DSH Perfumes Euphorisme d’Opium (The YSL Retrospective Collection)

Posted on March 28, 2014 by Kafkaesque

Natalie Portman by Mert & Marcus for W magazine, 2006. Source: photochronograph.ru

The Goddess now has a daughter. The ferocious, untamed, raw sexuality of vintage Opium has been handed down to a more restrained, less overtly voluptuous, quieter girl called Euphorisme d’Opium. She may be less bold, less likely to take your head off with fiery roar, but my response is: “Come to mama.” Actually, that was one of the ways that I wanted to open this review, since it was only slightly less inelegant than simply telling the legion of Opium fans to just get out their credit card. But get out your credit card. If you’re one of the many in the Opium cult, one of those who has mourned the passing of the “Bitch Goddess” (to use a friend of mine’s loving description for the YSL classic), then this is the time to rejoice. Euphorisme d’Opium from DSH Perfumes is as close as we’re going to get to reinvention of the Queen. She finally has a daughter.

Photo: Mert & Marcus for Interview Magazine.

There is nothing in the world like vintage Opium. Nothing. And there never will be. That needs to be stated right at the start. Absolutely nothing can or will ever replicate the precise beauty of that monster powerhouse down to a T. The reasons are simple, starting primarily with the scarcity of Mysore sandalwood which might as well be extinct for anyone not possessing massive financial resources. Modern IFRA regulations on eugenol, ceiling limitations on the quantities of various other ingredients, and the issue of animal musk are other supporting factors as well. Yet, to the extent that an olfactory daughter may be possible, Dawn Spencer Hurwitz of DSH Perfumes has done it.

Opium Den photo series for Interview Magazine by Mert & Marcus.

It’s not something I say lightly. Regular readers know that vintage Opium is my absolute favorite fragrance, and that I despise the modern monstrosity that purports to bear its name. Modern “Opium” is a castrati, a disemboweled, emasculated eunuch, and a utter travesty. (L’Oreal, you should be ashamed of yourselves, you despicable, parasitic vultures.) If anything, I’m likely to be much tougher on attempts to seize The Goddess’ mantle. If they fall short, you can be sure that I would rip it apart. No-one messes with my beloved Opium, and lives to tell the tale.

Dawn Spencer Hurwitz. Source: The Perfume Magazine.

To take on a reinvention of Opium is a very tall order. Apart from technical difficulties involving the ingredient restrictions, it probably cannot be done unless you have a deep love and understanding of who Yves St. Laurent was himself. The Indie, artisanal perfumer, Dawn Spencer Hurwitz, has that in spades, and it clearly shows. Euphorisme d’Opium is part of her YSL Retrospective Collection for the Denver Art Museum that I talked about in my review for Le Smoking. The latter is a gloriously beautiful fragrance that captures the very essence of what The Maestro was trying to do with his revolutionary, gender-bending jackets. And she’s done the same thing in capturing the essence, heart, and character of his Opium as well.

Euphorisme d’Opium in pure parfum and in an antique bottle. Source: DSH Parfums website.

The DSH website describes Euphorisme d’Opium as follows:

The original “YSL Opium” perfume, when launched was a scandal. Not only for the open drug reference but for it’s open sexuality and sensuality. Just as YSL was inspired by his beloved Morocco and the Orient, I have infused the original design of Opium perfume (which as of 2010, is no longer on the market) with some extra doses of the euphoric aromas that bring this enchanting Spicy-Oriental perfume to life.

According to Ms. Hurwitz’s comments to me in email correspondence, the notes in Euphorisme d’Opium include:

bergamot, bitter orange, bay laurel, pimento berry, mandarin, eugenol-based carnation, bulgarian rose absolute, cinnamon bark, aldehyde c-14 (aka: gamma-undecalactone – peach), clove bud, egyptian jasmine absolute, olibanum, east indian patchouli, eastern lily – mixed media accord, australian sandalwood, tolu balsam, benzoin, beeswax absolute, myrrh gum, pink pepper, ylang ylang, amber essence, atlas cedar, galaxolide, cedramber, indolene, and vanilla absolute.

Photo: Alamy. Source: The Daily Mail.

Euphorisme d’Opium opens on my skin with a strong burst of spices. Instantly, you are hit by cloves, black pepper, pink pepper, and the bite of fiery chilis. They are followed by orange and bergamot, both of which have been infused with patchouli and incense, and the whole thing lies on a base of golden amber. Moments later, other notes arrive. There are delicate pink roses, trailed by hints of jasmine and ylang-ylang. The most prominent thing, however, is a dark, blood-red carnation. It practical swaggers into an arena dominated by spices and incense. The latter is interesting, smelling of both the black frankincense variety and the dustier myrrh sort.

Source: 1stdibs.com

In fact, there is initially almost a dusty quality to Euphorisme d’Opium, subtle though it may be. It is evocative of an old spice drawer whose contents have been unsettled, blowing fiery, pungent, and peppered particles into the air like a cloud of red, brown, and black dust. They swirl into the fruits which are such a key part of vintage Opium’s beginning.

There is a particular opening accord in that famous fragrance that everyone knows, where the bergamot feels transformed almost as if by pungent oakmoss into something brown-green, bitter, but sweet. In the same way, the orange is never just a warm glow of sun-sweetened, heavy juices, but something more pungent, spiced, and rich. It’s a peculiar transformation due to the spices and accompanying elements in Opium, where simple fruits are turned into something completely new with a darkness and a bite.

Source: Flowerpics.net

That happens here, too, with Euphorisme d’Opium. The spices are not the sole cause. The carnation is critical, though a rich, brown patchouli helps to a small extent. In fact, the carnation note is extremely prominent in the opening phase, smelling both floral and a little like cloves as well. Speaking of the cloves, I really don’t find the note to be as bold or as strong in Euphorisme d’Opium as it was in the original. It’s a shame, as that is one of my favorite elements of vintage Opium, but it probably makes Euphorisme much more approachable for a modern audience.

Adele by Mert & Marcus for US Vogue, 2013. Source: meltyfashion.fr

That is one of the many early differences that I detect. The cloves are not as robust, the incense is much lighter, the perfume is much less smoky, there is no Mysore sandalwood adding to the spiciness of the bouquet, and the perfume feels substantially sheerer in the opening moments.

With Euphorisme d’Opium, there isn’t an instant impression of fiery red and brown, nor a sense of viscosity that blankets you with heavy, thick, almost resinous, almost mossy, primordial ooze. Though the perfume changes later on to gain more body and richness, the opening verges on the gauzy at times. Euphorisme d’Opium is strong and potent in actual smell, but the visuals convey sheerness, and the cloves don’t punch you in the gut in quite the same way. (It’s undoubtedly due to the rules and limitations on eugenol, though Ms. Hurwitz has tried to use an “eugenol-based carnation” instead.) To compensate for that fact, the levels of both the black pepper and the rose in Euphorisme d’Opium seem higher than in the original.

These are small things that only someone who has worshiped, studied, dissected, and worn Opium for almost 30 years would ever realise. Well, probably not the initial sheerness, as I think that is extremely obvious, but definitely the rest. For the most part, Euphorisme d’Opium has an extremely similar feel of spicy, pungent, smoky richness infused with orange and crisp bergamot fruits that are simultaneously bitter and juicily sweet. There is the same visual of a golden bed of amber, and the same sense of florals lightly swirled into the mix, but waiting to show off the full extent of their voluptuous character.

Ylang-Ylang. Source: Soapgoods.com

The first hints of that character occur less than 15 minutes into Euphorisme d’Opium’s development. First, the vanilla peeks out its head. Then, minutes later, the ylang-ylang starts to emerge, adding its slightly custardy, banana-y, richly yellowed, velvety opulence to the mix. Both notes grow stronger with every passing moment. The ylang-ylang takes over the lead from the carnation, while the rose recedes to the sidelines.

