“Debauched jasmine” rendered musky from Laotian oud, sweet from vanilla, and fresh from bergamot lies at the heart of Al Khatt, an eau de parfum from Xerjoff that seems more like an attar in its concentrated richness. It’s a creamy, sometimes animalic jasmine whose petals often feel as though they had been drenched in sharp honey, and which wafts a quiet animalic sensuality that is subtly amplified by the earthiness of a very muted, truffle-like oud.
Category Archives: Fragrance Genres
Parfums de Nicolaï Amber Oud: Soothing Comfort
Source: diaryofamadhausfrau.com
Close your eyes, and imagine diving into a pool of lavender ice-cream. As the bracing herbal bouquet swirls in the air, tonka and vanilla coat your body like silk, enveloping you, soothing you. Yet, with every lap you take, the water starts to change its colours. The purple and cream turn to gold, then to bronze, and finally to brown-gold as the lavender gives way first to patchouli, and then to labdanum. Dusted with tonka, your body is coated with a sweet, spicy warmth that always feels expensive. It is the world of Amber Oud from Parfums de Nicolaï, a world that has absolutely nothing to do with oud and everything to do with soothing richness.
I’ve often said that my second favorite category of perfumes are “cozy, comfort” scents, and Amber Oud certainly qualifies. The last 6 weeks have been frustrating and stressful with the website changes, and I’ve repeatedly sought the creamy embrace of Amber Oud. It riveted me from the very first time I tried it, and I say this as someone who absolutely loathes lavender. To the point of a phobia, in fact. But, lavender or not, I think Amber Oud is truly marvelous. For me, it feels like a safety blanket, one that comes close to wiping away my worries, lowering my blood pressure, and comforting me — all with a luxuriousness that feels like the very best of Guerlain. Given that Madame de Nicolaï is a member of that family and is highly influenced by the Guerlain tradition, the similarities in feel are not surprising.
“The Lavender Princess.” Photo: Kirsty Mitchell. Source: http://www.kirstymitchellphotography.com/collection.php?album=5
Nonetheless, let me be clear at the outset about one thing: if Amber Oud is an “oud” fragrance, then I’m Vladimir Putin. If you test the perfume expecting to detect a profound amount of agarwood, you’re going to be sorely disappointed. I have worn Amber Oud a number of times, and not once did I detect even an iota of agarwood. Not once. Cedar and some amorphous, indistinct woodiness, definitely. Actual oud, no.
Amber Oud in its two sizes, 30 ml and 100 ml. Source: Luckyscent.
On her website, Patricia de Nicolaï describes Amber Oud and its notes as follows:
Amber Oud is created thanks to the famous perfumers amber combination, based on vanilla and labdanum. A perfume sublimated by the powerful agarwood note.
Top notes are lavender, thyme, sage and artemisia; middle notes are cinnamon, saffron, agarwood [oud], cedar, patchouli and sandalwood; base notes are vanilla, tonka bean, styrax, musk, castoreum and amber.
As noted above, I couldn’t detect any agarwood in Amber Oud, let alone a “powerful” one. So, a more apt description of the perfume might be that of Luckyscent:
Source: 123rf.com
Amber Oud embodies a golden effervescence, a freshness you wouldn’t expect from its name. Debuting with clean spice notes and a bubbly profile, the scent presents a generous herbal bouquet. Wafts of lavender, thyme, sage, and artemisia provide a stunning balance to the warm and rich notes lying deep within the scent. The warmth of amber, vanilla, and patchouli anchors the scent but doesn’t disrupt its clean and elegant persona. Laced with saffron and a dash of cinnamon, Amber Oud is sure to surprise you with its intriguing blend of grace and mystery.
As you can see, Luckyscent doesn’t mention oud once in their summation of the scent. On the other hand, I disagree with them on a few things: this is not a scent with “mystery,” I don’t think Amber Oud is really “clean” (thank God), and I’m a bit dubious about the “bubbly profile” bit. Yet, Luckyscent comes close in nailing the perfume’s essence. They are especially correct in noting the perfume’s golden touch infused with a generous herbal bouquet, and how patchouli is an anchor.
Source: 550px.com
Amber Oud opens on my skin with a bouquet that is, at once, herbal and sweet. Immediately, you are hit with the lavender which is simultaneously pungent, brisk, dried, sharp, but sweet and creamy. It is thoroughly infused with tonka, then dashes of golden warmth from the amber, and slivers of vanilla mousse.
From afar, it’s nothing but a tableau of lavender and creamy sweetness, but there are other elements woven in as well. There is a tiny touch of greenness from the other herbs, most noticeably sage. A quiet spiciness and very muted, abstract woodiness also linger at the edges. The latter has a dried, peppery, aromatic and sweet quality that clearly stems from the cedar. Lurking far, far in the background, if you really focus, you can pull out the red-gold threads of saffron, mostly from a faintly buttery, spicy undertone. In the same way, you can just barely make out the contours of cinnamon dusted on the vanilla mousse. However, it takes a great deal of concentration to tease out these nuances, for Amber Oud’s opening on my skin is primarily just lavender tonka vanilla.
Photo: Wanna Be A Country Cleaver, Megan Cleaver, via Tastykitchen.com
I normally despise lavender, shivering at its pungent harshness, its cologne-like briskness, its medicinal and soapy facets, but what a lavender it is here. Simply beautiful, and it just gets lovelier with time. The herbaceous quality of the flower loses much of its sharpness after 5 minutes, and turns more into lavender ice cream cocooned in a soft, golden glow. To the extent that there is “amber” in the fragrance, it really translates at this stage as a warm, deep richness upon which is anchored the dominant duo of lavender and tonka.
