LM Parfums Hard Leather: Lust In The Woods

Posted on December 4, 2013 by Kafkaesque

Source: Tumblr. Original artist or site unknown.

Sex. Seduction. The scent of a man in leather and smoke. The softness of a woman in sandalwood and vanilla. Musky figures entwined on a rumpled bed, in a room filled with the black swirls of incense. The smell of his neck, his chin rough with dry stubble, and the lingering traces of rum on his mouth. Her body golden, smooth, covered with honey, and damp with sweat. Hardness, softness, and always, pure animal sensuality.

The images that come to my mind when Hard Leather first opens on my skin are wholly inappropriate for further description. But it happens each time I smell the new fragrance from by LM Parfums. In the past, seduction has come to mind with a few fragrances that I’ve tried this year, notably Hard Leather’s older sister, Sensual Orchid, and Amouage‘s Fate Woman, but nothing quite like this. Nothing quite so animalic, so overt. This is not about coy, flirtatious seduction, but steamy intimacy.

Source: timeslive.co.za

For me, the opening hour of Hard Leather is primal, purely sexual, and it impacted me immediately from the very first time I smelled it. It made me quite lose my cool, despite being with the actual perfumer in the most haughtily snobbish, constipated place in all of Paris. And every time I’ve worn it since, it makes me feel quite heated. In short, Hard Leather has one of the best openings of any perfume I’ve smelled this year. In many a year, actually. The rest of the fragrance is not quite as glorious, primarily due to a middle phase that I struggle with a little, but the perfume is still incredibly well done as a whole and I think a lot of men are going to love it.

Hard Leather is set to release some time this week or the next in France, so I thought it was time for a full, proper review, beyond just my cursory, initial ravings. [Update: The perfume was officially released a few hours after the posting of this review, and is now available for sale.] Hard Leather is pure parfum with 20% fragrance oils, and part of LM Parfum’s new line called The Intimacy Collection. The press release description sent to me states that Hard Leather’s olfactory pyramid includes:

Top Notes: Rum, Leather.

Heart Notes: Iris, Honey.

Base Notes: Sandalwood, Cedarwood, Oud, Frankincense, Styrax and Vanilla.

Smoke #6 by Stefan Bonazzi. (Website link embedded within photo,.)

When you smell Hard Leather from the sprayer on the bottle, you are hit with a wave of black incense that is almost fiery and piercing. It is followed by smoky, sweet oud that smells as though it were taken straight from an extremely old agarwood tree in Laos. On its heels is a powerful, intense sandalwood that is most definitely the real, spicy, glorious, and very rare kind from Mysore. There is a dustiness, a dryness to the wood-incense combination, but also a patina of sweetness. To my nose, the aroma evokes both the incense-sandalwood profile of my beloved vintage Opium, as well as the much drier, dustier, more fiery incense-sandalwood-oud combination of Neela Vermeire‘s Trayee. But you can’t judge a perfume by its bottle aroma, any more than you can a book by its cover.

Source: Tumblr. Original source or photographer unknown.

Hard Leather opens on my skin with an initial whiff of honey and genuine Mysore sandalwood, then a powerful, potent burst of animalic, raw, musky leather. It’s as though a light coat of honey was thinly layered over raw animal hides left in the sun, which are then drenched with musk. The leather is initially like that in Montale‘s Aoud Cuir d’Arabie, before it turns into something midway between Aoud Cuir d’Arabie and Serge Lutens‘ glorious Cuir Mauresque. By the same token, the musk is similar to that in Serge Lutens‘ Muscs Koublai Khan (hereinafter “MKK“), only rounder and generally softer. It has the most fleeting urinous edge, but far less than the Lutens had on my skin. I’m generally not one for very raw, extremely animalic leather, but, my God, it’s sexy here. It’s leather with the scent of skin, heated and musky after sex, lightly drizzled with honey, and wrapped up with tendrils of black incense.

On skin, the oud initially lurks behind the leather, but it rears its head after a few minutes. It smells exactly like the aged Laotian kind used in such expensive lines as Xerjoff, and Laurent Mazzone confirmed to me that it is indeed aged Asian agarwood. The wonderful difference, here, is that the oud never smells fecal, or (even worse) like rotting gorgonzola, the way that Laotian agarwood can sometimes be in perfumery. Instead, it’s smooth, with a bit of that “noble rot” funk that is true to real oud. It’s also sweet, thanks to the honey, and slightly smoking from the incense. The oud is blended perfectly with the other woods in Hard Leather, from the slightly musky, dry cedar, to the gloriously rich, smooth, spicy sandalwood. The latter most definitely smells like the real stuff, and judging by the Robertet name on my tiny decant and the fact that they deal with the most expensive raw materials, I suspect Mr. Mazzone spent a fortune ensuring he got actual, red Mysore instead of some generic beige wood or green Australian “sandalwood.”

Source: 123people.es

The final result is an opening that I find to be utterly addictive, a smoldering cocktail of raw, steamy sex appeal. It’s as though Serge Lutens’ Cuir Mauresque mixed with MKK, Neela Vermeire’s Trayee, Montale’s Aoud Cuir d’Arabie, and a dash of vintage Opium’s drydown, only the final result is ramped up by a hundred. It’s Lawrence of Arabia’s swarthy, musky sheikhs, with Turkish harem concubines clothed only in tendrils of incense, having sex in the ancient agar forests of Laos under freshly tanned, cured leather coated in honey and sandalwood.

Yet, for all that the notes may sound aggressive or too much, Hard Leather’s opening is utterly seamless and perfectly blended. The notes fluidly move one into the other, each transforming the next, with no hard edges, roughness, or spiky, prickly bits. In this phase, the incense may be the sharpest thing about the fragrance, waging a war of blackness on the sexual musk and leather, as if to drag the lovers to a Chinese temple. One thing I’ve noticed is that Hard Leather is a fragrance where less is sometimes more at the start, because two big sprays can be quite intense.

Thirty minutes in, Hard Leather starts to shift. The leather loses some of its rawness, turning richer, and more burnished. The musk softens too, feeling a little less dirty or skanky, while the honey blends in the base to add the faintest touch of sweetness. The sandalwood becomes even deeper, and even takes on a floral touch that is quite lovely. Actually, all the wood accords grow stronger, as does the smoke. Slowly, Hard Leather begins the transition to its next phase where the wood elements dominate the scent to such an extent, I sometimes wonder if the perfume might be more aptly named Hard Woods.

An hour into its development, Hard Leather begins its second stage, turning intensely dry. The desiccated feel from the woods and smoke essentially neutralizes the honey, but I think something else is at play. I smell Norlimbanol with its arid and, yes, its synthetic feel. For those who are unfamiliar with the name, Norlimbanol is a super aromachemical from Givaudan that puts ISO E Super to shame with its power. It has an ultra powerful, sharp aroma of woodiness with an undertone of leather, but it is always bone-dry to the point of dustiness.

Recently, I spent 10 minutes sniffing just the outside of my little decant of Hard Leather, and there was a definite synthetic whiff of dry woodiness right from the sprayer. On skin, it only shows up after an hour or 75 minutes, but it does show up. A few times when I’ve sniffed Hard Leather on my arm and up close, I get an immediate tightness in my nose and the faintest tickle at the back of my throat. The Norlimbanol is merely a speck at first, but it becomes increasingly powerful in Hard Leather’s 2nd through 5th hours, and I have to admit, I’m not a fan of it. Even without it, I think the new focus on dry woods destroys the perfection of the first hour with its raw animalism and unapologetic, lusty sensuality. Bring back the sex and leather, I say!

Smoke #11 Stefano Bonazzi Selected Digital Works. (Website link embedded within photo.)

About 90-minutes into its development, Hard Leather is a different fragrance. The oud and Norlimbanol have taken over, turning the scent into one of extreme woods and incense with a very arid feel. The lusty, raunchy leather is blended into it, but it is a much more muted layer that lies underneath, and it is no longer Hard Leather’s main focus. At the same time, Hard Leather’s initially powerful sillage drops. With 2 big sprays (or the equivalent of 3 enormous smears), Hard Leather initially wafts about 5-6 inches around you, before dropping down after 90 minutes to a softer, airier cloud that is only about 3 inches. It’s very intense when smelled up close, and remains that way for hours.

The other notes make a valiant effort to counter-balance the the power of the oud, incense, and Norlimbanol. Unfortunately, my skin takes synthetics like the latter and runs with it, so they’re not particularly successful. Still, I really like how the Mysore sandalwood blooms, turning more floral and much creamier. I can also detect the sweeter notes stirring in the base. Styrax is a smoky, spicy, slightly leathered sort of amber resin, and it adds little flecks of golden warmth like fireflies in an extremely dark, smoky forest. The tiniest tendrils of vanilla curl up as well, stroking the woods, trying to tame them with sweetness in order to end the dry spell.

Source: hqdesktop.net

The core essence of Hard Leather’s second stage remains largely unchanged for the next few hours. Different notes wax and wane in prominence or strength, but the intense smoke, dry woods, and oud dominate. The power of the trio and the length of their stay really seems to depend on how much Hard Leather you apply. The more you spray, the longer their duration and force, and the less sweetness the fragrance manifests. Regardless, midway during the third hour, the vanilla starts to play a much bigger role. It’s now quite cuddly, cozy, rich, and sweet. The sandalwood turns even creamier; it’s a very smooth, incredibly luxurious aroma that begins to muscle its way onto center stage. Hard Leather is an elegant blend of dryness, sweetness, spiciness, creaminess, smokiness, leather, and woods, with just a hint of something raunchy, untamed, and animalic at its edges.