In the horse race that is Euphorisme d’Opium, a hint of cedar appears at the starting gate, while the jasmine suddenly bolts out of the blue to the front of the pack. Its syrupy sweetness vies neck and neck with the ylang-ylang’s velvet to create a floral brew that is rich, heady, and narcotic. The two leaders are trailed by the spice pack, then by the bitter-sweet bergamot and orange, incense, carnation, and patchouli. Amber and vanilla are a few lengths back, while the poor cedar is still struggling to get out of the gate. The rose now watches in the Kentucky Derby’s guest box, sipping on a cocktail, and admiring the ylang-ylang leader’s yellow silks.

The overall effect is to suddenly wipe out that initial impression of thinness and gauziness, adding body and depth to Euphorisme d’Opium. There is almost a voluptuousness about the scent, the same feeling of languid, purring sensuality that lay at the heart of vintage Opium. Yet, the differences from the original continue to manifest themselves. I don’t think Euphorisme d’Opium is anywhere near as heavily smoky or incense driven as vintage Opium. The focus seems more floral in nature, with the buttery ylang-ylang in particular being stronger.

“Tattooed Salome,” c.1876 by Gustave Moreau.

As a whole, Euphorisme d’Opium feels much softer in attitude, as well as in its notes. Vintage Opium was a “Spice King” for Luca Turin, biblical Salome in my eyes, and the ultimate “Bitch Goddess” for one of my readers. Euphorisme d’Opium is a tempting courtesan bedecked with smoke, spices, and heady florals, but she’s not going to rip your head off and stick a dagger into your heart if you cross her. She won’t shiv you with cloves after blinding your eyes with smoke. She won’t undulate in a slithering lap dance of dark, treacly, balsamic resins, and she won’t take away your willpower with a thick haze of heavy amber.

Opium’s daughter is much less slutty, less brazenly bold, less intense. She is a more well-behaved courtesan with a light heart who prefers to flaunt her floral robes instead, though those robes are still covered with spices and slit quite low in a suggestive wink.

Natalie Portman by Mert & Marcus for W magazine, 2006. Source: forums.thefashionspot.com

At the start of the 2nd hour, Euphorisme d’Opium shifts a little. The perfume loses some of the heft that it had gained, and becomes thinner again. The spices weaken as well, leaving a bouquet that is primarily centered on ylang-ylang, jasmine, bergamot, orange, and spices (in that order) with incense, patchouli and vanilla. The ylang-ylang and the jasmine are still in their horse race for first place, alternating places in the lead as Euphorisme d’Opium progresses. There is little carnation, the rose is still sitting in the visitor’s box, and the cedar is still trailing the pack. The smoke is well-blended throughout, but it really isn’t a powerful, solitary presence in its own right. In other words, it is not the hefty wall that exists in Opium, but a thinner veil.

1977 Opium advert featuring Jerry Hall. Photo: Helmut Newton. Source: Vogue.com

Perhaps the best way that I can convey the comparative feel of Euphorisme d’Opium is with numbers. If the original, vintage version of Opium (especially that from the late 70s) set everything at a 10 on the scale (or blew it out at an 11), then Euphorisme d’Opium starts out initially at an 7.5 across most categories, but creates the general sense of an 8. After 2 hours, the numbers then drop down to a 6 for the ylang-ylang, 5s for the remainder, and a 4 for the spices. (Opium would still be at a 10 at this point.) But these are good numbers for the DSH creation, given that the 2000 to 2005 versions of Opium are barely worth classification, in my opinion, and certainly nothing after that period. (I won’t even smell the current scent. To whichever L’Oreal executives approved the castrated eunuchs, I hope you’re plagued with nightmares for the rest of your miserable existence. Euphorisme d’Opium proves that it is possible to have a modern, reformulated Opium, you money-hungry idiots.)

Going back to Euphorisme d’Opium, the whole thing is cocooned in a golden embrace, but amber isn’t a strong component of the scent in any clearly delineated, individually distinct way. I don’t smell Euphorisme d’Opium and think, “aha, labdanum!” The amber works with the tolu balsam resin indirectly to create a warmth and richness that tie all the notes together, but they’re not a driving force.

2.75 hours into Euphorisme d’Opium’s development, the perfume is a soft intimate scent of spiced ylang-ylang and jasmine with bergamot, slightly dusty myrrh, an increasingly syrupy patchouli and dry cedar, atop a resinous, ambered base flecked with vanilla. The Australian sandalwood emerges in the base, though it doesn’t really smell of sandalwood in any particular way. Its primary characteristic is creaminess, which is helped by the lovely vanilla. Between the sweet jasmine, the velvety ylang-ylang, and that base, Euphorisme d’Opium feels incredibly smooth, feeling an elegant, sleek sheath that coats the skin like silk. It’s a rich scent up close, but far from opaque or heavy. From afar, the overall impression is of cloved, spicy florals with tendrils of incense.

Photo: bykoket.com

Euphorisme d’Opium continues to soften. As the 3rd hour draws to a close, the perfume is smear of spiced florals with incense, amber, and vanilla. Euphorisme d’Opium grows more floral, more vanillic, and less spicy with every passing hour. By the middle of the 5th, it’s an absolutely beautiful jasmine and ylang-ylang scent that is only lightly spiced, but fully infused with a creamy, slightly dry vanilla, and a touch of smoke. About 7.5 hours in, Euphorisme d’Opium is a sexy, delicate, intimate scent of creamy flowers with vanilla and a touch of smoke. It remains that way for hours and hours, feeling compulsively sniffable whenever I bring my arm to my nose. In its final moments, Euphorisme d’Opium is a mere blur of floral sweetness, fading away a huge 13.5 hours from the start. The longevity is fantastic.

I’m less enthused by the sillage. Vintage Opium was a powerhouse. Euphorisme d’Opium is not. Ms. Hurwitz has told me that she doesn’t like big sillage or scents that leave a taste in one’s mouth. She prefers for fragrances to be intimate. Euphorisme d’Opium is stronger than many of the fragrances in her line, but only if you apply a lot. I was given a small atomizer to test and, the very first time I applied Euphorisme d’Opium, I merely dabbed it on. I didn’t spray, but applied a decent smear. Euphorisme d’Opium turned into a skin scent on me within 20 minutes. It was strong in bouquet, but only if I put my nose right on the skin. Interestingly, however, my shirt that I also sprayed it on wafted a huge amount of fragrance, about 5 inches in radius at first. But my skin? Nope. So I tried 2 smears of Euphorisme d’Opium — that didn’t do much for me, either. The perfume turned into a skin scent on me after an hour.

While dabbing and small quantities are a lost cause, Euphorisme d’Opium is a whole different story with spraying. Aerosolisation always increases the power and potency of a fragrance, but that seems especially true for this scent. 3 decent sprays from my small atomizer created a soft cloud that wafted 2-3 inches above the skin. For the sake of comparison, a similar amount of vintage Opium projects well over a foot on me, while 3 sprays from an actual bottle will give me about 3 feet in projection. (God, I love vintage Opium!) But Opium’s daughter is a child of the modern age, of modern tastes, and, most of all, of Ms. Hurwitz’s preference for softer, intimate fragrances that aren’t force fields. Euphorisme d’Opium’s sillage drops an inch after 30 minutes, then another at the end of the first hour.

Source: abm-enterprises.net

It hovers a mere inch, at best, above the skin from the end of the first hour until approximately the 2.5 hour mark when it turns into a skin scent. However, it is still extremely rich, deep, and potent when smelled up close. And no voracious sniffing is required, either. Euphorisme d’Opium remains that way until the start of the 8th hour, which is when more effort is required, and when the perfume turns truly wispy and thin. It’s really lovely though, and the overall longevity on my perfume-consuming skin is fantastic.

There are no reviews for Euphorisme d’Opium on Fragrantica‘s entry page, but there are very positive assessments for the fragrance on blogs. On Bois de Jasmin, a guest post from Suzanna reads:

Euphorisme is based upon the original Opium formula, which DSH has enhanced. It sounds as if it might be dangerous territory, but DSH handles it smoothly, creating not a dupe but a chypre/Oriental for the 21^st century with delicious orange/pimento notes shining through a veil of carnation and spice. DSH added honey and pink pepper notes that were to the best of her knowledge not in the original. Euphorisme is seduction by spice.