I find the whole thing utterly addictive, but I’d be the first to say that none of it is complicated, edgy, original, or even particularly oriental in feel. In fact, Amber Oud seems to straddle two categories — the herbal aromatic and the gourmand — without really falling into either one. And, for all that the perfume has sweetness, it never feels really gourmand to me. The tonka is just enough to cut through the lavender’s herbaceousness and stop it from being barber-shop pungent, sharp, or abrasive.
Artist unknown. Source: pinterest via eBay.
There is an incredible smoothness to the blend, and its seamless richness feels very luxurious. Amber Oud really evokes the best of Guerlain, because there is no doubt in my mind that the most expensive, high-quality ingredients have been used. (Minus the nonexistent oud note.) Initially, Amber Oud feels very concentrated and dense in its opening moments, like rich damask silk on the skin. Yet, the richness of the notes belies the perfume’s overall airiness and generally soft sillage. At first, Amber Oud’s projection is quite good. 3 tiny squirts from my wonky decant created a dense cloud of lavender cream that wafted 3 inches above the skin, but the sillage starts to soften and drop after only 20 minutes. By the end of the first hour, the perfume hovers just an inch above the skin.
Amber Oud shifts slowly and incrementally. After 30 minutes, the perfume is noticeably creamier, as the vanilla becomes more prominent. It combines with the tonka to create the silkiest, smoothest crème anglaise sauce into which the fragrant, aromatic lavender has been melted. It’s a sweetly spicy mix, shot through with subtle veins of cedar woodiness.
Source: abm-enterprises.net
At the end of the 1st hour, the perfume begins its shift into the second stage as a patchouli note seeps up from the base, adding an additional element of spicy warmth. Those of you who are phobic about patchouli, don’t worry. This is a really refined, smooth take on the note, thanks to the tonka. The overall effect reminds me of Serge Lutens‘ beautiful bell jar exclusive, Fourreau Noir, the only other lavender fragrance I have ever fallen for. There are differences, however. Amber Oud lacks Fourreau Noir’s dominant tendrils of black smoke; the lavender here is much smoother and softer; and the scent as a whole feels creamier, sweeter, and slightly denser.
By the end of the second hour, the patchouli and amber share center stage with the lavender cream. Amber Oud has lost its purple and vanilla hues, and turned thoroughly golden. The perfume is drier, and less vanillic, but the amber feels quite generalized at this stage, instead of actual labdanum amber with its particular, distinctive character. As a whole, Amber Oud is a warm, spicy sweet, herbal amber with vanilla and patchouli, and the tiniest flecks of cedar. It feels as though it’s about to turn into a skin scent at any moment, but that only occurs just before end of the 3rd hour.
Source: popularscreensavers.com
Amber Oud changes by such tiny degrees that you’re almost surprised when you suddenly realise that you’re wearing a patchouli-amber scent, infused with vanilla, and with only tiny streaks of the most abstract herbal bouquet. The dominant, main lavender ice-cream note of the beginning has largely faded away by the 2.75 hour mark, though you can still smell it in the background. Like fluid, liquid silk, the perfume flows into a new stage where the patchouli is increasingly the driving force behind the amber cloud, followed thereafter by tonka and vanilla. Small slivers of cedar dart about, lending far more dryness to the scent than initially existed, but the oud remains completely nonexistent.
Photo: Werner Kunz at photopoly.net
3.5 hours into its development, Amber Oud is a blur of spicy, sweet patchouli infused with a darker amber that is finally starting to resemble labdanum. The vanilla melts into the base, losing its distinctive edge, while the first whispers of the latter’s honeyed, toffee’d, dark aroma takes its place. The effect is to turn Amber Oud’s visuals from gold flecked with cream, to bronze and brown. From a distance, Amber Oud is not as easy to detect, but, up close you are struck by its cozy warmth, its silky spiciness, and its woody sweetness. Eventually, the labdanum shows its true nature with a darker warmth that turns Amber Oud all brown in hue. The perfume clings to the skin like the thinnest glaze of labdanum and patchouli, dusted over by a fine mist of tonka that feels a little bit powdered at times. In its final moments, Amber Oud is an abstract touch of warm, soft, slightly spicy, slightly woody sweetness.
Source: swirlydoos.com
All in all, Amber Oud lasted just short of 8 hours on my skin, with generally soft sillage after the 2 hour. I loved every bit of it, but particularly the opening 90 minutes with the lavender ice-cream. It felt incredibly soothing, a bouquet that would lull you to sleep in a wave of serenity. I thoroughly appreciated how neither the tonka and vanilla felt like a cloying ball of goo, along with the fact that there was almost no powder throughout Amber Oud’s lifetime. The golden haze of the later stages — with patchouli that is first flecked with vanilla, then with amber, and finally with true labdanum — was wonderful. Everything felt perfectly balanced, seamless, and rich.
Amber Oud is not perfect, however. I wish it had taken longer for the scent to turn sheer in weight and soft in projection, but that is a minor thing. The real issue with Amber Oud may be its price. The Parfums de Nicolaï line has always been very reasonably priced — intentionally so, in fact — but Amber Oud and its sibling, Rose Oud, cost quite a bit more. A tiny 30 ml bottle is priced at $78 or €58, while the large 100 ml/3.3 oz bottle costs $235 or €174. Presumably, the reasoning for putting the new Ouds at a much higher level than the rest of the line is the fact that they contain a “powerful” oud note. However, no-one I know who has tried Amber Oud has found it to be an “oud” fragrance. As you will see in a minute, many Fragrantica commentators can’t detect any oud at all. In short, I feel as though I’m being treated like an idiot when a perfume’s price is yanked up for a note that is basically nonexistent.