Source: 123rf.com

At the end of the fifth hour, the dryness finally recedes, and Hard Leather transitions to its third stage. The primary focal point is now spicy sandalwood and sweet vanilla, followed by oud, incense and increasingly muted hints of musky leather. It is all much more discreet, lying right on the skin, though it doesn’t take any effort to detect Hard Leather up close. Other notes pop up and down like a Jack in the Box. The honey reappears from time to time in the background, adding to Hard Leather’s growing glimpses of sweetness. The base feels much warmer now as well, though the styrax resin never seems like actual amber but something much more abstract in nature.

The oddest thing is the iris. Sometimes, Hard Leather has a definite floral element, but it really seems to stem primarily from the sandalwood. On occasion, however, the iris appears on my skin, primarily as a cool, soft suede with the faintest tinge of soft powder. It’s incredibly muted and weak on me, and I suspect cooler or paler skins may bring out the iris more than my warm, basenote-amplifying chemistry.

Source: top.besthdwallpapers.info

Hard Leather’s final stage begins around the 8th hour. The perfume is a blur of spicy sandalwood with tiny flickers of smoky oud, musk, and sweetness. It feels quite abstract on some levels, though the sandalwood is unmistakable. In its final moments, Hard Leather is merely a gauzy whisper of sweet, slightly spicy woodiness. The scent has astounding longevity on my perfume-consuming skin. Two big sprays (the equivalent of 3 enormous smears) lasted 14.25 hours, though it was quite patchy in spots and I actually thought it may have died after 12 hours. With only one spray, Hard Leather lasts just under 12.5 hours. The sillage is initially quite fierce, but, like all LM Parfums, softens and drops around the 90-minute mark. Using the smaller quantity, Hard Leather became a true skin on me at end of the 4th hour; with a larger application, at the end of the 6th.

I love Hard Leather, though it’s not perfect. I will never get tired of its opening, and how jaw-droppingly seductive it is. It is pure sex on a stick (or, in this case, sex in a bottle). I wish with all my heart that it would last forever, especially as I’m less enthused by the 2nd phase with all its Norlimbanol. Still, the aromachemical is miles away from the demonic toxicity of YSL‘s utterly heinous Noble Leather, and it certainly didn’t impact me in the same way. It’s also much softer and tamer in small quantities, so I’d gladly wear Hard Leather even with the bloody Norlimbanol. That should tell you how much I love that raunchy, sexual, primal start. It’s positively indecent — in the very best way possible! Hard Leather ends on a happy note, too, with creamy, rich, gloriously real Mysore sandalwood, warm vanilla, and, less excitingly, oud.

For all that I would like to drown myself in Hard Leather’s opening, for all its impact on me, I most definitely do NOT recommend the perfume to everyone. Those who disliked any of the fragrances that I’ve mentioned here — from Aoud Cuir d’Arabie and Cuir Mauresque, to Muscs Koublai Khan or Trayee — should stay away. Those who have issues with oud of any kind, especially aged agarwood, or who find animalic scents to be dirty, should avoid Hard Leather as well. People who like their leather to be more like suede or expensive handbags will find this scent to be far too raw for their tastes. And, as a whole, I don’t think Hard Leather is a fragrance that the vast majority of women would like on their own skin, though I think a lot would find it incredibly sexy on a man.

Hard Leather is a fragrance that skews sharply and unapologetically masculine, rendering things like Puredistance‘s glorious M extremely unisex in comparison. (I personally think that M really is unisex, but I know a number of women who feel they can’t wear it. That sentiment would be amplified by a thousand for Hard Leather.) I think the dryness of Hard Leather’s second phase may also be difficult for people of either gender who prefer a little more sweetness with their woods or animalic touches.

Speaking of that dryness, Hard Leather at the end of the second hour made me think of Amouage‘s Opus VII. The two fragrances are very different, particularly because of the herbal oddness of the fenugreek in Opus VII and the nature of the two musks. On my skin, the animalic elements in Opus VII turned into something strongly reminiscent of a wild cat enclosure at the zoo with peeing lions, instead of the scent of skin during sex. Opus VII is visually greener, with strong spices, and heavily peppered with ISO E Super. Yet both fragrances have an extreme darkness to them, and share oud, incense, sandalwood, leather tonalities, and amplifying synthetics with a bone-dry feel. I think Hard Leather is much less desiccated than Opus VII, and has sweeter, warmer elements, but, in terms of an aesthetic style, the two fragrances share some distant kinship, though I must stress again that they don’t smell anything alike.

Photo: Oleksiy Maksymenko. Source: FineArtAmerica. (Website link embedded within photo.)

Still, if Opus VII was your cup of tea and you didn’t find it too dry, oud-y or smoky, then you should definitely try Hard Leather. If neither Opus VII nor any of the other fragrances mentioned here were your style, Hard Leather won’t be either. In my case, I loathed Opus VII (thanks to the peeing lion and the ISO E Super), but I do love Hard Leather because of its greater kinship with fragrances like Cuir Mauresque, MKK, and Trayee. The raunchy sexuality of that opening phase is so beautifully balanced, melded so seamlessly with the other notes, that it is very tasteful in my eyes — which makes it even more seductive and hot. Perhaps the best way to describe it is to compare it to the height of foreplay, instead of anything more… climactic, shall we say. Hard Leather’s subsequent journey into the depths of a dark, smoky forest undergoing a drought is hardly as appealing, but the creamy, sweetened warmth of the final stage takes us back to bed, with a couple now sleeping off the after-effects of both stages in a haze of sandalwood, oud, and sweet muskiness.

Unfortunately, none of this comes cheaply. From what I’ve gathered, and from my early taste of the 2014 LM Parfums fragrances that I tried in Paris, Laurent Mazzone’s new Intimacy Collection seeks to focus on more complex, sophisticated scents based on the most expensive of ingredients. Hard Leather is the first in that collection, and it is priced accordingly at €295. (The current extraits perfumes are €195, a €100 less.) I don’t know what the American price will be when it eventually hits these shores and comes to Osswald in New York, but €295 is $400 at today’s rate of exchange. On the other hand, Hard Leather is also pure parfum in concentration, and there is a 100 ml of it. It smells expensive; it includes incredibly costly ingredients like aged Laotian oud, iris, and, more importantly, rare, almost extinct Mysore sandalwood; and a single spray has great potency and longevity.

I’m the first one to decry perfumes that are over-priced for what they are, but I think you’re definitely getting your money’s worth with Hard Leather. It is worth every penny. In fact, if the perfume consisted solely of that smoking hot, steamy opening, but cost twice as much, I’d contemplate selling a kidney to buy it. My God, that opening… that opening…. I don’t know if I should take a freezing cold shower, or just spray on some more.

Disclosure: sample provided by 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: Hard Leather is pure parfum extrait that is available only in a 100 ml/3.4 oz bottle which costs €295. It was released just today, 12/04/13, online, at LM Parfums. Samples of all LM Parfums extraits are usually available and priced at €19 for 5 ml size, and I see Hard Leather is also listed as of 12/14. Laurent Mazzone’s Premiere Avenue now has a decant of Hard Leather for that price as well. In the U.S.: Laurent Mazzone’s fragrances are sold exclusively at Osswald NYC, but they informed me on Twitter that they won’t receive Hard Leather until January 2014. I will try to update this post when they do. Outside the U.S.: You can find Hard Leather, along with all LM Parfums, and 5 ml samples of each at Laurent Mazzone’s own Premiere Avenue which ships throughout Europe. Hard Leather is not yet offered in decant form, but you can check back later as the perfume was just released today. In the UK, the LM Parfums line is exclusive to Harvey Nichols. In Paris, LM Parfums are sold at Jovoy. In the Netherlands, you can find LM Parfums at ParfuMaria or Silks Cosmetics. In Germany, First in Fragrance carries the full line, and sells samples as well. You can also find LM Parfums at Essenza Nobile, Italy’s Vittoria Profumi, or 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.

Guerlain L’Instant de Guerlain pour Homme & L’Instant Eau Extreme

Posted on December 1, 2013 by Kafkaesque

Source: parfumdepub.com

Women are missing out. Those who pay heed to Guerlain’s ridiculous gender classifications are losing the opportunity to try a very refined fragrance that starts off as crisp and fresh as a glass of sparkling, chilled Perrier with lemon, before turning into a slightly gourmand fragrance centered around cozy, milky tea with jasmine. It is L’Instant de Guerlain Pour Homme, commonly nicknamed LIDG, an eau de toilette that plays with hot and cold, light and dark, cologne and gourmand elements.

It’s elegant and sophisticated, but I think it’s even better in the richer, deeper, spicier, and smokier flanker eau de parfum version called L’Instant pour Homme de Guerlain Eau Extreme in the U.S. (“LIDGE“), but simply L’Instant de Guerlain pour Homme Eau de Parfum in Europe. (For the sake of succinctness, I’ll merely refer to the latter as “L’Instant Extreme.”) In fact, L’Instant Extreme may be my favorite thus far out of Guerlain’s modern line-up. In this review, I’ll cover both the original fragrance (which I’ll just call “L’Instant” or “LIDG“) and its eau de parfum Extreme version.

L’INSTANT DE GUERLAIN POUR HOMME (EAU DE TOILETTE):

L’Instant de Guerlain Pour Homme (LIDG) Eau de Toilette.

Contrasts in masculinity and femininity, crispness and warmth, hot and cold — those were the exact goals for L’Instant, an eau de toilette created by Beatrice Piquet, and released in 2004. The fragrance is described by Guerlain as follows:

Luminous Woody.
Fresh, warm, sensual.

