Kiste 2015 was my favourite release from Slumberhouse at the time of its release. The new Kiste 2022 is, arguably, even better, thanks to a tweaking of notes and ratios.
Jeke 2022 is an interesting creature. It’s nothing like the original Jeke but it’s also not the same fragrance from one wearing to another in terms of its development, the strength and unfurling of its notes, or the ways that various materials combine to create impressions of entirely separate materials. There are a whole list of recreated scents aromas that have me utterly confused, uncertain as to whether they are the result of the listed materials have exceedingly complex facets or whether they ensue from unlisted notes. For example, I have no explanation for the savory, culinary herbs that appear on my skin, nor for the profound impression of vetiver.
Further, as alluded to up above, Jeke 2022 is prismatic – never the exact same way twice in terms of its details or nuances – though its basic gist remains the same from one test to another. As a result, the format of this review will differ from my usual style.
Ore 2022 is not Ore 2009 or even the Ore circa 2013 that I tried – and that’s fascinating as a historical development for those of us who have followed Slumberhouse for years. The original (or 2nd version?) Ore was replete with pure Scotch whisky of the wonderful single-malt variety, infused with dry cocoa powder, butterscotch, smoky woods, dark resinous amber, peppermint, and a hint of green herbs. In fact, as I wrote back then: “It’s hard not to think about drinking when you wear Ore, a dry, woody, sweet, and virtually alcoholic fragrance that swirls about in a rich, unctuous, deep bouquet that can be compulsively sniffable at times.”
The new Ore of 2022 is a somewhat different creature on an olfactory basis. That’s not better or worse; it’s just different. As it turns out, however, Ore 2022 is just as enjoyable as its predecessor. I just don’t know whether die-hard Slumberhouse loyalists will feel the same way.
Opulent iris butter as thick as cream turned ashen from cinders dropped by smoked woods; grey floral suede and leather wrapped up in vapours of pink and red, first from carnation, and later from roses; the flanks of an animal heated from an afternoon ride, its golden muskiness pulsating softly through its heartbeat to cling to your cool hands as you stroke fur that is as smooth as satin and infinitely creamy — these are parts of the tableau painted by New Sibet, the latest fragrance from Slumberhouse and it’s quite a departure from the brand’s usual style. Gone is the rugged aesthetic of old created from dense, forceful, practically opaque bases imbued with sweetness, spices, or brooding darkness.
Instead of nature-based landscapes slashed with colour and loaded with weight, this is a coolly elegant, sophisticated scent, soft and vaporous, worn with sleek city suits, furs, or cashmere, and constructed in a fashion that is often as much about tactile texture as it is about scent. Often, even more so, because it’s frequently an impressionistic scent where its elements are sensed almost on a subconscious, intuitive, and subliminal level rather than an actual one, its notes a suggestion that pass on the breeze — there and, yet, not there at the same time. It is scent that is often rendered through a filter, notes tinted in sepia hues like an old photograph, and it’s all done in a way that is extremely artistic and sensory.