The sultry Victoria at EauMG writes, in part:

Euphorisme d’Opium opens as a spicy bitter citrus and aldehydes over fresh florals – carnation and rose, and lilies. There’s a creamy peach that adds a freshness to this spicy floral. It has a cloud of spices – pink pepper, clove, cinnamon. The heart is a spicy floral sweetened by a raw, sensual honey. The dry-down is warm and smoky incense and resins. The civet adds a depth that you just don’t smell in modern perfumes. It’s an intoxicating fragrance.

Ava Gardner photo from EauMG’s review.

Opium fans are aware that in 2010 the perfume was reformulated. Euphorisme d’Opium is closer to the original but isn’t a 100% dupe. In relation to Estee Lauder Cinnabar (you can’t talk about Opium without speaking of Cinnabar), Euphorisme d’Opium is smoother and doesn’t have such an aggressive, growling top/opening. In comparison to the pre-reformulated Opium and Cinnabar, Euphorisme is sheerer and more approachable to a “right now” audience. For example, original Opium wore like an Afghan coat, Euphorisme d’Opium is more like a satin kimono sleeve robe with an exotic print.

For The Alembicated Genie, Euphorisme d’Opium is just as spectacular as the original, though she too notes differences:

As Oriental perfumes go, Opium was another gold standard of feisty, fierce spice-and-fire, and in Dawn’s version, it is nothing more nor one whit less spectacular than its inspiration. The carnation-clove-orange and cinnamon beginnings – a large part of what made the original so distinctive – are here dampened a bit compared to the Opium I remember, and since I recall Opium sillage trails so thick you could taste them (those were the days, people!), this is no bad thing. Instead, it’s Opium without quite so much of a perfume hangover the next day, brighter and lighter and altogether a glorious twist on a perfume so iconic, I don’t even have to locate my mini of the original. I close my eyes, and in a twinkling of that spice and that fire, in the benzoin, myrrh-laden, vanilla embers that spark and flame long, long hours later, I’m all there and still happily caught in that moment, singing “Hot Stuff” along with Donna Summer.

Photo: Joel Ryan/Invision/AP for Vivienne Westwood, London Fashion week, 2013. Source: Salon.com

For Undina of Undina’s Looking Glass, the fragrance was almost too strong from mere dabbing, and all about the red, spicy carnation:

Don’t let [the] plethora of notes confuse you: this is a carnation-centered perfume. Too bad that “pissed-off carnation” name had been already taken: in my opinion, it would have suited this fragrance much better than Serge Lutens’ one. I sample it from a dab vial sent to me by the perfumer and thought it was a very powerful perfume. I’m not sure I could stand it sprayed – this is how intense it is. I’m still testing Euphorisme d’Opium trying to figure out if I should go for a bottle of it – while it’s still available.

Clearly, the issue of strength is going to come down to a person’s perfume style, tastes, and what they’re used to. If you worship and wear (or wore) vintage Opium, her modern daughter will seem very well-mannered, though decently strong, and you should definitely spray Euphorisme d’Opium. Preferably, at least two good spritzes, or you may be disappointed. However, if you hated vintage Opium’s potency or don’t like perfumes that open strongly, then dabbing will be your best bet.

Photo: Matt Anderson via elements-magazine.com

If you’re someone who is ambivalent about vintage Opium or who only remembers the scent from your mother, let me emphasize that this is not your mother’s perfume. It is a very modern reinvention of the scent for the current era. Whether or not you like that version is really going to depend on your feelings about spicy florientals. Do you enjoy cloves? Do you like opulent, strong scents? Does the mere mention of carnation, jasmine, or ylang-ylang send you screaming for the hills? If so, then you should stay away.

Otherwise, please give Euphorisme d’Opium a try. It is my absolute favorite from the DSH line, followed by the beautiful Le Smoking with its green chypre opening and tobacco-cannabis ambered heart. My issues with the latter’s weak sillage and longevity shouldn’t dissuade you, especially if you get an aerosol spray sample, because the scent really is that lovely. It is absolutely worth a try. (You may want to just plaster it on.)

Since this is the very last review in my DSH Perfumes series, I would also recommend sniffing my third favorite from the brand which is Parfum de Luxe. Granted, I had an atypical expresso-licorice experience with that one, but I’m hardly alone in finding it wonderful and sultry. Other people also love the chypre-oriental with its tobacco head and labdanum amber heart, infused with neroli, tuberose, ylang-ylang, herbal notes, and darkness. And if you like gourmands centered on cinnamon that soon turn darker with resinous amber, then you may want to keep Cafe Noir in mind, while hardcore patchouli and amber-vanilla lovers will want to consider Bodhi Sativa and Vanille Botanique, respectively. (I would also recommend DSH Perfume’s Poivre, for a peppered-clove fragrance. I haven’t officially covered that one yet, and won’t for a long time, but I liked it quite a bit.)

I would like to add that all of these fragrances could be worn by men, especially Le Smoking and some of the darker scents listed above. That said, I do think that men who are unused to wearing ylang-ylang might find Euphorisme d’Opium’s drydown to skew slightly into the feminine territory. They need to try vintage Opium, because, honestly, they don’t know what they are missing out on. It is a fragrance which is a hundred times better, richer, spicier, and more “masculine” than its male counterpart (Opium for Men). As for the men who have already discovered the dragon’s roar of vintage Opium and love it, I think they would enjoy the daughter as well. Even if they own Opium, I would hope they would both be open to trying a modern take on the spicy classic. There is no way that a man couldn’t comfortably pull off Euphorisme d’Opium’s bold opening.

The 10 ml bottle of EDP. Source: Fragrantica.

For me, not all the DSH fragrances suit my personal tastes, especially given their intimate sillage. (Hey, I was weaned on vintage Opium at the age of 7. It became the standard baseline of what I thought was “normal.”) But I definitely want Euphorisme d’Opium. It’s wonderful, and I can’t get that silky smooth, delicious drydown out of my head. Plus, the perfume is affordable enough to enable spraying with wild abandon (and in quantities that would probably terrify Ms. Hurwitz) to get it more up to vintage Opium territory. Euphorisme d’Opium costs $55 for a 10 ml Eau de Parfum spray, and $125 for a 1 oz/30 ml bottle. (Other sizes, minis, and a pure parfum extrait option are available as well, with the latter being something I want to try before I make up my mind.) Even better, I can stop worrying about using up my stock of vintage Opium that I hoard like Smaug and his gold.

Euphorisme d’Opium is not the dangerous, fiery dragon that is her mother, she’s too well-mannered to be a brazen, biblical temptress, and she’s most definitely a modern girl who believes in intimate relationships, but she’s beautiful. Really beautiful.

Disclosure: Perfume sample courtesy of DSH Perfumes. That did not impact this review, I do not do paid reviews, and my opinions are my own.

DETAILS:

Cost & Availability: Euphorisme d’Opium is an eau de parfum that comes in a variety of sizes, as well as in a pure parfum extrait concentration. It is available exclusively on the DSH Perfumes website. The perfume is offered in: a 1 dram or 3.7 ml miniature-sized flask of what I think is pure parfum extrait for $45; a 10 ml EDP concentration spray for $55; and a 1 oz/30 ml bottle of EDP for $125. The elegant antique bottle of Pure Parfum Extrait is 0.5 oz and costs $198. Samples of the EDP are available at $5 for a 1/2 ml vial. In general, all orders over $10 will receive free samples of fragrances, with the number depending on the amount of your order. If you are outside the U.S., international shipping is available if you contact DSH Fragrances.

DSH Perfumes Bodhi Sativa & Vanille Botanique

Posted on March 26, 2014 by Kafkaesque

The wonders of patchouli and balsamic resins are the respective focus of two fragrances from DSH Perfumes. The first is Bodhi Sativa which presents patchouli in all its many facets, while the second is Vanille Botanique which actually focuses on Tolu and Peru balsams to create a dark, smoky, ambered fragrance that is infused with vanilla, then laced with civet for a slight touch of animalic muskiness.

BODHI SATIVA:

10 ml bottle of Bodhi Sativa. Source: DSH website.

The DSH website describes Bodhi Sativa as a “suave and elegant patchouli perfume with a sexy, bohemian twist: a note of cannabis is hidden in the mix.” The fragrance was Ms. Hurwitz’s entry in the “Summer of Patchouli Love 2011” / Peace, Love and Patchouli! project, and she wrote on her blog that she sought to make a summery, lighter patchouli, to the extent that was possible.