This paradoxical fragrance skates between fire and ice, flamboyant virility and discreet femininity. The luminous freshness of citrus crystals and star anise contrasts with the warmth of patchouli, hibiscus seeds and cocoa to offer, through this luminous woody scent, a unique moment after which everything will be different.

With L’Instant de Guerlain pour Homme, the Guerlain Perfumer takes a first step towards freshness in 2004, showcasing a hot and cold olfactory contrast. The fresh top notes are inspired by an oriental aniseed drink called arak. The base notes feature the gourmand notes of the dessert by a famous pastry-maker, worked around chocolate and patchouli.

Surrender to Chance provides the succinct list of L’Instant Pour Homme’s ingredients:

top notes of citrus, anise and jasmine; middle notes of patchouli, cedar, Indian sandalwood, Lapsang tea, cocoa beans and lavender; and base notes of hibiscus seeds and musk.

Source: societeperrier.com

L’Instant pour Homme opens on my skin as a sparkling, zesty, citrus cologne with fougère-like touches of lavender. The lemon is so fresh, clean, and brisk that it reminds me of a glass of chilled Perrier infused with citruses. Within seconds, however, L’Instant turns warm with dusty cocoa powder. It feels initially out-of-place, discordant and too dusky sweet, but it soon melts into the base. There are hints of creamy woods lurking there as well, but, to my nose, it doesn’t smell of real or Mysore sandalwood. Instead, it smells like something generic and, given its later manifestation as something almost cashmere-like in softness, it seems more like Cashmeran than sandalwood. Regardless, it’s still pretty, and serves to create a bridge between the zesty, crisp, cool notes and the warmth lurking in L’Instant’s base.

Source: apollotea.com

Other elements are soon noticeable as well. Subtle touches of anise swirl together with smoky, green, slightly sharp cedar. There is also the first whisper of a dark, black, Lapsang Souchong tea that mixes with the creamy elements and the fresher notes to create an unusual cocktail: half warm, milky, sweetened tea; and half cold, Pastis/Ouzo with sparkling lemon. It’s rather fascinating. Lest all this sound like a discordant hodge-podge, lest me assure you that it is not. The cocoa powder’s early whiff of sweetness softened within an instant, losing its distinct, individual identity, and melting into the crisp aromatics, lavender, woods, tea, and anise to create a soft warmth. It’s a strong combination at first, wafting about 3 inches above the skin from 3 very big smears, but it feels almost transparent as well. L’Instant pour Homme is simultaneously both brisk, and languidly mellow, smooth, and creamy.

Source: womanfaq.ru

L’Instant’s brisk, clean, lemon notes soften 25 minutes in, and start to weaken as the warm base rises to the surface. More and more, the perfume smells like warm, creamy, milky tea instead of chilled, brisk, lemon Perrier with ouzo. There are hints of a green jasmine dancing around, along with the soft, smooth “sandalwood” that holds the faintest, merest flicker of something smoky. This feels almost like an intermediary stage, bridging the cool opening phase with the L’Instant’s eventual turn into something warmer, softer, more floral.

Forty minutes in, the floral-woody elements grow stronger, changing L’Instant more and more into something that is primarily a lemony, jasmine, woody musk over a Chai-like base. The flower is green and fresh, not sweet, syrupy, indolic, or over-the-top. Yet, it has a soft creaminess to it, thanks to the equally green “sandalwood.” I refuse to believe the latter comes from India, and it has to be a green tree from Australia — if it is even sandalwood itself as opposed to some synthetic like Cashmeran. I’ll spare you my pet peeves on “sandalwood” in modern perfumery, and simply say that the base works here as a creamy, textural element that perfectly suits the Lapsang Souchong milky tea.

The perfume shifts yet again at the 90-minute mark. L’Instant Pour Homme is a soft blur of notes that overlap each other in a graceful blend of jasmine, creamy woods, and musk. The faintest trace of lemon lingers, but the cocoa is becoming more noticeable, diffusing the occasional greenness that remains around the floral edges. The milky tea accord has temporarily retreated, though it later pops up again with greater visibility. L’Instant is all about the floral woodiness right now. The fragrance has also changed in terms of sillage, dropping to hover right on my skin with no projection at all, though it is still distinct and noticeable if sniffed up close.

I’ve tried L’Instant pour Homme several times, and noticed that it always seems to go through the same stages on my skin. Each time, its primary, main bouquet seems to be:

0-20 minutes: sparkling, chilled Perrier dominated by brisk lemon, and a hint of ouzo.
20-40 minutes: crisp, milky, lemon tea; a cool fragrance with starting hints of warmth; and the growing significance of jasmine and cocoa;
40-90 minutes: jasmine infused with lemony citrus over creamy tea;
90-180 minutes: a creamy jasmine, floral, woody musk which turns into a skin scent at 120 minutes.
180+ minutes: milky tea and jasmine, lightly sprinkled with dry, sweet cocoa. It is a bouquet that is extremely hard to detect at times.

The last two stages are interesting. Whenever I think that L’Instant has turned into a floral woody musk like something from Chanel (the drydown of 1932 comes to mind), the milky chai element either pops back up or takes over completely. The jasmine really isn’t the main player in L’Instant’s drydown, often hiding behind the creamy, sweetened, milky tea, but it certainly appears more on my skin than the cocoa.

As for the sillage, I have to say that I was pretty sure that L’Instant had died completely on my skin at the end of the second hour, then at the end of the third. By the fourth hour, I was shocked to see L’Instant still hanging on tenacious, though I had to practically attack my arm and inhale like a wild animal to find it. It was a mere blur of creaminess that was vaguely woody and sweetened. Yet, L’Instant is an extremely tenacious little thing, and I was quite stunned to detect thin, wispy bits of it lingering 8.5 hours from the start. There wasn’t much to the scent in terms of notes, but it was there.

L’Instant Pour Homme doesn’t suit my personal tastes, primarily because of its ephemeral quality and sillage, but I think it’s very well-done, refined, and sophisticated. Perhaps more to the point, I find it wholly unisex in nature. The crispness of the opening is no different than any number of fragrances worn by women, from Arquiste‘s L’Etrog, to half a dozen things from Parfums d’Empire, Histoires de Parfums, Santa Maria Novella, or other houses. L’Instant pour Homme certainly feels more feminine than a scent like Azemour from Parfums d’Empire with its arid, pungent, oakmoss citruses. Yes, L’Instant has a cologne-like start, but it lasts about 15 minutes before the fragrance starts the transition into one of its many Lapsang Souchong chai variations. The drydown is certainly plush, warm, and creamy enough to work on both genders.

Source: weheartit.com

For me, L’Instant evokes a very specific customer: images of extremely well-heeled men and women in New York’s Upper East Side. Very wealthy, Ralph Lauren-types where the women are cool blondes in long, soft, flowing cashmere wraps with chic riding boots, or dark brunettes with a sleek New York style. The men are in crisp, well-tailored, dark suits, or in discretely expensive, casual attire as they drive their Range Rovers to the Hamptons. It’s all about elegance with discretion, a seemingly haughty, brisk aloofness belied by approachable warmth and coziness. It’s suitable for a variety of occasions, but especially the office given its discrete, unobtrusive sillage.

Source: mobile-wallpapers.feedio.net

I don’t think L’Instant Pour Homme is the most distinctive, unusual fragrance on the market, but it’s a very refined one that deserves its cult status amongst men. It’s too well-known a fragrance to warrant comparative assessments or reviews, but you can read the gushing raves on Fragrantica for yourself. I will only point out that others seem to have significantly better luck with L’Instant’s duration than I did, as the vast majority (123) voted for “long lasting” (defined as 7-12 hours), outweighing all other categories by a land-slide.

For me, personally, L’Instant is too thin, sheer, and translucent, too fresh at first before turning into a rather simple floral, woody musk at the end. None of that is really my personal style and, while I found it refined for others, what showed up on my skin was somewhat uninteresting for my tastes (it’s all subjective!), and irritatingly transient. The L’Instant Pour Homme Eau Extreme eau de parfum is a whole other matter, however. I found it lovely, and it is the version that I would personally recommend, especially for women.

L’INSTANT EAU EXTREME:

L’Instant Pour Homme Eau Extreme (LIDGE), or L’Instant Eau de Parfum.

L’Instant’s second flanker was released in 2005, and its massively long American name is L’Instant de Guerlain Pour Homme Eau Extreme (with “LIDGE” as a nickname). In Europe, it seems to be entitled merely L’Instant Pour Homme Eau de Parfum. Regardless of name, Beatrice Piquet intended Eau Extreme to be a “more intense, richer, smokier and deeper version of the original fragrance. The perfume opens with notes of crystal citruses, star anise and elemi. Neroli, patchouli flower, Indian jasmine and Lapsang tea are the heart of the composition, laid on the base of cedar, Mysore sandalwood, cocoa, patchouli and hibiscus seed.” As Guerlain adds on its website,

There are no languid half-measures about the composition of this Eau Extrême. The fresh notes of citrus and star anise, embellished by floral notes, embrace the light before melting into a deeply sensual and gourmand woody accord of patchouli and cocoa.

For me, the two fragrances are different for reasons that go beyond mere deepness or concentration. I find them to have completely separate olfactory profiles, due, in part, to the ingredients used. According to Fragrantica, the list of notes for L’Instant Eau Extreme includes:

citrus, star anise, elemi, neroli, patchouli flower, Indian jasmine, lapsang tea, cedar, Mysore sandalwood, cocoa, and hibiscus seed.

