricky spot as a reviewer. On the one hand, it is one of my favourites out of the new S6 collection when worn on skin, evoking at different stages Roja Dove‘s Fetish Pour Homme, Jacques Guerlain‘s aesthetic in old vintage classics, and even Serge Lutens‘ Cuir Mauresque for a brief moment.
On the other hand, Cuir de Russie should NOT actually be worn on skin, due to its core ingredient of crude birch tar which is deemed inadvisable and unhealthy when in contact with the skin. In fact, the use of crude birch tar is flat-out prohibited in any fragrance that is intended for the skin. (Only rectified birch tar can be used, and in highly regulated levels at that.) Consequently, Russian Adam calls Cuir de Russie a “garment fragrance” and explicitly advises that it should only be applied to fabric. I did not follow the advisory and wore the fragrance both ways. I doubt I will be the only one to do so.
Which brings me to my dilemma: How do I write about a fragrance that is a singular monolith when worn in the way that is advisable and when that description would entail three short paragraphs but when the inadvisable, health-dangerous way would yield thousands of words of enthusiasm?
Photo: NASA, the Horsehead Nebula.