At the same time, however, Bodhi Sativa is a completely botanical fragrance, a fact which carries a particular significance. You might be wondering, what exactly is a botanical scent, and how does it differ from a regular “natural” fragrance? Well, in a nutshell, it really comes to essential oils in their most concentrated or absolute form. In other words, a 100% botanical fragrance is really like an attar in richness, though not all attars are heavy and dense in nature.

According to my email correspondence with Ms. Hurwitz, the notes in Bodhi Sativa are:

East Indian patchouli, brown oakmoss absolute, hemp, Indian davana, frankincense co2 extract, cassis bud absolute, champaca absolute, osmanthus absolute, beeswax absolute, dalmation sage, green mandarin, jasmine sambac absolute, lemon, grapefruit, centifolia rose absolute, galbanum, rosewood, australian sandalwood, buddhawood, Texas cedar, vanilla absolute, Tolu balsam, and benzoin.

Ms. Hurwitz added that a number of these elements form the “cannabis” accord mentioned on her website. In short, there is no actual marijuana in Bodhi Sativa

Painting by: Dorian Monsalve at dorianscratchart.com

Bodhi Sativa opens on my skin with seemingly every possible facet of patchouli imaginable. It’s a rich, dense, chewy bouquet of booziness, greenness, earthiness with wet, sweet soil, dusted with spices, infused with smoke, and then placed on a bed of ambered sweetness. The intensity of the cognac-like booze fades within minutes, however, leaving a very earthy, sweet aroma. Tiny hints of vanilla simmer underneath while green touches similar to wet leaves are nestled all around. A very brown tonality flitters about, feeling almost like decayed moss and humus, with a touch of sweet peat. At the same time, there is a definite aroma of hemp that smells like sweet hay. The whole thing is flecked by smoke, honey, and green woods.

It’s an extremely complex layering of notes up close, reflecting every single possible nuance of the main ingredient. From afar, however, the main impression is merely of a kaleidoscopic patchouli dominated by earthiness. The latter becomes even more prominent after 5 minutes, particularly once all lingering traces of the cognac fade away. Taking its place is the first suggestion of woodiness, led by the cedar, then the rosewood. I don’t detect any floral notes at all.

Bodhi Sativa is extremely concentrated and rich in feel, but it is also surprisingly airy. The perfume feels soft, and the sillage matches. 3 massive, long smears gives me just 2 inches in initial projection, and it drops down to just above the skin after 10 minutes. However, it remains there for the next two hours, wafting its dense, chewy, gold-brown-green hues. Bodhi Sativa only turns into a skin scent on me after the start of the 3rd hour.

Source: footage.shutterstock.com

The perfume starts to shift and change 20 minutes into its development. At first, it is merely the lightest touch of mint that doesn’t alter Bodhi Sativa’s dominant focus on sweet earthiness. I do like the latter, but I wish there were an edge to the soft mushiness. It’s hard to explain, but Bodhi Sativa feels a little too ambered and earthy at this stage; I think it needs more grit, spice, and smoke. The latter exists, but it’s more akin to the merest suggestion in the background. I realise that sounds nitpicky, but, for a true “patch head,” the differences between various scents can be as important and significant as a Merlot versus an Old Vines Zinfandel. I prefer my patchoulis more like the latter, instead of the former with its mild sweetness.

Source: Stock image. footage.shutterstock.com

At the 30 minute mark, Bodhi Sativa turns quite green. The camphor blooms, added a needed sharpness and edge to the sweet, earthy, ambered mushiness. Yet, Bodhi Sativa is not a true headshop scent. It’s more akin to a mix of Les Nereides Patchouli Antique mixed with Reminiscence’s Elixir de Patchouli, with a tiny side of Serge Lutens‘ Borneo 1834 (minus its strong chocolate note). Around the same time, the orange pokes up its head for the first time, but it disappears quickly, retreats to the sidelines, and only re-emerges on occasion later down the road. There are still no florals on my skin, but there is a growing whiff of the “cannabis” accord that adds a tobacco-like undercurrent to the increasingly green patchouli.

Bodhi Sativa is a largely linear scent that only changes by small degrees on my skin. As a whole, it is a blend of earthy, camphorous, sweet, and ambered patchouli with hints of cannabis, smoke, and tobacco. The main change over time is that the scent grows muskier, drier, and browner. The ambered sweetness slowly diffuses amidst the camphorous greenness, the impression of “cannabis”-like tobacco grows stronger, and the perfume takes on a slightly animalic edge. I’m assuming the latter stems from the cassis buds. The note is not feral, and it’s definitely not urinous; instead, it is more like an occasional glimmer of sharp muskiness.

Source: layoutsparks.com

Much more important than all of this is the tolu balsam in the base which fully infuses the patchouli after 4 hours. The resin is one of my favorites, but not here. There is something about the note on my skin that comes across as dirty, and it happened with Vanille Botanique as well. It’s hard to explain, but the tolu balsam has a very odd combination of brown muskiness, smokiness, staleness, and mustiness. It doesn’t feel like a well-rounded, warm, treacly resinousness, but a dank, leathery dirtiness with sharp smoke and stale, earthy brownness.

The note becomes a constant companion to the patchouli, almost seeming to dominate it at times, and transforms Bodhi Sativa into something that feels very much like an all-natural scent. The best way I can explain it is that Bodhi Sativa doesn’t feel like more than the more refined perfume perfumes in Ms. Hurwitz’s line. It’s hard to fault Bodhi Sativa for being exactly what it is, so I know it’s my personal issue, but I’m simply not keen on the end result. The mix of slightly camphorous patchouli with brown, musky dirtiness lasts for hours on my skin, thanks to the botanical concentration. All in all, Bodhi Sativa endured for just short of 13.5 hours, though the perfume was difficult to detect without hard sniffing right on the skin after the start of the 6th hour. It was around that same time that Bodhi Sativa also turned more sheer, feeling like an intimate coating of brownness.

Amongst the various reviews for Bodhi Sativa is one from the blog Perfume-Smelling’ Things. The site was one of the judges in a large perfume competition focused on all-natural patchouli fragrances from 13 different perfumers. I believe this is the “Summer of Love” patchouli project for which Bodhi Sativa was originally created. Donna ranked it in fourth place, writing:

It is a very serene, calming scent, minty “tea with milk” on me with a slightly sweetened gourmand aura to start, and later the tea subsides as the fragrance gets richer and warmer without becoming overly sweet or strong, and it’s as elegant as a polished stone. I enjoyed this fragrance very much and Dawn’s expert hand is apparent in the balanced execution. In fact it was this subtlety and smoothness that caused it to not quite make the cut since I felt that I wanted to choose a fragrance that had a strong patchouli character yet be something I could really like, and the project is all about patchouli. It’s a beautiful fragrance and I would definitely wear it, but for me it just did not have that standout patchouli zing I was looking for in the winning composition.

Source: rgbstock.com

The Scent Hive blog was another one of the judges in the competition, and chose Bodhi Sativa as one of the three favorites out of the entries in a blind test. The post reads, in part:

man, if you love the kind vintage patchouli, Bodhi Sativa is speaking your language. For me it doesn’t conjure up smoke filled VW buses, but its leathery and slightly animalic aspect combined with a rich and minty aged patchouli certainly alludes to the herbal smoke. I love that Bodhi Sativa is an unabashedly patchouli fragrance. It begins and ends with the tenacious essence, but because it is harmonized with some fruity-floral nuances- I’m guessing osmanthus and rose otto- it’s never one-dimensional and wears nicely as a summer scent.

For March at The Perfume Posse, patchouli isn’t her favorite note, but she also enjoyed Bodhi Sativa, writing:

This one smells the most like “classical” perfumery to me, with a heavy overlay of patch. It’s definitely a patch-oriented fragrance without being at all hippie-ish. The woods and incense really shine through, and that rosey-vanilla makes it warm and rich rather than floral. While I wouldn’t exactly call it light, and I definitely wouldn’t have busted it out in our August heatwave, it’s a fragrance I’d turn to in the winter months when I’m craving an “old lady” scent (high praise from me) with both heat and an edge to it.