Is Amber Oud over-priced at $235 given its safe and largely simplistic nature? I think it’s going to come down to personal tastes. I would have said it was ridiculously priced the first time I smelled it when I detected nothing but lavender-vanilla for the first two hours. Yet, the perfume as a whole is beautiful, feels extremely luxurious, and is something that I feel like reaching for continuously when stressed. So, for me, the price is worth it, but I realise that it is a very subjective, personal calculation which will be different for each person. I would not be remotely surprised if a number of you found Amber Oud to be lovely, but far too simple or basic for $235. (As a side note, I realise that there is a much cheaper option at $78 for 30 ml, but that feels a little high for such a tiny size. Plus, this is a scent that I personally would want to use frequently and to spray with abandon; 30 ml wouldn’t cut it for that purpose.)
Kilian Amber Oud in the refill bottle. Source: Harvey Nichols.
Amber Oud is frequently compared to Kilian‘s Amber Oud, perhaps because the latter also contains virtually no oud. Personally, I don’t think the two perfumes are comparable except in terms of their overall feel. The Kilian fragrance doesn’t have any lavender or patchouli, and I didn’t detect any labdanum, merely a generalized “amber.” The price structure is different as well. Kilian’s Amber costs $185 for a 50 ml refill bottle, so it is much more expensive on a price-per-ml basis. (I’m not even getting into the full $385 cost for the proper, black, 50 ml bottle.)
On Fragrantica, a number of people find the Nicolaï Amber Oud to be much better than the Kilian fragrance, while a few strongly disagree. Personally, I’m not a fan of the very wispy Kilian version, so I’m with the first group. Below are a range of opinions on the Nicolaï scent:
- Its a very nice Amber+Oud combination. In comparison with Amber Oud by KILIAN, I have to say that Ms. Nicolai perfume is much better (as smell, longevity, projection & price). I think I made a mistake by buying the small bottle. 2 thumbs up
- Similar to Amber Oud by KILIAN, But to me Nicolai is much better. Great scent, happy to have in my collection
- I’m a little bit disappointed. You can’t detect the oud, and the amber note is not prominent in the opening nor in the dry down. Also the longevity is a bit poor on my skin. [¶] To me, you can’t even compare this with the Amber Oud of By Kilian! The Kilian version is supreme!! But then, everyone has his own taste. Beside all that, the fragrance has a pleasent smell!
- Nice surprise!!! I was expecting the ordinary but… Wow! Yes yes, it is Much more AMBER LAVENDER than AMBER OUD! But still so lovely! [¶] Smells soft and wonderful on skin… On me lasts 6-8 hours! Good projection too! [¶] Just one advice: if you’re looking for “the most prominent and strongest” Oud (that I particularly dislike)… Go look another place!
- This smells incredible. [¶] Very good quality scent and very well blended. [¶] If you like sweet-oriental frags. or amber fragances, you must try this.
Longevity and sillage are both moderate-low.
scent: 9/10
longevity: 6/10
sillage: 5/10
P.D.: The bad thing is the price…..
photo: 123rf.com
On Luckyscent, there are only two reviews, one of which is from a woman who thought the perfume’s herbaceousness rendered Amber Oud more masculine than unisex in nature:
This is not a unisex scent. I bought a sample of this to compare to By Kilian’s Amber Oud, which I really like. As soon as I first put it on, it immediately smelled like a strong men’s cologne. It brings to mind an upscale version of Old Spice, but also with some green notes to it, probably from the sage and thyme. I wouldn’t mind smelling this on a man, though. I passed the sample on to my husband.
The Perfume Shrine talks about both the issue of masculinity and the oud, though they categorize the last situation differently than I do:
Amber Oud by de Nicolai however is oud prowling in kitten’s paws, so delicate and purring you might be mistaken for thinking there is some problem with the labeling. Because Amber Oud is mostly a glorious aromatic amber fragrance with copious helpings of premium grade lavender fanned on resinous, plush notes of velvet. […][¶]
In Patricia de Nicolai’s Amber Oud the blast of lavender at the beginning is the dominant force which takes you by surprise and which might make women think this is more men’s gear than girly girl stuff. But they need not fear. Gents and ladies alike will appreciate the seamless procession into a balsamic smelling nucleus. […] Seekers of oud (lured by the name) might feel cheated and there is no eye-catching innovativeness in the formula itself, but de Nicolai is continuing on a path of wearable, presentable, smooth perfumes that have earned her brand a steady following.
Source: wallpaperweb.org
The Non-Blonde has a similar assessment:
The first thing to notice about Nicolai’s Amber Oud and Rose Oud is that they don’t smell very oudy. […][¶]
Amber Oud doesn’t smell particularly ambery, especially compared to the Oriental fantasy of Kilian’s perfume with the same name. It’s actually a very herbal-aromatic concoction, like a darkened and deepened fougere that still maintains the bones of a great and classic men’s cologne. It took me a couple of testings to really find the oud in this perfume, but it’s there, hiding right behind the spicy front put by saffron and cinnamon. It’s instantly likable, decidedly fresh, and very refined. Amber Oud probably suits and appeals to me more than it does for women. I just wish it wasn’t so safe.
I agree, Amber Oud is very safe, but I didn’t find it to be half as herbal-aromatic as she did. On my skin, that phase was only a small portion of the scent, and always festooned by copious vanilla and tonka to create lavender ice-cream more than a fresh aromatic scent. Plus, the main heart of the Amber Oud was patchouli, followed by a resinous labdanum finish at the end. As for the hiding wood note, I found that it was always cedar, not oud.