Pre-Columbian chocolate with chilies. Source: CaFleureBon.

L’Instant Eau Extreme opens on my skin with citruses dominated by sharp, fiery spices. It’s a visual of yellow, reds, browns and dark greens, especially once the patchouli kicks in with its slightly pungent, very green feeling leafiness. Sweet, dusty, milk chocolate cocoa powder and smoky dark woods soon follow. L’Instant Eau Extreme’s spiciness is interesting; for me, it goes far beyond star anise and actually verges on a red pimento chili pepper with a definite bite.

Underlying the spiciness are other elements. There is the most minuscule, fleeting whisper of bitter neroli, but the main citric note is that of sun-warmed lemons. It’s a heavier, sweeter, richer note than the crisp, brisk, chilled lemon used in LIDG eau de toilette. There is also smokiness from the elemi which carries a nuance of leaves burning in an autumn bonfire. The whole bouquet is lightly dusted by a cocoa powder that feels soft, dusty and sweet like milk chocolate. Yet, there is also a definite nuttiness to L’Instant Eau Extreme, as if the cocoa and patchouli had combined to produce toasted hazelnuts.

The patchouli lurked about Eau Extreme’s opening, but it becomes really noticeable about 5 minutes in, adding a dusty earthiness to the scent. It’s not a chewy, dense note, and, at first, it’s far from the usual patchouli aroma with its interplay of sweetness and smoky spiciness. Instead, the patchouli is initially evocative of dry, dark, slightly damp soil with a bit of a musky overlay. Its lack of sweetness counters the cocoa, creating a blend that is perfectly balanced and never cloying.

Star Anise. Source: foodlve.com

The original LIDG’s milky tea note carries over to Eau Extreme as well. The difference is that it is now infused with the fiery, chili-like star anise, earthy patchouli, smoky woods, and a far greater confluence of sweet cocoa powder. Eau Extreme has a touch of a floral musk at the edges, but it is indistinct on my skin at this stage, and is never as profound or significant a note as it is in LIDG eau de toilette.

Twenty minutes in, L’Instant Eau Extreme turns into a fragrance dominated by patchouli, followed by cocoa, and creamy tea that has been infused with fiery, spicy, star anise and lemon. Regular readers know that (true) patchouli is one of my all-time favorite notes, so it’s probably not surprising that L’Instant Eau Extreme is my favorite out of the two Guerlain siblings. The fragrance soon turns into a powerful but airy, almost transparent cloud that is a beautiful blend of sweet, spicy, woody, earthy and creamy elements dominated by patchouli. It wafts about four inches above the skin, and little tendrils follow in the air as I move.

Yet, at the same time, there is something synthetic in the perfume’s base that consistently gives me faint twinges for the first two hours when I sniff the perfume up close. I didn’t detect anything similar in LIDG, so I have to wonder if it is that slightly acrid, biting star anise that is to blame. When the note fades and L’Instant Eau Extreme turns into a creamier, softer, more vanillic patchouli, so does my occasional headache.

Source: howbenefitstea.com

Slowly, very slowly, L’Instant Eau Extreme starts to change. Forty-five minutes, the jasmine appears. There are only hints of it at first, but it remains a lingering trace at the perfume’s edges. Then, the patchouli loses its earthiness, turning sweet, creamy, and soft. The star anise mellows, and that chili pepper, pimento facet starts to fade away. The tea accord becomes increasingly dominant, feeling always creamy and milky, and softening the smokier woodier elements in L’Instant Extreme. As with regular LIDG, the eau de parfum version goes through a phase where it smells like milky tea with a slice of lemon and a light touch of jasmine. This time, however, the tea is dominated by a soft patchouli as well.

At the start of the third hour, L’Instant Extreme is a creamy patchouli with a vanilla undertone. There are varying levels of tea, jasmine, lemon, and woodiness that wax and wane, but they are not the dominant, primary essence of the fragrance on my skin, and they become increasingly muted. L’Instant Eau Extreme turns into a skin scent at the start of the 4th hour, though it is still easily noticeable if sniffed up close. About 6.5 hours in, the perfume is a lovely, cozy, gourmand blur of patchouli with a nutty, cuddly, caramel-vanilla aspect that makes me wonder if L’Instant Eau Extreme also has a touch of tonka bean in it. After all, it is the tonka bean that is partially responsible for Guerlain’s signature Guerlainade note, and base aroma here seems different than mere milk chocolate powder. Whatever the reason for the caramel-vanilla touch, it works wonderfully with the patchouli.

Photo: Heather A. Riggs, available at her Etsy store, ShyPhotog. (Website link embedded within photo.)

Yet, L’Instant Eau Extreme’s drydown never feels wholly like a gourmand patchouli soliflore, perhaps because of lingering, ghostly traces of the other notes. There are rare moments when the sun-sweetened lemon, delicate jasmine, or milky chai pop their heads back up. There are also the merest suggestions of lingering smokiness and woodiness from time to time. As a whole, though, L’Instant Eau Extreme is a patchouli-dominated fragrance. Like its older, thinner sibling, it turns more and more abstract, and becomes harder to detect, though it is generally a much stronger, richer, deeper scent. In its final moments, 10.5 hours from the start, L’Instant Eau Extreme is merely a blur of sweetness. The fragrance has strong projection at first, which turns softer at the end of the second hour, and discreet after four hours.

For all that cocoa is supposed to be such a big part of L’Instant Eau Extreme, it never dominated as a note that was distinctive in its own right. Rather, it seemed to melt into the base, creating that creamy, milky undertone that was a part of both versions of L’Instant. Only at the start, in the very opening minutes of each fragrance, did I think, “Oh, chocolate powder.” Instead, my skin turned the note into something that merely had an indirect effect on the other notes. Judging by the comments on Fragrantica, it’s merely my skin because plenty of people detected a very distinct, profound cocoa powder accord in L’Instant Extreme.

Since LIDGE (Eau Extreme) is different than LIDG (original), and not as well-known, a few of the Fragrantica reviews may be helpful. Take the comment by “hedward,” who absolutely hates Ouzo and, thus, Eau Extreme’s opening, but who wrote this about the fragrance’s main stage:

As the heart notes began to creep in LIDGE started to make sense after my nose had recovered from the anise attack. During the heart there was a very dry tea note which was incredibly clever – smokey black tea to be precise. It kind of had a chai latteish feeling to it (and I mean real chai latte, not the one from Starbucks)Then the tea died down and patchouli made it’s way to the stage… this is where the magic begins. The drydown is marvelous!! Semi-sweet pure cocoa with shining earthy pathcouli and a slightest hint of vanilla. This smells like a golden Maya temple – reeks of wealth and power but in a very delicate and beautiful way. The scent was so bright and glorious it almost radiated rays of golden light with a jesus choir singing in the backround!! I’m a sucker for dark chocolate as well as for patchouli so this serves my senses just right. The only bad thing about this fragrance is the vile anise in the opening – reminded me of Ouzo which I deeply detest.

Notes I could not detect at all: Neroli, jasmine and surprisingly: citrus.

A few others were also “repulsed” by the first two hours of LIDGE, before falling in love with its subsequent development. In one instance, the person’s main problem seems to be the fragrance’s strength in the opening. As for women, there are quite a few who like L’Instant Eau Extreme, undoubtedly because it lacks the more cologne-like citrus focus of the original LIDG and is a sweeter, richer scent. One female commentator shared the opinion of a few men that Eau Extreme was better with time, but she also wrote that she thinks all Guerlains are generally better experienced after 30-40 minutes.

As with any fragrance that is hugely hyped and a cult legend, there are people who simply don’t see what all the fuss is about. L’Instant Eau Extreme is no different. Some people find it pretty good, but “not remarkable.” A few struggle with weak sillage and longevity, while a handful have the opposite reaction, finding that LIDGE is too strong, too enduring, and too intense. As a whole, I suspect that those who aren’t fans of patchouli will have issues with L’Instant Extreme, no matter how much cocoa may appear on their skin or what the perfume’s strength may be.

I like LIDGE a lot, but I don’t think it’s perfect and I want to emphasize the context for my feelings. For me, personally, I would like that the fragrance have greater weight, heaviness, and nuance on my skin. I would definitely prefer sillage that didn’t veer between slightly synthetic forcefulness, and a sudden gauzy, wispy softness after just two hours, before turning into a skin scent after four. And if I love L’Instant Eau Extreme, it is highly relative to my feelings about Guerlain as a whole.

This is actually my very first positive review for any modern Guerlain. I’ve been utterly unimpressed by all their recent creations thus far, let alone the terrible reformulations of their brilliant, justifiably admired classics. I would absolutely wear L’Instant Eau Extreme if a bottle fell into my lap, but it is not sufficiently breath-taking on an overall, general scale for me to hunt it down. (As you can read below in the Details section, the fragrance seems to be a European exclusive that is not commonly available in the United States, and may require purchase from Canada.) As a result, I would probably get my patchouli fix from fragrances that have deeper body, more depth, and are more noticeable on my perfume-consuming skin.

That said, L’Instant Pour Homme Eau Extreme is perhaps my favorite modern Guerlain thus far. I think it is warm, lovely, creamy, and smooth, and it would be sexy on both a man and a woman. Both versions, LIDG and LIDGE/Extreme are refined, very well-done, elegant fragrances that are offered at a reasonable price. If Guerlain ever took the words “Pour Homme” out of both fragrance’s names, I think women would suddenly realise that Guerlain offers a scent that is not a boring, girly fruity-floral, a simplistic gourmand, an “old lady” powder, or a super-sweet, over-priced, hot mess. There is another option, hiding under an archaic, ridiculous gender classification. Depending on your personal taste, you can go with a crisp, brisk, fresh cologne that turns into a discreet, soft floral woody musk with Chai tea; or you can go with a richer, spicier, smoky, woody oriental that turns into a cozy, patchouli, gourmand-oriental. Both are worth a test sniff, regardless of your gender.