Source: all4myspace.com

There is only one review for Bodhi Sativa on Fragrantica. There, “Leathermountain” writes:

Before looking at the notes, I smelled chocolate ink. Once I saw the notes, I could smell both of them quite potently. Later, it was back to chocolate ink. Very close to the skin, and delightful!

As noted above, I’m not as enthused as the other commentators. My reaction surprised me as I enjoyed the opening minutes of Bodhi Sativa, and quite expected to love the rest. Still, if you’re a hardcore patch head like me, you may want to check out Bodhi Sativa. It has an old-school style that you may enjoy.

VANILLE BOTANIQUE:

Vanille Botanique is quite a different take on vanilla. In fact, you might argue that it’s really not a “vanilla” scent at all. Instead, the primary focus is on dark Tolu and Peru balsams which flow through the scent with the thickness and turgidness of the Amazon river. Vanilla brackets the river on either side, but the main focus is always on those very smoky, treacly, almost leathered resins. Ms. Hurwitz has said that she is not a huge fan of traditional vanilla fragrances and, here, she’s twisted the genre on its head to create a more grown-up interpretation of the note.

Photo: Christopher Martin. Source: christophermartinphotography.com

Vanille Botanique is also a 100% completely botanical fragrance which the DSH website describes as follows:

Vanille Botanique is a luscious, balsamic vanilla in the classical style. A soft jasmine heart and bergamot top note balance and round out the bouquet. Such deliciousness!

1 dram mini bottle of DSH perfume. Source: DSH Perfumes website.

According to Ms. Hurwitz and Fragrantica, the notes in Vanille Botanique include:

Top: bergamot, rosewood, mandarin, lemon;

Heart: grandiforum jasmine, Turkish rose otto, beeswax absolute, butter co2 extract;

Base: Vanilla absolute, Tahitian vanilla, Siam benzoin, Tolu balsam, Peru balsam, tonka bean absolute, civet, and labdanum.

Source: seriouseats.com

Vanille Botanique opens on my skin with lemon and bergamot in a flood of syrupy resins, infused with brown sugar, an almost boozy Bourbon-like vanilla, and a touch of regular, custardy vanilla. On the one hand, Vanille Botanique feels like caramelized creme brulée but, on the other, it is pure resin. The latter smells simultaneously like sweetened smoke, sticky treacle, leathered darkness, and a touch of cinnamon. Within minutes, the lemon grows stronger, pirouetting around the vanilla and transforming the caramel into lemon curd topped by a brown sugar crust that is singed and dark.

Lemon curd. Photo: The NUmmy Little Blog at thenummylittleblog.blogspot.com

The vanilla seems to melt more and more into the river of treacly resins. The almost boozy undertone fades after 5 minutes, replaced by the subtle suggestion of something lightly floral. It’s all very rich, dense, and sweet. Yes, it’s even syrupy, but it’s resin syrup — dominated by almost leathery, smoky, darkness – not vanilla syrup. The lemon curd is a lovely accompaniment, and is joined by bergamot to add a touch of fragrant freshness that reminds me of the Earl Grey aroma in another DSH perfume. Soft, sweet, aromatic rosewood lurks about in the distant background as well.

Vanille Botanique is very dense in feel and extremely strong at first, but it’s quite light in weight. For all that the visuals are opaque, the perfume itself is not. Its sillage is soft on my skin, as are all the DSH fragrances. Vanille Botanique wafts 1-2 inches at first, drops at the end of the first hour to hover an inch above the skin, then turns into a skin scent at the start of the 3rd hour.

The perfume starts to turn smokier and darker 30 minutes into its development. There is a leathered subset to the resins in the same way that there is in original, vintage Shalimar, which has one or both of the balsams in question. Vanilla feels less and less of a focal point, though you can see it peeking out from behind the veil. It’s a dry vanilla, like the kind in Mona di Orio‘s Vanille, but without the latter’s heavy butteriness. After an hour, the lemon curd fades away, Vanille Botanique turns softer, and a touch of tonka appears, reflecting its cinnamon and slightly powdered facets. It’s a mere blip on my skin, however, and doesn’t last long. The jasmine never appears at all.

Source: darkroom.baltimoresun.com

Vanille Botanique shifts slightly at the start of the 4th hour. The perfume turns drier, and even darker. There is a definite leathery undertone to Vanille Botanique now, but it also has a dirty quality that I don’t particularly enjoy. One reason is the civet which becomes quite noticeable at this point. The other is the undertone to the tolu balsam that I alluded to earlier in my discussion of Bodhi Sativa. The two together combine into an aroma that feels almost like raw tobacco juice, infused with civet and with that dirty, musky tolu. It’s far from my personal cup of tea, which is unfortunate as that dark, earthy, brown dirtiness becomes a fundamental aspect of the dominant balsams on my skin. Custardy vanilla? No longer. No real vanilla of any kind on my skin, actually.

Source: dianafabrics.com

Vanille Botanique soon turns into a blur of dark sweetness dominated by the tolu balsam’s leathered, musky, rather dirty facets. At the start of the 6th hour, the perfume feels like it’s almost all gone from my skin except for a pungent, resinous, half-sweetened smokiness, but Vanille Botanique clings on tenacious. For hours. And hours. Finally, 12.5 hours from the start, the fragrance dies away, smelling resinous to the very end.

My experience is quite different than that discussed in The Perfume Magazine‘s feature on Vanille Botanique. The very detailed review reads, in part:

Although there is citrus in the top notes, Vanille Botanique is introduced as a basalmic vanilla fragrance from the get-go. Red mandarin is the most apparent of the citrus essences, but not in a zesty or sparkling manner. Rather, it lends a light dimension to Vanille Botanique, alluding to the fact that this fragrance never becomes weighty or thick. Having said that, Vanille Botanique is most substantial in the opening which is redolent of an aged rum that has been distilled in wooden casks.

Vanilla courses through the boozy liquid but like Casmir and Spiritueuse Double Vanille it’s seamlessly blended so while there are caramel tones and hints of brown sugar, it is absent of a foody quality or saccharine sweetness. A peppery, nutmeg-like spiciness also helps temper the vanilla and move forward with the buoyant theme.

While it’s important to state what Vanille Botanique is, it might be even more important to mention what it is not. There’s no smoke, or incense, and yes there are woods and resins in the notes, but it is not a woody fragrance per se. By contrast, it is evocative of balsams that have infused the perfume as a whole[.]

Dark, sticky vanilla inside the pod. Photo: Vanillareview.com

The lovely Victoria at EauMG loves Vanille Botanique, calling it one of the most indulgent, decadent fragrances she’s experienced in the genre. Her review read, in part:

DSH Perfumes Vanille Botanique is the most decadent vanilla themed perfume that has ever touched my skin. It’s so rich and luxurious that I almost feel guilty wearing it because it’s one of the most self-indulgent, lavish perfumes ever created. And that’s why I love it.

Vanille Botanique smells so good the opening is a rich vanilla complimented by old-fashioned mosses and a hint of retro florals. But, trust me, this is all about the vanilla. The vanilla in this is sweet, balsamic, rich and palatial. There is a faint hint of citrus. The citrus isn’t fresh or glimmering. It’s more like an essential oil smothered by the balsamic richness of the vanilla bean. There is more to this fragrance than just vanilla, I can pick up on that. BUT I mainly get a rich, balsamic vanilla that is thick like syrup but not overly sweet. Actually, it reminds me of tolu balsam. So there is a hint of “amber” and benzoin in this balsamic glazed tobacco-like vanilla. It’s a linear scent like Guerlain Tonka Impériale. I don’t care if it’s linear because I smell good for 15+ hours wearing this lavish perfume. […][¶]

Give Vanille Botanique a try if you like rich, dense vanilla fragrances that do not smell like baked goods or synthetic. Give it a try if you like rich gourmands like Tom Ford Tobacco Vanille, L’Artisan Parfumeur Vanille Absolument, Guerlain Spiritueuse Double Vanille and/or other gourmands by DSH Perfumes. This scent is a unisex vanilla like the ones I listed above. This is not a “light” vanilla, it’s super dense so keep that in mind. This isn’t sheer; it’s syrupy. [Emphasis to names added by me.]