Clearly, skin chemistry is going to make a difference in terms of what you experience, and how unisex it may be. Similarly, personal valuation will determine if the end result is too simplistic for the price, or cozy comfort that is well worth it. All I can say is that lovers of lavender, amber, and patchouli, as well as Kilian’s Amber Oud, should really try the Nicolaï version. I absolutely love its serene, soothing warmth and luxurious comfort.
DETAILS:
Cost & Availability: Amber Oud is an eau de parfum that comes in two sizes. There is a tiny 30 ml/1 oz bottle that costs $78 or €58, and there is a large 100 ml/3.3 oz bottle that costs $235 or €174. In the U.S.: Luckyscent sells both sizes of the perfume, and also offers samples. Beautyhabit only carries the small 30 ml size. Same story with Parfum1, but they sell samples for $4. OsswaldNY has some of the Parfums de Nicolai line, but not the two new Oud fragrances. Outside the U.S.: For Canadian readers, the US-based Perfume Shoppe carries the Parfums de Nicolaï line, but I don’t see Amber Oud on their website. In the U.K., Parfums de Nicolaï has a shop in London on Fulham Road. You can check the Store Link below for the exact address. For all European readers, you can order directly from Parfums de Nicolaï which sells Amber Oud for €58 and €178, depending on size. In France, the company has numerous boutiques, especially in Paris. First in Fragrance sells the large 100 ml bottle for €159.66. In the Netherlands, ParfuMaria carries both sizes of Amber Oud, as does Annindriya’s Perfume Lounge. In Spain, the PdN line is sold at Ruiz de Ocenda, but I don’t see the new Ouds listed. In Hungary, I found both sizes of Amber Oud at Neroli. For other locations in France and the address of the London store, you can turn to the Nicolai Store Listing. It doesn’t show any vendors outside France or the UK. I found no stores carrying the line in Asia, the Middle East, or Australia. Samples: Samples of Amber Oud are available from Luckyscent or Parfum1. Surrender to Chance does not carry it at this time.
LM Parfums Vol d’Hirondelle
Source: Fragrantica
The tart, refreshing briskness of citruses that turn creamy and sweet from jasmine and rose in a blend that is nestled upon a bed of woody musk– that is the essence of Vol d’Hirondelle from LM Parfums. Vol d’Hirondelle is an eau de parfum that was released in 2012, and created as a tribute to a friend of Laurent Mazzone, LM Parfums’ founder. I suspect it’s meant to be a loving gesture in memory of the Mona di Orio who was a very close friend of Laurent Mazzone and who died in late 2011. The perfume’s name means “Flight of the Swallow,” a delicate bird who I think is meant to symbolize the later perfumer.
Source: Premiere Avenue.
LM Parfums describes Vol d’Hirondelle and its notes as follows:
Inspired by a painting, Vol d’Hirondelle is a precious tribute to a close friend of Laurent Mazzone.
– Top Notes: Hespéride, Lemon, Bergamot, Mandarin, Paraguay Petitgrain, Rosewood, Davana.
– Heart Notes: Rose, Jasmine, Orange tree, spices
– Base notes: Vetiver, Musks
Source: kitchendaily.com
Vol d’Hirondelle opens on my skin with a blast of crisp, chilled citruses in a sea of yellow and green that is infused with flecks of bitter petitgrain, woodiness, vetiver, and clean musk. The perfume feels thin but extremely potent, cool and refreshing, but also clean. The tangy, green, extremely tart lemon almost verges on a lime, but is countered by a richer bergamot. There are light hints of a sweet, syrupy jasmine, a dash of apricot davana, and a smidgeon of orange. The whole thing is nestled in a very woody, twiggy embrace that is thoroughly infused with a sharp, clean musk.
Davana. Source: hermitageoils.com/davana-essential-oil
Some of the elements are very pretty. I’m a sucker for davana, which I think is sorely underused in perfumery. It is a rich, opulent flower from India that has the smell of juicy, warm, sweet apricots. Here, the note has a faintly tropical, floral feel as well which contrasts sharply with the cool, almost icy, tart lemons. Piquant, bitter, lightly peppered petitgrain weaves its way through the citruses which feel very concentrated in nature, almost as if their absolute essences were used. The jasmine adds a light touch of sweetness, but the main focal point of Vol d’Hirondelle’s opening is definitely the hesperidic notes and aromatic woodiness.
Source: merlyimpressions.co.uk
There are other aspects that I find less enchanting. I cannot stand white musk. At all. And I always think renders a perfume quite commercial in feel. Here, the note doesn’t smell soapy or cheap, so, thankfully, the combination with the lemon doesn’t evoke lemon dish washing soap, but the clean musk is still far too strong for my liking. It doesn’t help that my skin really amplifies the bloody ingredient, which is perhaps why it smells so sharp, potent, and intense in the case of Vol d’Hirondelle.
I also have to confess that neither citrus fragrances nor citrus woody musks do much for me as a general genre, so I’m not hugely enamoured by the overall combination here. It’s pleasant, and I like the davana, along with the growing sweetness from the orange, but Vol d’Hirondelle is simply not one of those fragrance categories that moves me much. Honestly, I’m blaming most of it on the white musk which is something that I simply cannot move past.
Lemon Mousse Parfait by Mary Bergfeld on One Perfect Bite blogspot. (Link to website with recipe embedded within photo.)
The perfume starts to shift a little after 5 minutes. The citruses feel warmer, heavier, and deeper, losing some of their crispness. Vol d’Hirondelle feels less thin, green and watery, more yellowed and sunny. The vetiver begins to flex its muscles, smelling both fresh and somewhat mineralized. Whispers of orange dance around, next to a tiny touch of warm rosewood, while the musk loses some of its early sharpness.