DETAILS:

L’INSTANT EDT – Cost & Availability: L’Instant de Guerlain pour Homme is an Eau de Toilette that comes in two sizes: a 2.5 oz/75 ml bottle that Guerlain has priced at $75 or €62, or a 4.2 oz/120 ml bottle for $100. Like its brother, L’Instant Eau de Toilette is featured on the International Guerlain website, but there is no online store from which you can purchase the fragrance directly. However, French readers can purchase directly from the Guerlain France website. In the U.S.: You can find L’Instant at many department stores, but also at a number of discount retailers. The “small” 2.5 oz bottle is available at Overstock.com for $45.99 and at Target for $56.09, while I found the big 4.2 oz/125 ml size sold on Amazon by a third-party vendor at a discounted rate for $66.77. The perfume is also discounted in both sizes at FragranceX in the $60-range. At the higher, regular retail price, it is sold at Bloomingdale’s and in both sizes by Neiman Marcus. The L’Instant Eau de Toilette is currently sold out at Nordstroms. Outside the U.S.: L’Instant de Guerlain pour Homme is sold at many Sephoras, especially in France. In the UK, you can find it at Harrod’s and all big department stores. The House of Fraser had the fragrance discounted, which is undoubtedly why they are currently sold out. Samples: you can order samples of L’Instant EDT from Surrender to Chance where prices start at $3.99 for a 1 ml vial.

L’INSTANT EDP or L’INSTANT EXTREME- Cost & Availability: L’Instant in Eau de Parfum version, or L’Instant Eau Extreme comes in a 2.5 oz/75 ml bottle that costs £52.50, or €73. I simply cannot seem to find it in the U.S., whether at established retailers like Saks or Bergdorf Goodman, or at the discount sites. I’m not even sure if it would be available at the Guerlain boutique in Las Vegas. However, I know that it is available at Guerlain’s Toronto store. A poster on Fragrantica, “Aucffan1” posted some incredibly useful, detailed information regarding that affordable, no tax option:

Try buying from Guerlain’s Boutique in Toronto, Canada.. For 75 ml bottle the price is $80.00 US dollars and free shipping to the USA.. In the USA I just dialed area code and number.. [¶] Serious.. And no tax..

Address: 110 Bloor St W Toronto, ON M5S 2W7, Canada

Phone: +1 416-929-6114
The package came within 3 days….And very important you need to sign for the package.

Outside the US: I found L’Instant EDP Eau Extreme at a number of retailers, from Harrods to House of Fraser where it costs £52.50 for the 75 ml size. I found it discounted at Debenham’s for £47.25, and at Escentual for £42.00. Samples: in the U.S., you can order samples of L’Instant EDP or, as they call it, L’Instant Extreme from Surrender to Chance which sells vials starting at $5.99

Profumum Dulcis in Fundo and Arso

Posted on November 30, 2013 by Kafkaesque

Simplicity done in the richest, most concentrated way possible seems to be the signature of Profumum Roma. It is an Italian niche perfume house founded in 1996, and commonly called Profumum by most. The fragrances are often soliflores, or centered around one main note, but Profumum takes that note and concentrates it with 43% to 46% perfume oils to create the height of luxurious richness. Today, I thought I’d look at Dulcis in Fundo and Arso, two pure parfums which focus, respectively, on vanilla and on piney incense.

DULCIS IN FUNDO:

Source: stuffpoint.com

Have you ever gone into an ice cream or frozen yoghurt shop, sniffed the air, and felt almost uplifted at the aroma of freshly baked waffle cones sprinkled with sugar? Have you ever ordered a creme caramel, and thought its aroma of caramelized vanilla was utterly delicious? If you have ever wanted to put those scents into a bottle, then you may want to try Dulcis in Fundo.

Dulcis in Fundo is an eau de parfum that was released in 2001. Profumum‘s website describes the fragrance and its notes very simply:

Sin of gluttony… sin of heart:
In essence, don’t both passion and seduction
evolve through a flare of vanilla?

Sicilian citrus fruits, Vanilla

Source: Profumum Roma.

The description from Luckyscent nails the essence of the fragrance, and pretty much negates the need for much more extensive elaboration from me:

This opens with a very fresh, very sweet orange, like a clementine being peeled, complete with the tangy sharpness of citrus oil on your fingers. Then the sweetness intensifies and becomes richer, as if drizzled with Grand Marnier, and a billowy dollop of luscious, creamy, unadulterated vanilla tops it all off. Warm and brazenly sweet, this ambrosial blend is for the woman who wants to smell delicious. This is dessert at its irresistible best: whipped cream being licked off fingers, fits of giggles fueled by liqueur, suggestive whispers over shared spoonfuls. We suspect that more is going on here than citrus and vanilla (some say a saucy little apricot was involved) but perhaps it is just a citrus and a vanilla that get along exceedingly well. Delectable.

Blood Orange. Source: Twitter.

Dulcis in Fundo opens on my skin with a burst of juicy oranges that is not sweet but more like the tangy aroma of dark, ruby-red blood oranges. The note is concentrated, deep, tart and a little bit bitter. It is quickly infused with warm, rich, heavy vanilla that is quite custardy in its depth. I smell like an orange creamsicle with hints of freshly baked, warm-from-the-oven, waffle cones. There is almost something creamily woody deep, deep down, because there is a subtle impression of gingerbread to the waffle base.

The vanilla soon turns richer, making Dulcis in Fundo smell very much like a creme caramel with a slightly singed top. Less than 15 minutes into the perfume’s development, the orange top note abates, leaving an aroma that is primarily that of waffle cones and creme brulée dusted with tablespoons of sugar. I loved the tart citric element, so it’s a bit of a shame that it vanished so quickly and that it contents itself with popping up from the sidelines only once in a blue moon in the first two hours. Dulcis in Fundo is sweet and intensely strong, but without massive sillage and with surprising airiness. In its opening ten minutes, it hovers perhaps 1-2 inches, at best, above my skin, but is profoundly concentrated when smelled up close.

Crème Brûlée. Source: eugeniekitchen.com. For an easy recipe, go to: http://eugeniekitchen.com/creme-brulee-recipe-burnt-cream-french-custard/

Dulcis in Fundo is a largely linear, simple, uncomplicated gourmand that smells of nothing more than sugared vanillic pastries. Funnel cake, waffle cones, creme caramel, Italian baked goods — you take your pick. Dulcis in Fundo is a cozy, cuddly, sweet delight, but there is sufficient dryness that (on my skin at least), it never felt like diabetes in a bottle. I’ve tried gourmand fragrances and vanilla scents that made my tooth ache from their sweetness, but Dulcis in Fundo is not one of them. It is never unctuously heavy, either, no matter how rich the fragrance may initially appear or the subtle sheen of oils that it initially left on my skin.

Actually, for all its concentrated feel, Dulcis in Fundo is rather light in weight. In fact, to my surprise, it became a discreet skin scent on me after an hour. Perhaps Profumum felt that so much rich vanilla needed a very light hand and unobtrusiveness in order to prevent a cloying, nauseating feel. All in all, Dulcis in Fundo lasted a good solid 8.75 hours on my skin, though there were lingering traces of it well over the 12-hour mark. I’m going to put the longevity at the lower figure, solely because Dulcis in Fundo really seemed like it was about to disappear at the start of the 8th hour, even if little patches lasted for another four.

Funnel cake cupcakes. Source: confessionsofacookbookqueen.com (Website link embedded within photo.)

Dulcis in Fundo is the furthest thing from edgy, revolutionary, or complex, but it may be the most decadent of sinfully rich vanillas. That is probably one reason why it seems to be many gourmand lovers’ idea of heaven. The perfume is not exactly cheap at $240 or €179, but it is 100 ml of something that is essentially pure perfume extrait with its 43%-46% concentrated oils. Profumum always has the richest fragrances on the market, with generally exceptional longevity, so the price makes their perfumes a good deal for what you’re getting, if you love the scent in question. I personally am not such a fanatic about vanilla or gourmand fragrances, but enough people are for Dulcis in Fundo to be completely sold out at this time at on the Luckyscent site.

Whether it’s people I observe on fragrance groups or those commenting on Fragrantica, gourmand lovers of both genders seem to adore Dulcis in Fundo. Some of the Fragrantica reviews:

If I had money to burn, I’d burn it on this perfume. For me, it’s one of those “eyes roll back in your head” perfumes. The citrus and vanilla are perfectly blended to create a tart, sweet, tangy, candy-like scent Willy Wonka would be proud of. My first thought – Smarties! If you’re looking for sultry, smoky, grown-up vanilla – keep shopping. If you want a truly sweet, delicious, unique perfume with the punch of a Jolly Rancher that’s not watery or shadowy (like most mainstream / celebrity fruity vanillas), this is it.

Seriously the best thing I have ever smelled. Warm, deep, sweet, bourbon-y. [¶] I don’t get any orange other than *maybe* a passing hint right at application. Sillage is great – dabs on my wrists keep this floating to my nose all day. It’s actually distracting. In a good way.

I don’t’ get any citrus at all in this, but it’s an incredible vanilla, very true to bourbon vanilla to the point of almost smelling at times like extract. There are smoky notes, faint incense feeling, and just that rich, thick vanilla, but it’s not cloying, sweet or overpowering. Lovely lovely scent. I want more.