Source: sharefaith.com

On Fragrantica, there are two reviews. The first talks about the labdanum aspect of Vanille Botanique, as well as the civet. Like Victoria at EauMG, “Sherapop” also finds a stylistic resemblance to L’Artisan‘s Vanille Absoluement, writing, in part:

DSH Vanille Botanique is a vanilla perfume for grown-ups. No sugar festival here whatsoever. Instead the scent is rather woody and oriental and barely sweet at all.

The labdanum is quite marked and there is some darkness imparted it appears by … civet! Well, this does not smell very animalic to me (maybe just a touch…), but it does smell very well blended and unisex. I find this just as well-blended as my favorite vanilla perfume, L’Artisan Parfumeur Vanille Absolument. This creation by DSH is akin to its savory analogue. [¶] Everything works together harmoniously in this composition, which I find to be a gorgeous wintertime perfume. [Emphasis to name added by me.]

The second review, however, is significant because it comes from someone who didn’t think the perfume lived up to the “vanilla” in its name and was a little disappointed:

The name…well a bit misleading. I would put vanilla way down towards the bottom of the list. This is all about the benzoin, labdanum & honey & a really unusual scent to me (maybe the civet). Oh, and I smell the rosewood, which I like. This is warm and honeyed but I’m not really sensing any florals. This is a very interesting perfume and I like that it is a bit different but unfortunately not what I was looking for.

I think her comment is extremely important because it highlights that Vanille Botanique is far from the conventional sort of vanilla fragrance. I disagree with a lot of the talk of vanilla in the other reviews because I think very dark balsams are the focal point of the scent. Ms. Hurwitz said as much to CaFleureBon, writing “I just love a good balsamic vanilla that is not really sweet but very, very rich and smooth.” I would add “very dark,” “musky,” and “smoky” to that list of adjectives as well.

In short, if you’re expecting a traditional, hyper-sweet, vanilla-centric scent, Vanille Botanique may disappoint you. This is not like some Victoria Secret or Mugler-style vanilla. It is a very dark, resinous interpretation of the genre that may be best suited to those who love amber and Tolu balsam in all its facets, including dark leatheriness and a treacly smokiness. Ideally, you should also enjoy a touch of muskiness as well. If drier vanillas on a deep, ambered base are your cup of tea, give Vanille Botanique a sniff.

Disclosure: Perfume samples were courtesy of DSH Perfumes. That did not impact this review, I do not do paid reviews, and my opinions are my own.

DETAILS:

Cost & Availability: Bodhi Sativa and Vanille Botanique are offered in a variety of different concentrations and sizes. I tested the Eau de Parfum version of both. The two fragrances are available on the DSH Perfumes’ website. Bodhi Sativa is offered in: a 1 dram or 3.7 ml miniature-sized flask of Eau de Cologne for $18; a 10 ml EDC for $33; and a 1 oz/30 ml water-based concentrated spray for $58. The Pure Parfum Extrait version in an 5 ml antique bottle costs $105. Samples of the EDP are available at $5 for a 1/2 ml vial. Accompanying body lotions and creams are available as well. For Vanille Botanique, the pricing is as follows: 1 dram or 3.7 ml mini of EDP for $27; a 10 ml decant of EDP for $58.50; and a 1 oz bottle of water-based concentrated spray for $58. There are a ton of matching organic body creams, gels and massage lotions. In general, all orders over $10 will receive free samples of fragrances, with the number depending on the amount of your order. If you are outside the U.S., international shipping is available if you contact DSH Fragrances. As a side note, Vanille Botanique is also offered on Indiescents in the 30 ml EDP size for $135. Samples: in addition to the samples available on DSH perfumes, Surrender to Chance offers Bodhi Sativa starting at $3.99 for a 1/2 ml vial of EDP. Vanille Botanique is not available.

DSH Perfumes Cafe Noir & Parfum de Luxe

Posted on March 25, 2014 by Kafkaesque

Source: en.visitparisregion.com

Expresso, licorice, amber, cinnamon, leathered tobacco, and smoky resins lie at the respective hearts of two sibling fragrances from DSH Perfumes. Cafe Noir was inspired by the jazz cafés of Paris at night, while the thought behind Parfum de Luxe stems out of the Art Deco movement of the 1920s and the French Riviera. One fragrance begins as a golden, buttered gourmand before shedding its skin to turn resinous, dark, and chewy. The other has dark expresso and licorice on my skin, with a surprising touch of decayed florals lurking at its edges that is replaced by leathery tobacco. Both, however, have their darkness end on a soft finish of vanilla.

CAFE NOIR:

Cafe Noir Pure Parfum in the antique bottle. Source: DSH Perfumes website

Cafe Noir is meant to evoke Paris jazz cafés at night. It is a 96% botanical eau de parfum that the DSH website describes as follows:

Cafe Noir is an oriental fragrance that harmonizes spice, floral, resin and wood notes with the beloved aroma of black coffee.

It is a Paris night. Dark and sophisticated, it evokes late concerts in smoke filled rooms…sipping coffee and listening to jazz. Captivating and sensual, Cafe Noir fuses classical sensibilities with the flair of the artist.

The notes, as compiled from Fragrantica and the tags on DSH Perfume, are:

Top notes: bergamot, black pepper, cinnamon bark, and pimento berry;
Middle notes: Siam Benzoin, Bulgarian rose otto, grandiflora jasmine, and labdanum.
Base notes: coffee absolute, tolu balsam, and vanilla.

Source: mainstreamsochi.blogspot.com

Cafe Noir opens on my skin with a delicious explosion of goldenness that is the furthest thing in feel from any dark, sultry café. Actually, it evokes Cinnabons, more than the world of Ella Fitzgerald in smoke-filled rooms at midnight. The opening bouquet is of boozy cinnamon with rich Bourbon vanilla, a touch of fiery chili, and the tiniest whisper of coffee. Cafe Noir is, first and foremost in these opening minutes, centered on a very powerful, buttered cinnamon note that really evokes a pastry dusted with spice, heavily buttered, and with a warm, fresh-baked bread aroma.

It’s a visual of gold and red in a scent that feels very comforting. Yet, for all its gourmand tendencies, nothing about Cafe Noir is sweet or cloying on my skin. The expected note is extremely muted, feeling more like a suggestion of coffee on the side. Oddly enough, there is a distinct Earl Grey tea impression that seems much more profound. The unexpected tonality undoubtedly stems from the very aromatic bergamot. I love the overall warmth and sweetness of Cafe Noir, the feeling of tea time centered around cinnamon buns.

Source: Dailymail.com

The boozy cognac fades away within minutes, and its place is taken by other elements. There is a waxy, honeyed note from the labdanum. Vanilla swirls around now as well, but the central focus of Cafe Noir after 10 minutes continues to be the blend of hot, buttered cinnamon rolls with Earl Grey tea. The whole thing gently wafts 1-2 inches above my skin in a deep, concentrated cloud that initially feels very airy.

The coffee soon vanishes entirely, and its place is taken by the occasional suggestion of abstract florals. Sometimes, I think I can smell ripe jasmine; once, I thought I detected rose; another time, there was also a fruity nuance that popped up. Yet, all of it is hard to pinpoint and lurks in the far corners of the background. For the most part, there is merely a sense of something vaguely “floral” that lurks about, but it is too nebulous and too well-blended into the other notes to be a significant part of the fragrance. The same story applies to the pimento chili pepper which appears once in a blue moon in a visible manner, but is generally subsumed into the overall bouquet.

Much more noticeable are the growing presence of dark accords. There is honey that feels syrupy and, often, quite burnt. There are also the labdanum and balsamic resins. The tolu in particular feels smoky, chewy, and almost masculine. By the end of the first hour, the three notes combine to wipe out the golden, gourmand, cinnamon haze of Cafe Noir, blanketing it with darkness that is a little bit smoked and singed. The sticky, burnt honey comes fully to the foreground, followed by the labdanum. It continues to emit the tiniest touch of honeyed beeswax, but its primary aroma is of a very dark, slightly masculine, tough amber. It feels dusted by pepper and a suggestion of pimento. Following the labdanum is the smoky tolu as the third main player on Cafe Noir’s stage.