After 20 minutes, Vol d’Hirondelle turns smoother and creamier. The lemons, bergamot, and orange feel inundated with a velvety richness, probably from the tropical, lush davana mixed with the sweet jasmine. Yet, the perfume never reads as a floral scent at this stage because the citruses continue to dominate and be Vol d’Hirondelle’s main focal point. The petitgrain, vetiver, and woody notes work indirectly to anchor the tart, brisk, hesperidic elements, but they generally feel abstract on my skin and are not clearly delineated in a significant, individual manner.
The florals finally burst onto center stage at the end of the first hour. At first, it’s just a light touch of rose, but by the 90 minute mark, Vol d’Hirondelle is thoroughly imbued with a jammy, rose sweetness. In its trail is a slightly peppered, woody note that resembles cedar. The sweet, pink rose mixes with the warm citruses, bitter petitgrain, and white musk to create the dominant bouquet. In their footsteps is the sweet jasmine, a subtle spiciness, creaminess, and an abstract, amorphous woodiness.
Painting: Anastasiia Grygorieva. Source: artmajeur.com
Vol d’Hirondelle remains largely unchanged for the next few hours. The notes occasionally rearrange themselves so that some of the secondary players are more noticeable, but the perfume’s core essence never swerves from being a floral, citric musk with some woodiness. All that really happens is that the perfume turns more abstract, the notes blend into each other, everything turns a little hazy, and the sillage changes. From the start of the 3rd hour until the beginning of the 6th one, Vol d’Hirondelle’s primary note is rose infused with creamy citruses. After that point, the jasmine takes over, but the perfume is such a seamless blend that the end result really just translates to some “floral, woody musk.” In its final moments, Vol d’Hirondelle is a simple smear of creamy jasmine with some white musk.
Source: es.123rf.com
All in all, Vol d’Hirondelle lasted 10.75 hours on my skin with generally good sillage. Using 3 small sprays from an actual bottle, the perfume initially projected 3-4 inches above the skin in a very concentrated but airy, sheer bouquet. At the end of the 2nd hour, the sillage dropped half that amount. Vol d’Hirondelle was almost a skin scent at the 4.5 hour mark, but was still easy to detect and strong up close. It became a true skin scent after 5.5 hours, and remained that way until its end. When I used a smaller quantity of perfume, amounting to 3 smears from a dab bottle, Vol d’Hirondelle became a skin scent on me at the end of the 3rd hour, the sillage was softer, but the perfume lasted close to the same amount of time. Again, my skin amplifies perfumes that contain white musk, and clings onto them like mad, so you may experience a softer, lighter fragrance.
I think Vol d’Hirondelle is nice, but I find it hard to shake off the feeling that it is really an upscale version of a designer scent but with more expensive ingredients and a slightly more refined touch. I have a huge soft spot for LM Parfums, especially as it makes the scent that is my absolute favorite modern perfume in existence, Hard Leather. It is the first scent has come close to matching the instant, unbridled intensity of my reaction the first time I smelled vintage Opium. No other modern perfume has captured my heart so instantaneously in that same visceral way and to quite the same degree. And I’m mad about Sensual Orchid as well, a perfume that was my first introduction to the LM Parfums line and essentially set the bar for everything that followed.
As a result, I expect a lot from LM Parfums, but Vol d’Hirondelle is not it. I realise that is unfair and that it is partially a personal issue in this case, given my indifference to citric fragrances or floral, woody musks. Yet, there have been perfumes in both genres that I have somewhat enjoyed. I think the problem here is that Vol d’Hirondelle represented an earlier LM Parfums, one that was finding its feet as a new house and without the guiding hand of Mona di Orio who created many of its original fragrances. I think LM Parfums has a much clearer, stronger, bolder identity now with a very different sort of perfume aesthetic that suits me much better. I realise all those things, but I still think that Vol d’Hirondelle smells largely generic. A safe, nice, refined take on a designer scent, yes, and even pretty on occasion with the nice creaminess that ensues — but generic nonetheless.
Source: hdw.eweb4.com
On Fragrantica, the majority of commentators like Vol d’Hirondelle, though there are only 4 reviews in total at this time. Some of the comments, all of which come from men, are as follows:
- Green,citrusy, slightly powdery,very generic. I have smelled before.
- i wear it in springtime and can’t get enough of it!
- reminds me of lighter version of Ververine James Heeley
rly good! man can weare it to
Painting by Jill Hackney at www.jillhackney.com
The longest assessment of Vol d’Hirondelle is a very positive review which reads:
Tried it, tested it and bought it today [.][¶] Fell in love with the brand this summer. Really wanted the Sensual Orchid One but at £195 way over my budget. (worth every penny though)
This one is a fresher yet dense and complex concotion of all kinds of citrus fruits, rosewood, vetiver and that green petitgrain. Very nice rose note in there as well.
To me probably the best citrus themed fragrance that has an unusual and exotic complexity that is hard to achieve with a construction of citrus.
Superb and long-lasting. Not too heavy and not flighty either.
A brilliant and very exclusive product that very few people wear.
For the fragrance lover that is hard to impress.
Eh, we shall have to agree to disagree on a lot of that. From his entire review, the only sentiment with which I fully concur is that Sensual Orchid is fantastic and worth every penny.
Source: backdropsforyourlife.wordpress.com
On the other hand, Vol d’Hirondelle is a much easier, more approachable fragrance than many in the LM Parfums line. It is safer because it is largely generic, and not as interesting, bold, or intense. It lacks the quirky uniqueness of something like Patchouly Boheme; the ripely opulent, over-the-top, tropical and boozy headiness of Sensual Orchid; the unusual bites or contrasts of Ambre Muscadin. It’s hardly as refined, smooth, or expensive-smelling as Black Oud. And it’s in a completely different galaxy entirely from Hard Leather.