Top notes: lemon cake
Middle notes: vanilla cake and a hint of cinnamon
Dry down: vanilla cake and marshmallow filling [¶] Not particularly complex. Probably too sweet for me to wear very often but positively delicious nonetheless. The vanilla in this is more candy like and than floral. The most pleasant gourmand I’ve come across.

One of the women who purchased Dulcis in Fundo did so despite the cost and after extensively testing a wide variety of other gourmands. She wrote, “at $240 (which could also be a nice pair of boots!)– it had better be IT if I’m paying money for it,” but, for her, Dulcis in Fundo did turn out to be “It.” She even says it seemed to have a huge impact on a younger, male co-worker on whom she had a crush. More to the point, the perfume didn’t smell like cheap vanilla:

I’m a fan of vanilla in theory, but some as you know can smell tawdry or cheap. Some are overrun by other things –smoke, flowers, musk or what have you–which is fine if that’s what you’re looking for. […] This is vanilla with a touch of citrus–heaven sent vanilla. I keep smelling my arm, with the overwhelming urge to rub my face in it.

For others, however, with less of a passion for sweet perfumes, Dulcis in Fundo was too much. Too sweet, too expensive, and too much like food. A few experienced some bitterness, with the tiniest bit of “skank” from what they found to be a cistus, amber-like note in the base. The vast majority, however, loved the fragrance, including some men.

I’m not a gourmand lover, but I think anyone who adores dessert fragrances centered on vanilla should try Dulcis in Fundo. It’s very well-done, and very cozy.

ARSO:

Arso: Source Luckyscent.

Arso means burnt in Italian, but strong smoke is only part of the fragrance by that name from Profumum. Arso was released in 2010, and is classified as an Eau de Parfum but, like all its Profumum siblings, it is actually an Extrait or Pure Parfum in concentration. Profumum‘s beautifully evocative description for the scent reads:

Outside the first snow was falling and
the wind was caressing the leaves of the pine trees.
Inside the chalet of a good red wine
mingled with the notes of a beautiful jazz music.
You and I hugging on an old sofa
and around us the smell of a crackling fireplace,
the white smoke of a precious incense
and the warm scent of pine resin.

Luckyscent has a similar, mood-based description for Arso:

The sharp, evocative scent of wood smoke – triggering childhood memories of bonfires and burning leaves – is at the heart of this eloquent scent. Arso means “burned” and the masterfully rendered smokiness works with the crisp cool scent of pine to conjure up a cabin in winter, with a crackling fire on the hearth. You … also get the warm indoor scents of well-worn leather and glowing incense, as well as the fire. The mood is calm and comfortable and safe [….] This is perfectly suited for the strong, silent type – the sort of man who could build a house single-handedly and maybe even chop down the trees to build all by himself. Quiet, reassuring and powerful.

Profumum Roma rarely seems to give a complete list of notes for its fragrances, and I suspect a lot is often left out. The company says Arso contains, at a minimum:

Leather, incense, pine resin, cedar leaves

Pine tree sap. Source: howtocleanstuff.net

Arso opens on my skin with pine sap, smoky cedar, and sticky caramel amber. There is a hint of muskiness to the golden, sweetened base where there is plainly ambergris at hand, not amber. The note is a common signature to many Profumum scents, and it is always beautiful. As usual, it’s salty, a little bit wet and gooey, musky and sweet. The marshy saltiness works stunningly well with the woody, wintergreen, pine sap with its slightly chilly, tarry briskness. The latter feels sometimes like resin pouring out of a pine tree, then boiled down to concentrate with brown sugar until it is simultaneously sweet, tarry, and wintery wood in one. My word, what an intoxicating start. Small tendrils of black smoke curl all around, adding to the richness of the notes and preventing any cloying sweetness. In a nutshell, Arso is smoky, piney, woody, dry, sweet, salty, and golden, all at once.

The black smoke grows stronger with the passing minutes, as do the dark, green coniferous elements. Arso evokes a campfire, complete with burnt leaves and singed, smoking wood, but this campfire is drizzled lightly in sweetness. Underneath, there is a touch of leather, but it’s never harsh, black, brutally raw or animalic. Instead, it’s aged leather, sweetened by the ambergris and piney resinous tree sap into burnished richness. Still, it’s not a predominant part of Arso at this point by any means, and it certainly doesn’t alter the perfume’s woody, piney, smoky essence.

Photo: David Gunter Source: Flickr (website link embedded within photo.)

Some people have compared Arso to Serge Lutens‘ Fille en Aiguilles, but I think the two fragrances share only surface similarities. The Lutens has a fruited component with its dark, plum molasses. There are strong spices up top, while the base is dark, purple-black and green in visual hue, as compared to Arso’s base of salty caramel-gold with black. The pine notes are another big difference. Arso feels as though pine needles have been crushed in your hands, but, for me at least, the fragrance never evokes the chill of a winter forest or Christmas time. It’s not because the pine is much more significant and potent in Arso, but more because it has been sweetened in a very different way. The ambergris lends it a salty quality, turning Arso much warmer, less brisk, and almost more honeyed than Fille en Aiguilles.

Source: Theatlantic.com

Perhaps more important, there is a substantial difference to the quality and feel of the smoke in Arso. It smells like juniper or cade, with a phenolic, almost camphorous tarriness that evokes leather and bonfire smoke. It’s sharper, more intense, blacker, and subsumed with the forest smells, instead of feeling more like temple incense infused with plums and spices. Lastly, on my skin, the smoky cedar is as dominant a part of Arso as is the pine. In contrast, Fille en Aiguilles is primarily fir and plummy fir resin. In short, Arso is much more purely woody, salty, musky, and leathery than Fille en Aiguilles which is much more centered on heavy frankincense with gingered sugar plums, spiced molasses, and brown sugar. I love Fille en Aiguilles passionately (and own it), but Arso is a fabulous scent in its own right and for very different reasons.

Source: wallibs.com

Both scents, however, evoke the very best of a forest. With Arso, it’s a landscape speckled with the warmth of summer’s golden light. The pine needles crunch under your feet, releasing their oils, and melting into an air filled with the aroma of a thick, rich, salty caramel. You know the smell of ice-cream shops that make waffle cones? Well, the note that is such a profound part of Dulcis in Fundo also lurks about Arso’s opening, though it is much more fleeting and minor. It is deep in the base, not the center of the fragrance, but there is a whiff of that same delicious sweetness in the ambergris’ rich undertones.

Josh Holloway who plays “Sawyer” on Lost. Source: momdot.com

Here, it mixes with the aroma of the great outdoors, a bouquet that conjures up images of Colorado’s vast vistas of dark pine forests, complete with a trickle of smoke spiraling out a small log cabin’s chimney. It is summertime, and everything is a blur of gold, green, and black. The man who appears is handsome but rugged, with a faint scruff of beard on his face. In my mind’s eye, I see “Sawyer” from the television show, Lost, the sexy, tough con man with an inner softness and golden heart. Arso fits him perfectly, with its rugged piney profile, saltiness, smoldering dark depths, leatheriness, and sweetened smokiness.

It takes about 4 hours for Arso to change. The first stage is all sharp, tarry, piney smoke with salty, golden, caramel ambergris, cedar, pine resin, forest greenness, and sweetness. The second stage is much drier, and more about the bonfire smoke and the leather. In fact, the latter occasionally dominates on my skin, though it feels like the result of the other notes swirling about than actual, hardcore leather in its own right. There is an animalic undertone to the note, as well as a sour edge that feels almost civet-like on occasion.

The leather vies with the tarry, black campfire smoke for supremacy, with both notes overshadowing the amber. The woody elements have retreated, especially the pine, though the cedar is still noticeable. I’m not a huge fan of the sour edge to the leather, and I’m substantially less enthused by Arso’s later stages than its opening, but I suspect that it is my skin which is responsible. It doesn’t help that the gorgeous, salty amber-caramel largely vanishes around the start of the 5th hour, turning Arso much darker and smokier. In its very final moments, the fragrance is merely a blur of abstract woodiness with a touch of dark leather and the merest whisper of bonfire smoke.

As with all of Profumum’s scents, Arso is not a very complicated scent, though it is much less linear than some of the line. The Italian perfume house seeks to highlight a handful of notes in the most luxurious, plush, opaque manner possible, and Arso is no generally different. However, I was surprised by how quickly the perfume felt thin and airy; it lost much of its concentrated, heavy richness around the 2.5 hour mark which is also when Arso turns into a skin scent on me. It is not a powerhouse of projection, either. I’ve worn Arso three or four times, and no matter the quantity, its sillage in the first hour hovers, at best, about 2 inches above the skin. The sharpness of the juniper-cade’s black smoke and leatheriness remains forceful for ages though, and the perfume as a whole is still easily detectable for the first four hours when sniffed up close. All in all, Arso’s lasts between 9 and 10.25 hours on my perfume consuming skin, depending on the amount applied. As always with Profumum scents, there are minuscule patches where the aroma seems to linger for about 12 hours, all in all.

I think Arso skews more masculine in nature, though women who love bonfire aromas, smoky pine, tarry cade, and leather fragrances will also enjoy it. I know a few who are big fans of Arso, but, generally, it is men who gush about it obsessively, falling head over heels for the tarry, woody smoke. Still, one woman on Fragrantica, wrote the following review:

Wow. I am so surprised. Arso is totally different from what i expected from the notes listed. I thought this was going to be a kinda brisk woodsy fresh forest scent; but instead its a thick dark caramel and tar. Tree sap being melted over a fire with cedar and pine logs. The beginning reminds me a lot of Mamluk (which came a year later). It settles into a cool dry *almost bitter* smooth leather scent

Im a girl and dont happen to find this too masculine smelling at all!!