Photo: naldzgraphics.net

Cafe Noir’s second phase is fundamentally different than its opening. Cinnamon continues to blanket everything, but this is a dry note now that feels almost woody at times. All suggestions of hot, flaky, buttered pastries have disappeared, while the Earl Grey tea is a mere blip on the horizon. At the end of the 2nd hour, Cafe Noir is a very dark, resinous amber with almost a smoky nuance. It is dusted by spices, then lightly flecked by vanilla and by the tiniest, muted touch of jammy roses. It is a skin scent by this point, but deep, concentrated, and very strong when sniffed up close.

Photo: sitnica.

Cafe Noir doesn’t change much for the rest of its life. The core of darkness merely reflects different secondary notes on the periphery, like occasional lingering touches of beeswax, spiciness, vanilla, or cinnamon. For the most part, it simply turns into a blur of smoky, resinoid darkness with an undertone that almost verges on tobacco’d leather at times. Cafe Noir continues to have a very concentrated, dense feel up close, but it’s also an increasingly sheer in weight. With every passing hour, the tolu balsam takes over more and more on my skin, adding to that leathery impression in the haze of smoky darkness. I’m really surprised by the complete 180 turn from Cafe Noir’s opening stage.

In its final moments, Cafe Noir is merely a wisp of something resinous and dark, with the tiniest suggestion of sweet, almost tonka-like vanilla mixed in. All in all, the scent lasted over 8.5 hours on my skin. The sillage was soft but generally decent for the first few hours, helped by the very dense, chewy feel to the notes. Even when Cafe Noir turned into a skin scent, it still was easy to detect up close until the start of the 6th hour.

Source: Pinterest and lattelisa.blogspot.com

The lovely Victoria at EauMG had a very different experience with Cafe Noir, but she loves it, calling it a “beatnik” chypre that conveys exactly the jazz café atmosphere that it intended. Her review reads, in part, as follows:

Cafe Noir is a moody, rich fragrance. I love it. I call it “beatnik in a bottle”. It’s smart and sophisticated and a bit counter-culture (if a perfume can be described as such). It reminds me of a classic French perfume created for the kind of gal that spends late nights/early mornings reading Lawrence Ferlinghetti by the fireplace, sipping on midnight black coffee. […][¶] This scent reminds me of “beat” poetry.

My first impression of this fragrance creates a bit of confusion in my mind. I know that I like it but I find it very odd. It hits as if it is a spicy, mossy, dirty, chypre. It smells a bit wild and untamed and actually hot. It reminds me of all of those classic Guerlains like Mitsouko but Cafe Noir is much dirtier and grittier and with a kick of spice. It reminds me of moss and Atomic Fire Balls. You just know like beat poetry, that this is a fragrance with so much to say. Once my mind finally gets that this is a dirty, spicy chypre, I get an unexpected “shot” of bitter coffee beans. To add to even more complexity, I get lovely “classic” perfumey. I get rich, thick Parisian florals of rose and jasmine. But, it isn’t classic because of the bitter coffee. The dry down is moody and fairly simple. It has smoky incense like copal rich sweetness with grounding notes of vanilla, labdanum, and balsam. It is like being in a room where incense was once burning. It is slightly smoky but mostly you get the sweetness of the smoke floating through the air. I can not imagine my perfume collection without Cafe Noir in it. This one is very special.

Photo by Satr via This Blog Really Stinks.

For This Blog Really Stinks, Cafe Noir was a romantic, sexy, cozy fragrance that was also about more than mere coffee:

Sure, there’s a beautiful coffee note present, but that’s not all! Let’s talk about the coffee, though, for a minute. Where New Haarlem (Bond No.9) was a bracing double-shot in a styrofoam cup, Cafe Noir is richer, softer coffee in a cup and saucer. The barista sprinkled some cinnamon in it, a spicy-sweet twist. […][¶]

Once the nose acclimates to the steaming coffee and delicate spice, it’s free to venture further. With the cinnamon coffee always present, a sexy floral blend wafts in. Jasmine and rose dance softly but distinctly, reminding me a bit of twin snakes of smoke and steam spiraling upwards from lit cigarettes and hot mugs.

Labdanum, a note I’m learning more about (and love), is probably what’s responsible for the somewhat creamy, ambery facet to this perfume. It’s the slightest bit like warm skin kissed by smoke.

Source: tomsguide.com

On Fragrantica, however, a number of the commentators found Cafe Noir to be all about the cinnamon. One person detected no coffee at all, and hardly anyone talks about floral notes. Some of the range of opinions:

Straight up, I get an unexpected blast of alcohol, specifically brandy, followed by the strong cinnamon that puts me immediately into a Christmas state of mind. Soon this settles and then the other notes mingle to create a comfort, feel-good scent. I don’t get strong coffee here, but it IS gourmand. It is more coffee bun dusted with cinnamon[….] In a way, this is also reminiscent of a BPAL in that the scent is so evocative and strong, you could be in the moment in that coffee shop…. with that bun.

Source: davidwarkentin.blogspot.com

Well the way I would rate the notes would be: 1. Cinnamon 2. Pepper/Pimento 3. Benzoin 4. Coffee 5. Vanilla 6. Tolu [¶] This to me is all about a nice hot latte with a heavy sprinkling of cinnamon on top of the foam while you sit quietly eating a warm cinnamon bun. This is gorgeous, warm and creamy but really for me the cinnamon is what takes center stage. A beautiful addition for fall and winter. This is just the perfect amount of spice without becoming a total spice bomb. I agree with the others, I don’t smell the flowers but I am sure they are helping the spices to stay grounded and not get too carried away!!! [¶] For a real caffeine kick I will stick with Ava Luxe’s Cafe Noir.

As a rule I have liked all the DSH perfumes I have sampled, however this one is very disappointing. I don’t smell any coffee at all, just cinnamon and amber. It’s also extremely sweet, almost sickeningly so. In its favour it lasts a few hours on my skin.

Cafe Noir is exactly that–a deeply aromatic, rich elixir that gives you a caffeine kick merely by absorbing it through your skin. [¶] The opening is piquant and dark and takes some time to diffuse, which is no surprise considering the viscosity if this natural blend. [¶] The flowers are not overt but deliver a roundness and subtle sweetness in combination with the vanilla. [¶] Labdanum, benzoin and tolu balsam give an exotic, ambery richness and a long lasting layered complexity. [¶] Incredibly indulgent and a well composed perfume which I think is suitable for both men and women. It makes me long for a cup of Turkish coffee with a piece of lokum on the side. I also find this a great natural alternative to Opium.

I find zero resemblance to my beloved Opium, but I do agree that Cafe Noir is a very unisex fragrance that both men and women would enjoy. I think some appreciation for cinnamon is in order, and, ideally, you wouldn’t have great expectations of a very coffee-dominated scent (or a floral one). If you are looking for a very resinous, balsam-heavy amber infused with spices, some smokiness, and varying levels of sweetness, Cafe Noir may be right up your alley.

PARFUM DE LUXE:

Parfum de Luxe in the more expensive Art Deco bottle, I think. Source: DSH Perfumes website

Parfum de Luxe was inspired by the Art Deco movement of the 1920s and ’30s, but it feels very much like Cafe Noir’s sibling. It too is an eau de parfum that is dark, resinous, smoky, and faintly leathered. To my surprise, it, too, manifested a coffee note on my skin. In fact, it was a substantially stronger one than the tiny blip in Cafe Noir, and was centered around bitter expresso.

Parfum de Luxe is a 94.5% botanical fragrance which the DSH website describes as follows:

A vintage style chypre-tabac perfume with subtle surprise praline and leather nuances in the drydown. It is eclectic and yet fabulously suave.

On the Riviera, I was overwhelmed by the charm and grace of my surroundings. The Perfume in the air was magnificent. Inspired by the Art Deco movement of the 1920´s and ´30´s, Parfum de Luxe is rich, pure and confident.