Vol d’Hirondelle is more wearable on a daily basis than all of those perfumes. It is one of those scents that may be perfect for Spring, if you’re looking for something simple, uncomplicated, or pleasantly pretty. If you love citrus scents that are infused with florals or basic floral woody musks, this would qualify. Vol d’Hirondelle is generally unisex for the most part, though the more floral stage skews slightly into feminine territory, in my opinion. Obviously, however, there are men on Fragrantica who think otherwise.
If you want something pleasant, give Vol d’Hirondelle a sniff.
Disclosure: Perfume provided courtesy of LM Parfums. That did not impact this review. I do not do paid reviews, my opinions are my own, and my first obligation is honesty to my readers.
DETAILS:
Cost & Availability: Vol d’Hirondelle is an eau de parfum that is available only in a 100 ml/3.4 oz bottle which costs $175, €135, or £135. In the U.S.: LM Parfums is exclusive to Osswald NYC. They currently have Vol d’Hirondelle in stock but, if, at some point in the future, the link doesn’t work, it’s because Osswald takes down a perfume’s page when they’re temporarily out, then puts it back up later. Outside the U.S.: you can buy Vol d’Hirondelle directly from LM Parfums. In addition, they offer large decant samples of all LM Parfums eau de parfums which are priced at €14 for 5 ml size. LM Parfums also owns Premiere Avenue which sells both Vol d’Hirondelle and the 5 ml decant. It ships worldwide. In the UK, the LM Parfums line is exclusive to Harvey Nichols. They sell Vol d’Hirondelle for £135. In Paris, LM Parfums are sold at Jovoy. In the Netherlands, you can find Vol d’Hirondelle at ParfuMaria. The LM Parfums line is also available at Silks Cosmetics. In Germany, First in Fragrance has Vol d’Hirondelle for €125, along with the full LM Parfums line, and sells samples as well. You can also find LM Parfums at Essenza Nobile, and Italy’s Alla Violetta. In the Middle East, I found most of the LM Parfums line at the UAE’s Souq perfume site. For all other countries, you can find a vendor near you from Switzerland to Belgium, Lithuania, Russia, Romania, Croatia, Azerbaijan, and more, by using the LM Parfums Partner listing. Laurent Mazzone or LM Parfums fragrances are widely available throughout Europe, and many of those sites sell samples as well. Samples: A number of the sites listed above offer vials for sale. In the U.S., none of the decanting sites carry LM Parfums, but Osswald NYC has a special deal for U.S. customers if you call (212) 625-3111. Any 10 samples of any 10 fragrances in 1 ml vials is $20 with free shipping. You can try the LM Parfums line that way.
Tauer Perfumes Eau d’Epices
An ode to orange blossom, done the Tauer way: dusted with spices, smoked with frankincense, turned black and rubbery with elevated indoles, sweetened with candy, and infused with amber. That’s Eau d’Epices (sometimes called L’Eau d’Epices or No. 12 – L’Eau d’Épices) an eau de parfum from Tauer Perfumes.
Photo: Hypoluxe.
Eau d’Epices was originally released in 2010 and has just been re-released. I’ve sought specific clarification on the timeline of events, and whether the sample I received was from a new batch or formula. I’ve been repeatedly assured that it is not. According to Hypoluxe, Tauer’s American distributor, Andy Tauer created one batch of Eau d’Epices in 2010 which sold out by 2012. He held off on creating more to see how customers responded to the scent, and only recently decided to create more. So, again, the formula is said to be identical, and there should be no question of batch variations.
Orange Blossom. Photo: GardenPictures via Zuoda.net
The press release for Eau d’Epices describes the perfume as follows:
One of Tauer’s favorite naturals, orange blossoms absolute, plays a central role in this scent that is unique and original. Natural oils from spices orchestrate an opening that is vibrant, and warm. Red mandarin softens the spices and prepare for the orange blossoms that bloom in l’eau d’épices together with another white flower: Jasmin. Frankincense essential oil leads over to a classical Tauer base chord featuring ambergris, tonka, hints of vetiver and the woody warm perfume of cistus ladaniferus resin, resembling a walk in a pineta.
HEAD NOTES
An Indian basket of spices with cinnamon, cardamom, clove and corriander with red mandarines.
HEART NOTES
An opulent heart of orange blossom, jasmine, orris root and incense.
BODY NOTES
A woody cistus ladaniferus resin, softened with ambergris, tonka beans and vetiver.
I tested Eau d’Epices twice, using different quantities and experienced two very different opening phases. The perfume eventually ended up in the same place, but the focal point was quite different in each test, especially in the beginning.
VERSION ONE:
Smarties. Source: imgarcade.com
The first time, I used 2 small sprays from my atomizer, and the dominant aroma on my skin was candy sweets. Specifically, Sweet Tarts (or SweeTarts) and Smarties, with a touch of the exploding, fizzy Pop Rocks. All the candies have a very sweet aroma that is powdered. Here, however, the Sweet Tarts of Eau d’Epices’ start was also accompanied by a brief lemony touch from the coriander and a hint of red fruits (more like berries). Hot on their heels was jasmine, sticky orange, flickers of vetiver, a whisper of orange blossom, and dark spices, all on an amber base.
SweeTarts candies via Wikipedia.
The jasmine’s initial burst quickly receded, leaving a bouquet that was almost entirely Sweet Tarts with orange sherbet that had been dusted with cinnamon. There were tiny pinches of cardamom and cloves, but the cinnamon ruled them both on my skin. The orange blossom never really showed up as a floral note the way one normally encounters it, and the frankincense was barely perceptible. The whole thing was extremely sweet, but also playful and whimsical in a fun way.