Source: freeirishphotos.com

A male commentator, “raw umber,” had a very good description for the scent, writing:

Arso is a dry pine that is encrusted with sticky, highly flammable sap. It starts out Christmas tree, and ends up blackened fire pit. [¶] On the exhale, I get the faintest trace of something that has burned, like the smoldering remains of a campsite cookout.

The almost undetectable leather and incense provide a faint saltiness, which enhances the dimension of the burned smell as Arso dries down, but it never plainly spells LEATHER, or INCENSE. It’s projection and longevity are both very good.

The slightly charred pine is the feature here from start to finish. It is 100 percent unisex, and it can be worn whenever you wish to smell like you’ve been camping.

A few people hated Arso at the start, then suddenly fell in love. Take, for example, the assessment by “alfarom” who wrote”

Arso is possibly one of my biggest 180 so far. I always found it unbalanced, sort of too smoky but I was wrong! It smells so darn good.

Strongly resinous, incensey with a tad of sweetness during the opening and with leather hints throughout. A shy boozy note discreetely remakrs its presence druing the initial phase to slowly disappear leaving space to a slighlt sweet amber note while the fragrance dries down. Smells exactly like an estinguished campfire where they burned resinous pine, cedar and tones of dry leaves, smells of velvety white smoke, smells incredibly salubrious. Initally I thought about a mash-up between Fille En Aiguilles and Black Torumaline but overall Arso is less balmy, less sweet and as much as I love the Lutens and the Durbano, this one is much more wearable.

Surely among the best deliveries from Porfumum. Terrific!

There are a few others who initially hated Arso, too, like one chap who first thought it was a “no no” of masculine pine and harsh incense at the start, before suddenly finding, after 3 hours, that it was utterly addictive. The time made a difference, turning Arso smoother, softer, and “delicious.” He found himself “blown away” and, though he still preferred Serge Lutens’ Fille en Aiguilles, he found Arso much more wearable.

I am the opposite. I find my beloved Fille en Aiguilles to be much more approachable, perhaps because the smoke isn’t like extinguished campfires and there is no cade-like, tarry leather that feels sharp or a bit animalic at times. I’m not passionate about Arso’s dry final stage, whereas I love the Lutens from start to finish. It is simply a matter of personal preferences and skin chemistry, so I’ll stick with my bottle of Fille en Aiguilles, while admiring Arso for being a wonderful smoky, woody fragrance of a different kind. That said, I think Arso would be a great Christmas gift for a man (or woman) who loves intensely smoky, woody fragrances, or scents with a incense-leather profile. It’s wonderfully evocative, and very sexy.

DETAILS:

DULCIS IN FUNDO Cost & Availability: Dulcis in Fundo is an Eau de Parfum that only comes in a large 3.4 oz/100 ml bottle which costs $240 or €179. Profumum unfortunately doesn’t have an e-shop from which you can buy their fragrances directly. In the U.S.: the perfume is available at Luckyscent, which is currently sold out, but it is taking back orders for December delivery. Dulcis in Fundo is also carried at OsswaldNYC. Outside the U.S.: In the UK, Profumum perfumes are sold at Roja Dove’s Haute Parfumerie in Harrods. Elsewhere, you can find Dulcis in Fundo at Premiere Avenue in France (which also ships worldwide, I believe) and which also has Dulcis’ matching shower gel and body oil as well. The fragrance is also carried at Switzerland’s Osswald, France’s Le Parfum et Le Chic (which sells it for €185), Paris’ Printemps department store, the Netherlands’ Celeste (which sells it for €180), and Russia’s Lenoma (which sells it for RU16,950). According to the Profumum website, their fragrances are carried in a large number of small stores from Copenhagen to the Netherlands, Poland, France, the rest of Europe, and, of course, Italy. You can use the Profumum Store Locator located on the left of the page linked to above. Samples: Surrender to Chance carries samples of Dulcis in Fundo starting at $6.99 for a 1 ml vial. You can also order from Luckyscent.

ARSO Cost & Availability: Arso is an Eau de Parfum that also comes in a large 3.4 oz/100 ml bottle which costs $240 or €179. Again, Profumum unfortunately doesn’t have an e-shop from which you can buy their fragrances directly. In the U.S.: Arso is available at Luckyscent, and OsswaldNYC. Outside the U.S.: In the UK, the full line of Profumum fragrances is at Roja Dove’s Haute Parfumerie in Harrods. Elsewhere, you can find Arso at Premiere Avenue in France, Paris’ Printemps store, the Netherlands’ Celeste (which sells it for €180), Zurich’s Osswald, and Russia’s Lenoma (which sells it for RU16,950). For all other locations from Copenhagen to the Netherlands, Poland, France, the rest of Europe, and, of course, Italy, you can use the Profumum Store Locator to find a vendor near you. Samples: Surrender to Chance doesn’t carry Arso, but you can order from Luckyscent at the link listed above.

YSL Majestic Rose & Supreme Bouquet (Oriental Collection)

Posted on November 29, 2013 by Kafkaesque

YSL’s new Oriental Collection is a trio of fragrances that are meant to be “an invitation to travel” to the Orient. Each one is an eau de parfum housed in a gold-covered bottle, and offered in limited distribution at a very high price. The other day, I covered the toxic abomination that is Noble Leather. Today is the turn of the remaining fragrances in the line: Majestic Rose from the great Alberto Morillas; and Supreme Bouquet, created by perhaps the even greater Dominique Ropion.

MAJESTIC ROSE:

The most complete and detailed information I found for Majestic Rose comes from Osmoz which states, in part, that:

Source: Osmoz

Majestic Rose pays tribute to the queen of flowers. Rose goes animalic here, becoming one with the oud wood in the trail. […] Composed around rose, the fragrance starts by unveiling notes of bergamot, raspberry and papyrus. The rose heart is sweetened with honey and spiced with saffron and maté. The woodsier trail is composed of oud, guaiac and vanilla. Perfumer: Alberto Morillas, Firmenich.

Note of Top : Raspberry, Bergamot, Papyrus

Note of Heart : Rose, Mate, Saffron, Honeyed Notes

Note of Base : Vanilla, Oud, Gaiac Wood

Maté is not a common note in perfumery, and it plays a part in Majestic Rose’s opening, so I thought this description of it from Osmoz might be useful:

Tobacco, Herbaceous, Hay, Tea. […] Maté is a variety of holly that grows in South America. […] Used primarily in men’s perfumery to create fougere and chypre tonalities[.]

Source: apartmenttherapy.com

Majestic Rose opens on my skin with: indistinct, anonymous “fruit;” something very much like ISO E Super; stale, dusty, dry tobacco; fruited rose; dusty, dry parchment paper; cheap synthetic “oud;” dry, leathery, spicy saffron; and a hint of vanilla. Oh, did I happen to mention dust? The fragrance is the oddest mix of sweet syrup and dust notes. All I can think about when wearing it is actual dust in an old library that has been drenched in a thin layer of fruit syrup, saffron, and jammy roses, all sprinkled with astringent, peppered ISO E Super, synthetic tea, and a drop of honeyed tea. It’s an airy mix with moderate sillage, but the prickly, peppered, spiky, synthetic elements all give it a certain roughness and sharpness.

Majestic Rose may not be the toxic dust cloud of its brother, the vile Noble Leather, but it has its own share of chemicals. I would bet anything that the perfume contains Kephalis. It is a synthetic which smells a lot like ISO E Super, is extremely dry, and which Givaudan describes as a long-lasting note with an amber-woody-tobacco profile. As for all that dust in Majestic Rose, it may stems from the papyrus, but the sheer degree of aridness underlying the scent seems much more consistent with the super synthetic, Norlimbanol. It is produced by Alberto Morillas’ own firm, Firmenich, and has been described by Chandler Burr as “quite simply, the smell of extreme dryness, absolute desiccation.”

Source: The Guardian.

At its core, Majestic Rose is a dust, rose, and “oud” fragrance. Certain notes act as supporting players, waxing and waning in prominence, but the perfume’s essential profile doesn’t really change. Five minutes into its development, the vanilla in the base starts to stir, while the papyrus becomes stronger and more significant. Majestic Rose just gets drier, and drier. And drier. 15 minutes in, Majestic Rose loses much of its syrup, and the fragrance starts to feel like a dust bowl with synthetic peppered ISO E Super, bone-dry woodiness, and, in a wholly discordant mix, sweet pink roses. It’s almost disconcerting to smell the flowers given the other notes. It’s as though a single, fresh, pink rose were pressed in parchment paper scrolls, then stuck in a monastery’s library which hadn’t been dusted since the late 11th Century.

Thankfully, that phase is short-lived and only lasted about 40-minutes, but at least it was somewhat interesting and different. It’s a lot more than I can say for the rest of Majestic Rose’s development. As the dust recedes, the fragrance turns into a generic bouquet of syrupy rose, synthetic oud, and ISO E-ish chemicals in a cocoon of indistinct, abstract dryness. Hints of other things come and go, like vanilla and tobacco, or the merest drop of something that occasionally feels tea-like, but Majestic Rose’s main thrust is rose-oud (with synthetics). Needless to say, it’s not a particularly distinctive combination these days. In fact, something about Majestic Rose feels awfully familiar, but it’s hard to know which rose-oud fragrance it might be — there are literally hundreds of them.

Source: Ashes of Roses Designs, Facebook page.