Source: itsybitsyfoodies.com
For the first hour, the cinnamon orange sherbet and powdered Sweet Tarts ruled almost unimpeded by the other notes. Then, the spice bouquet became stronger, with the clove slowly creeping to the foreground. Much more significant was the vetiver which, on my skin, often manifests a minty freshness. It did so here with Eau d’Epices, too. As the vetiver swirled into the syrupy sweetness of the fruity sherbet, it felt almost candied in a way that was quite enjoyable.
About 2.5 hours in, Eau d’Epices starts to shift more dramatically. My skin often amplified or clings onto vetiver, and Eau d’Epices was no exception. The vetiver begins to take over the dominant position, trailed by the spice-dusted orange sherbet, the candied notes and the amber. The candy feels almost more like Cinnamon Red Hots now, instead of Sweet Tarts but there is still a powdered quality to the note. (It’s undoubtedly from the orris.) Slowly, slowly, the amber rises to the surface, and Eau d’Epices begins to turn into a scent that is labdanum amber with minty vetiver. The perfume feels simultaneously resinous, candied, sweet, and dusted with spices.
Photo: My own.
At the start of the 5th hour, Eau d’Epices is a highly blended scent that is largely dominated by the “Tauerade” signature base. That particular accord is quite identifiable, as it always features a darkly resinous amber which is simultaneously somewhat woody, sharp, smoky, and sweet.
Here, it is infused with vetiver and cinnamon candies. Again, my skin has a tendency to bring out vetiver to an unusual degree, and to cling onto it like mad, especially if it is Haitian vetiver with its minty undertones. You may not necessarily experience the same thing. At Eau d’Epices’ edges are lingering whispers of orange sherbet, but they fade away entirely as the hours pass. By the end of the 7th hour, Eau d’Epices is a whisper of resinous Tauerade with vetiver and a light sprinkling of tonka powder. In its final moments, the perfume is merely a blur of Tauerade amber.
All in all, Eau d’Epices lasted just short of 10.75 hours on me during the first test with 2 small sprays from my atomizer. The perfume was always incredibly concentrated in feel and potent, especially up close. Eau d’Epices only turned into a skin scent on me at the start of the 4th hour, but it was still easily detectable without much effort until the 8th hour.
VERSION TWO:
Photo: My own.
The second time I tested Eau d’Epices, I applied 4 sprays from my atomizer, amounting to 2 proper sprays from an actual bottle. The result was something that I think was much more true to what Eau d’Epices is meant to be, as it was a scent that was fully dominated by orange blossoms.
My second test of Eau d’Epices opened with orange blossoms and orange, followed by sticky resins, loads of cinnamon, sweetened powder, and hints of both cloves and lemony coriander. The perfume again smelled of Sweet Tarts and candy, but the orange blossom was only inches away this time and soon took over completely. It was very sharp, fresh, and indolic with a blackened heart of sticky resins and smoky leather. Frankincense swirled all around, and it too had a sharp bite that contrasted quite deeply with the candied feel.
This version of Eau d’Epices was powerfully indolic. Indoles are put out by white flowers like orange blossom as a signal to bees and, in their most undiluted form, can smell either rubbery, mentholated, fecal, a little urinous, plasticky, or like mothballs. Here, with Eau d’Epices, the indoles smell exactly like mothballs — something I’ve only experienced once before with a scent that used a lot of absolutes and that barely diluted the indolic element. At the same time, there is a very mentholated tonality to Eau d’Epices that almost fizzes. Something about the perfume’s opening feels as if actual menthol was used in the way that it was with YSL‘s vintage Champagne (Yvresse), though the fizziness here tickles the nose far more than in that fruity floriental.
Source: Forwallpaper.com
Eau d’Epices shifts after 5 minutes. Hints of jasmine appear, weaving throughout the top notes and adding even more sweetness to the bouquet. The cloves and cinnamon grow stronger, while the coriander and cardamom retreat to the sidelines. As a whole, the spices feel much less dominant in this version of Eau d’Epices, while the florals and frankincense are significantly more powerful. The impression of orange sherbet and Sweet Tarts is significantly less prominent this time around, as well.
Photo: Huffington post
As a whole, Eau d’Epices is a very sharp, smoky, blackened, candied and syrupy floral bouquet dominated by orange blossom. It is thoroughly infused by mothball-like indoles on the top, with smoky, rubbery, almost leathered, smoky nuances underneath. The smokiness is further amplified by the sharp frankincense, and then the whole thing is dusted with cloves and cinnamon. It’s a powerful, massive bouquet that initially projects 5-6 inches with the 4 atomizer sprays.
Eau d’Epices changes over the next few hours, but only incrementally. The vetiver becomes prominent at the end of the first hour, weaving its way throughout the orange blossom. The latter is so rich, it feels almost boozy at times. At the start of the second hour, Eau d’Epices turns noticeably warmer and deeper, as the amber slowly begins to rise from the base. The flowers lose that menthol fizziness, though much of their indolic blackness remains. As a whole, Eau d’Epices is more powerfully floral, with only a little sweet sherbet; the spices seem stronger; and the perfume feels more golden in hue.
By the end of the 4th hour, Eau d’Epices is a bouquet of vetiver and indolic, mentholated orange blossom, followed by sharp incense, sweet jasmine, hints of sweetened candy powder, and cinnamon over a sticky, woody amber base. The perfume feels sharp and rough, but also soft, and it hovers an inch above the skin.
Eau d’Epices’ core bouquet remains unchanged for hours and hours, shifting only in the prominence and order of its notes. The jasmine retreats to the sidelines; the spices turn nebulous and abstract; the frankincense feels stronger; and the vetiver takes over center stage with the orange blossom. The sharp, woody, smoky, Tauerade ambered base looks on from the wings, but it joins the two leading players at the end of the 8th hour. Eau d’Epices turns into a simple triptych of orange blossom, vetiver, and Tauerade.
Photo by Jianwei Yang, I think. Source: bhwords.com
It remains that way for hours, merely growing more nebulous and abstract, until it fades away entirely in a blur of woody-smoked-amber lightly flecked with vetiver. All in all, Eau d’Epices lasted 14.5 hours with the equivalent of 2 proper sprays from a bottle. As a side note, that quantity of Eau d’Epices created a bouquet that was so concentrated and strong, it was almost too much so for me — and I love potent scents. So you may want to go easy on the application.
ALL IN ALL:
I’ve read in a few places that Eau d’Epices is supposed to be a “love it/hate it” scent, but I don’t feel either emotion. I don’t like it, but I certainly don’t hate it. I simply got tired of Eau d’Epices’ indolic bombast and overall untrammelled intensity. I blame my own skin for much of that, as it always amplifies base notes. (It also seems to take vetiver to ridiculous extremes.)
Photo: My own.
For the most part, though, Eau d’Epices simply perplexes me. It’s really not what I expected. Given the name and the description of the notes, I had expected “a spice basket,” but ended up instead with Sweet Tarts and orange sherbet, or with mothball orange blossoms, sharp incense and minty vetiver. I really dislike the mothball aspect of the indoles, and that turned out to be my greatest issue, along with Eau d’Epices’ overall sharpness. Even the Tauerade base to both versions felt too sharp and raw for me, unlike that which I’ve experienced in other Tauer orientals. Jeffrey Dame of Hypoluxe tried to tell me that the sample I received had been freshly prepared 30 days ago, so the perfume may not have settled and continued to be very fresh. Perhaps.
On Fragrantica, reviews are mixed for Eau d’Epices. I was interested to read the most recent review from just a few days ago which says that the perfume smells “rough”:
Amouage Reflection Man meets Mrs. Dash. I’d say it’s a match made in Heaven, but it smells rough.
Mark Rothko, “Untitled (Violet, Black, Orange, Yellow on White and Red),” 1949.
I have to agree, but another chap wrote a veritable paean to Eau d’Epices just a week before with which I also agree to some extent:
One of the most-brilliant compositions I have ever smelt! Definitely orange-blossom dominates (with a hint of tuberose?), but it is bent and molded into something quite-different and unexpected with an overlay of spices (Ceylon cinnamon is, to my nose, strongest, followed by cloves, and then coriander seed), while the lower, “wood-like” facets of the flower’s essential oil are entwined like loving roots into vetiver and frankincense- it is hard to find where orange-blossom begins and ends, it is that well-married… I also sense a hint of linden-blossom bonding quite well with the “green-grassiness” of vetiver, expanding, diluting the sweet nature of the white-floral heart.
The effect is striking, with a definite character of its own. It reminds me a little of ‘Poeme’, but is not so “round and soft”: there is a “masculine”, assertive edge to Eau d’Epices- despite it’s strong floral character- which makes it, in my opinion, fairly unisex… and, also, quite oriental. Anyone with a modest attar-collection would probably not be shocked so much by this fragrance, but I can see many women of mainstream-western taste being put off by the rich, resin-backed spiciness, and just as many men being put off by the bold use of a sweet white floral. It toys with gender. It is not a crowd-pleaser by any means; it retains its unapologetic integrity throughout its long evaporation, and could be a strong, unmistakeable signature for a self-assured person.
I think he’s right a lot of points, even if we feel differently about the overall effect. The orange blossom is indeed well-married and thoroughly blended into all the other notes, and Eau d’Epices is an unapologetically dark, spicy, very unisex blend that may appeal to those who love very concentrated fragrances.
For one woman on Fragrantica, the dark, resinous base was not the problem so much as the spices:
It sprayed on with promise, a number of sharp notes appeared initially and then it dried down to a yoga studio/head shop type scent on my skin. From there eau d’epices developed into a really cloying mix of overly sweet spices. I ultimately had to scrub it and spend some time outside in a cool breeze to clear my nose.
Photo: David Hare via open.za
For The Non-Blonde, however, the spices in Eau d’Epices created a scent that was “gorgeous.” Her 2010 review begins by noting how there is no cumin in the scent, then states:
Now that we established that Eau d’Epices is not Tauer’s answer to Arabie and its back alleys of the Souk, let’s talk about what it is (other than gorgeous). This is a classic Tauer in the sense of offering the familiar Tauerade accord in the dry-down: a balsamic cistus, ambergris and a dry woody thing in the background, but the potent potion is less assertive at first and gives a lot of breathing room both to the spicy opening and to the incredibly sensual floral heart. Eau d”epices is breathtakingly complex and requires a lot of attention the first few times you smell it. The fragrance takes you on an exotic journey and fills your mind with all kinds of Arabian Nights imagery[….][¶]
The thing is that once you make friends with this colorful vision, Eau d’Epice becomes warm easy to wear. Yes, one must love incense and spice, not to mention the Tauer accord, but if you do, this masterfully crafted and blended perfume is a must-try for both men and women.
To that list of requirements, I would also add “very indolic white florals.” Yes, you have to love both the Tauerade signature base and a lot of spices, but the core of Eau d’Epices is the orange blossom absolute — in all of its manifestations. And that includes indoles. Even if you don’t experience the mothball note, you are likely to face one (or more) of its other characteristics.
So, give Eau d’Epices a try if you love orange blossoms, spices, incense, and dark resinous Orientals.
Disclosure: Perfume courtesy of Hypoluxe, the U.S. distributor for Tauer Perfumes. That did not influence this review, I do not do paid reviews, and my opinions are my own.