I’ll be honest, I scrubbed off Majestic Rose after three hours. Normally, I would put up with an unpleasant fragrance, partially to see what happens but, primarily, for the sake of thoroughness. However, after the indescribable horror of YSL’s Noble Leather, my tolerance levels are wholly depleted. Moreover, I saw zero chance of Majestic Rose suddenly morphing into something different, it was giving me a mild headache, and I’m pretty much fed up with bad perfumes from YSL. So I had a Thanksgiving Day indulgence, even if that consisted of soap and aggressiveness with a loofah. You probably won’t be shocked to hear that Majestic Rose — like most very synthetic, chemical fragrances — was not easy to remove….

As with all the fragrances in the Oriental Collection, Majestic Rose costs £185 or €177 for an 80 ml bottle. At the current rate of conversion, £185 is $301. I’ll spare you a repetition of how inexpensive it is for individuals like you or I to buy a bottle of each of those synthetics cost in concentrated, undiluted form, or how little L’Oreal/YSL probably spent to make this fragrance. Suffice it to say that the cost of this fragrance is utterly ridiculous, given the ingredients and banality of the scent.

SUPREME BOUQUET:

Source: dubaidutyfree.com

According to Osmoz, Supreme Bouquet was created by the legendary Dominique Ropion of IFF, and it provides the following description of the scent:

Sweet and creamy, Supreme Bouquet is a perfume in Yves Saint Laurent’s Oriental Collection. Inspired by the mysteries of the Orient, the line is an invitation to travel. The house describes Supreme Bouquet as an escapade in an oriental garden. The fragrance is composed around white flowers.

Supreme Bouquet opens with notes of bergamot, pink pepper and pear. The heart pairs tuberose with jasmine and ylang-ylang. The slightly ambry trail is composed of white musk and patchouli.

Note of Top : Pear, Bergamot

Note of Heart : Jasmine, Tuberose, Ylang Ylang

Note of Base : Patchouli, White Musks, Ambry Notes

I’m a sucker for tuberose, so I perked up a little when I sniffed Supreme Bouquet back in Paris. It was still a very tempered response, however, and one that was wholly relative to my utter disdain for the other two fragrances in the Oriental Collection. On paper, it seemed moderately pleasant and pretty, but nondescript and lacking much originality.

The sad thing is that it’s actually much better on paper! On the skin, it’s merely yet another synthetic trip to disappointment. In a nutshell, Supreme Bouquet is like any fruity-white fragrance available at Sephora or at a middle-level department store. Actually, I’m pretty sure some celebrity fragrances are like Supreme Bouquet — right down to their chemical base.

Source: ilikewallpaper.net –

In the vial, Supreme Bouquet smells like a dewy, watery, sweet, white floral scent dominated by tuberose, and lightly infused with pear and white musk. On the skin, it opens with pink peppercorns, white musk, sweet greenish pears, and tuberose. The notes sit atop a base of synthetic, clean, white musk, a synthetic like ISO E Super, and fake “ambry” notes. The synthetics soon become as dominant as the supposedly natural notes, turning Supreme Bouquet into a very sharp, almost laundryesque white floral bomb with pear, pink pepper, and prickly, peppered, sharp ISO E Super. The perfume is a lot of things: it’s very sweet, very fresh, very clean, very white, and very synthetic — but not, alas, very interesting.

It takes less than five minutes for my skin to be radiating sharp, synthetic white musk and spiky ISO E Super infused with tuberose, pink peppercorns and pear. It gave me an instant headache. Only after an hour do the synthetics finally start to soften, retreating to the edges of the fragrance. The purple patchouli surges to take their place, turning the tuberose even sweeter and adding a much heavier, deeper, fruited touch. By the end of the second hour, Supreme Bouquet is fruity-floral with gooey, purple patchouli and still sharp musk over a sheer, generic, abstract “amber” base with ISO E Super. The jasmine is as prominent as the tuberose now, but the patchouli threatens to dominate them both.

Supreme Bouquet is a largely linear, simple fragrance. Only at the start of the 7th hour does it change, but it’s one of degree. The fruited patchouli is now equal to the tuberose, if not sometimes a bit more dominant, and both notes are trailed by lingering traces of peppered synthetic. Honestly, I see no amber whatsoever in the base. In its very final moments, Supreme Bouquet is merely an abstract blur of a fruited white floral. It lasted 10.75 hours on my skin, with sillage that was moderate only for the first hour but which quickly turned soft. The potency of the synthetic notes, however, meant that Supreme Bouquet was still quite sharp and easily detectable if sniffed up close. The perfume only became a skin scent after about six hours.

If you’re looking for a tuberose with fruity patchouli and synthetics, you should spare yourself Supreme Bouquet’s ridiculous price, and just take yourself off to Sephora, or a bargain basement to look for a celebrity fragrance. There are any number of places where you won’t be charged £185 or €177 for an utterly generic fruity-floral fragrance reeking of ISO E and white musk. Let’s not forget those pink peppercorns, either, something which is wholly passé as a perfume trend now but which was such a mainstay of commercial perfumery to go with the fruited patchouli and the white florals.

Dominique Ropion via fotomag.com.ua

It’s sad to see the great Dominique Ropion‘s name attached to something that, quite frankly, makes some of the Tocca line of perfumes look like high-quality masterpieces. He really is a superb perfumer; from Ysatis to half of the most famous Frederic Malle fragrances and many other celebrated gems, he is enormously talented. He’s also seems to be a wiz with florals, and tuberose in particular. For example, the famous Carnal Flower, Dior‘s white Pure Poison, and the sadly maligned Amarige. To go from Carnal Flower to this?! In fact, if you’re looking for a simple fruity-floral, you may want to go with the Tocca brand than YSL. Tocca’s Florence is a much better fragrance which also has pear, tuberose, jasmine, bergamot, and musk. In addition, it also has more nuance, thanks to gardenia, violet, iris, and apple; it lacks patchouli; and it is a much fresher, greener, less sickly sweet perfume. Plus, it costs $68, not $300.

I don’t blame Dominique Ropion, however, for the utterly generic, Britney Spears-like fragrance that he’s created. (Britney Spear‘s best-selling Curious has a similar tuberose, pear and musk profile, but also many more notes and no fruited patchouli.) No, in this case, I blame Ropion’s masters at L’Oreal, since the simple fact is that all perfumers must abide by the agenda, briefs, and price point set by the client. Still, there is no getting around it: Supreme Bouquet is not Mr. Ropion’s finest hour. I wonder if he was bored out of his mind making it? I certainly was while wearing it.

DETAILS:

Cost & Availability: Each fragrance in YSL’s Oriental Collection is an eau de parfum that comes in a 2.7 oz/ 80 ml bottle, and is subject to very limited distribution. The price is £185 or €177. The French YSL website and the UK YSL site both carry the Oriental Collection, but not the US one. In the U.S.: I haven’t found any American retailers thus far that carry the line. Outside the U.S.: In Europe, from what I’ve seen thus far, the Oriental Collection is most widely found in the UK and France. In the UK, and for Supreme Bouquet, the London links are: House of Fraser (which is discounting the scent at £148), Harvey Nichols, and Harrods. John Lewis is offering Majestic Rose and Supreme Bouquet at a slight discount with a price of £166 instead of £185. There are only 3 bottles left of each at the time of this post. John Lewis ships internationally to over 33 countries, and has free UK delivery. For Majestic Rose, the perfume is currently sold out at London’s House of Fraser, but it is available at Harvey Nichols. I couldn’t find it on the Harrod’s site, but I know they sell it. In Paris, I’ve read that the full line is available at the main Sephora on the Champs Elysees. In Ireland, Brown Thomas sells Majestic Rose and Supreme Bouquet for €205. In Russia, Orental has Majestic Rose and Supreme Bouquet. Airports: Finally, you can find YSL’s Oriental Collection at a number of airports. I myself tested it at Paris’ CDG International Departures, and I know it is also available at London’s Heathrow. I suspect the same applies at all other large airports. Samples: I obtained my samples from Surrender to Chance which sells the complete trio in a set starting at $13.99 for a 1/2 ml vial. Majestic Rose and Supreme Bouquet are also available individually starting at $4.99 for a 1/2 ml vial. Obviously, the complete set is a bit of a better deal.

Kafkaesque

Category Archives: Main Perfume Houses

LM Parfums Hard Leather: Lust In The Woods

DETAILS:

Guerlain L’Instant de Guerlain pour Homme & L’Instant Eau Extreme

DETAILS:

Try buying from Guerlain’s Boutique in Toronto, Canada.. For 75 ml bottle the price is $80.00 US dollars and free shipping to the USA.. In the USA I just dialed area code and number.. [¶] Serious.. And no tax..

Address: 110 Bloor St W Toronto, ON M5S 2W7, Canada

Phone: +1 416-929-6114
The package came within 3 days….And very important you need to sign for the package.

Profumum Dulcis in Fundo and Arso

DETAILS:

YSL Majestic Rose & Supreme Bouquet (Oriental Collection)

DETAILS:

DETAILS:

DETAILS:

Try buying from Guerlain’s Boutique in Toronto, Canada.. For 75 ml bottle the price is $80.00 US dollars and free shipping to the USA.. In the USA I just dialed area code and number.. [¶] Serious.. And no tax..

Address: 110 Bloor St W Toronto, ON M5S 2W7, Canada

Phone: +1 416-929-6114 The package came within 3 days….And very important you need to sign for the package.

DETAILS:

DETAILS:

Phone: +1 416-929-6114
The package came within 3 days….And very important you need to sign for the package.