The notes, as compiled from a comment on Fragrantica and the general tags on DSH Perfume, include:

Top: bergamot, clary sage, neroli, petit grain and violet.
Heart: Bulgarian rose absolute, Centifolia rose, Chinese geranium, honey, iris, tuberose and ylang-ylang.
Base: amber, Siam benzoin, brown oakmoss, labdanum, patchouli, sandalwood, tobacco absolute, musk, and vanilla.

Source: free-hdwallpapers.com

Parfum de Luxe opens on my skin with crisp bergamot, herbal clary sage, leathered tobacco, and geranium, all on an earthy, musky base. The latter is infused with patchouli, dusty spices, what smells like cloves, a hint of oakmoss, and the tiniest touch of bitter, woody petitgrain. Then, for reasons that I absolutely cannot explain, something in Parfum de Luxe starts to strongly radiate bitter expresso on my skin, as well as black licorice and anise. I’m guessing that it must be some aspect of the tobacco, perhaps impacted by one of the other notes, but I’ve never had tobacco absolute turn to either expresso or licorice on my skin. Regardless, I’m rather keen on it.

Licorice. Source: Dylanscandybar.com

The licorice grows more prominent with every passing minute, evoking hard, chewy, black Twizzler sticks. The bergamot and oakmoss quickly fade, leaving a scent that is primarily centered on dark accords. After 10 minutes, a whisper of tuberose creeps in, though it too is infused with the expresso, licorice and tobacco. The whole thing is an extremely strong, rich, dense scent that initially hovers an inch above the skin with 3 large smears.

There are very few florals at first, apart from the bitter geranium and that whisper of tuberose. The latter frequently disappears, only to reappear ten minutes later, in a ghostly dance that goes back and forth. Once, I thought there was the faint suggestion of iris, but it too darts away every time I try to pinpoint it.

Source: SnapperOne Blogspot.

Parfum de Luxe slowly starts to shift. There is a honeyed nuance which appears, mixing with the licorice to create the impression of burnt caramel. Then, to my surprise, a very ripe, brown floral element arrives. It smells primarily like a decayed gardenia, similar to that in Serge Lutens‘ Une Voix Noire, and is mixed with the tiniest, most minuscule touch of an over-ripe ylang-ylang. Both flowers are blanketed by the licorice-like accord and the sticky, toffee’d, burnt honey, then lightly flecked by an earthy muskiness. Bitter petitgrain and geranium dart about throughout the top notes, but what fascinates me is the mushroom aroma in the background.

It is something I’ve encountered with gardenia, but never with tuberose, no matter how ripe or indolic. Then again, most “gardenia” notes are derived from the combination of other florals, like tuberose, so perhaps that is the explanation. Either way, the mushroomy earthiness is extremely muted and even more brief, lasting only about 10 minutes before it fades away. However, it leaves in its wake a little bit of funk to Parfum de Luxe’s base, which joins the leathered edge from the “licorice” that I cannot explain. None of it is what I was expecting from the notes, but it all works very well as a licorice-expresso fragrance with a touch of dying gardenia. I like the richness and depth to the scent, as it feels quite hefty despite the airiness of the bouquet.

Photo: stonecontact.com

Parfum de Luxe hovers just above the skin after 25 minutes, smelling primarily of licorice, sticky honey, expresso, and dark resins, followed by a decayed floral, musk, and the tiniest hints of tobacco. Vanilla creeps in from the sidelines 45 minutes into the perfume’s development. The floral elements melt into the background around the same time, letting the dark, resinous, and burnt honey accords dominate center stage. They are joined there by the first suggestion of something vaguely ambered and golden at the end of the first hour. There is a dense stickiness to this dark heart which is really appealing. It’s also very well calibrated and balanced, as it never feels cloying or like a saccharine overload on my skin, thanks to the bitter elements which help to keep the sweetness fully in check.

Parfum de Luxe turns into a skin scent on me shortly after the 90 minute mark, losing some of its resinous density and turning somewhat thinner in feel. However, it is still extremely strong when you sniff your arm up close. Interestingly, the tobacco finally starts to emerge in its own right, though it’s quite muted at first. Parfum de Luxe is now primarily an expresso and licorice scent, infused with burnt, caramelized honey and an occasional ghostly pop of vanilla.

Source: texeretrade.co.uk

The notes slowly start to overlap each other, losing their distinct, individual edge at the end of the 2nd hour. Parfum de Luxe feels like a blur of darkness, dominated primarily by expresso with growing touches of an abstract tobacco. The scent feels almost leathery at times. On occasion, an abstract “floral” tonality pops up in the background, but it is nebulous and hard to pull apart. Sometimes, I think I can detect a subtle strain of a jammy rose, but other times I think I’m just imagining it. The dark, resinous, somewhat bitter mass has only momentary hints of sweetness, but they always fade away. About 3.5 hours into Parfum de Luxe’s development, it becomes even harder to separate the tobacco and expresso from the general sense of a bouquet that is simply dark and balsamic.

Photo: stonehousetiles.co.uk

The one big change in all this is the role of the vanilla. It begins to grow more prominent, especially at the start of the 6th hour, and occasionally takes on a soft, powdered undertone reminiscent of tonka. It helps to soften Parfum de Luxe’s sometimes sharp, bitter edge from the expresso and tobacco, but only to a small extent. In its final moments, Parfum de Luxe is a simple smear of darkness with a hint of vanillic sweetness. All in all, the perfume lasted just over 6.25 hours on me, with generally soft sillage throughout.

I haven’t read of anyone experiencing black licorice or bitter expresso with Parfum de Luxe, but the core essence of a resinous, dark scent has been talked about by a few people. Victoria of EauMG has a lovely review of Parfum de Luxe which reads, in part, as follows:

This fragrance contains many, many notes. They all play off of each other nicely. However, when worn on my skin, I pick up sweetness. I get rich, raw honey. It’s sexiness verges on vulgarity. I love it. Yeah, at the initial wear I get a bit of the balsamy, purifying sage. But, that is blended with rich old-fashioned roses. (DSH uses the finest rose absolutes that I’ve ever sniffed). These roses are hard for me to identify because they are soaked in sticky, raw honey. They smell gourmand, candied, sticky, and sweet. Throughout the wear the honey really sticks on me (no pun intended). I do get buttery, creamy orris mixed with the honey. Sometimes when I wear this, I get the rich white florals but they have been baked into a buttery, honey cake. I must add that the orris and honey combo is lovely. It inspires me to add orris root to my next honey cake. (Perhaps toasted orris root?) I think it would be quite amazing. Anyways, back to this fragrance. The base still has sweetness. The honey doesn’t vanish but it does get quieted down by rich, resins and unisex mosses. This is the stage where I would definitely call Parfum de Luxe a chypre. It’s woodsy and mossy but still sweet with amber, tobacco, and vanilla. I want to call it a gourmand chypre if there is such a thing. Regardless if there is or isn’t such a thing, I know I like it. It’s delicious, rich, sensual.

Like I said, this fragrance wears very sweet on me. It’s all honey, candied/edible flowers, and rich, gummy resins. I find it very sexy and it is one that I love to wear in the fall/winter. Its richness warms me up on cool, damp, classic Western Washington days. [¶][…]

It is long-lasting and it smells expensive. I think this would be a nice replacement for Tom Ford Private Blend’s retired Moss Breches [….][Emphasis to name with bolding added by me.]

Source: posterpal.com

Perfume-Smellin’ Things has a brief comparison of Cafe Noir and Parfum de Luxe, at least in terms of their feel and visuals:

Café Noir is meant to re-create the vibe of a Paris night at a club during the Jazz Age. It has a very vintage feel, with a bit of Habanita’s decadent soul in it, and it is definitely one of those “handle with care” scents that are better suited for a hot date than a job interview. It has Black Pepper, Coffee Absolute, Tolu Balsam and Vanilla Absolute, among other things. Its “sister scent” is Parfum de Luxe and I am pretty sure she is the older sister. Café Noir is the intriguing gamine with the short dark hair, but Parfum de Luxe is a Cool Blonde with lots of money and spends her summers on the Riviera. It is meant to bring to mind the Art Deco movement, and it smells very French indeed[.][Emphasis to names with bolding added by me.]

On Fragrantica, there is only one review for Parfum de Luxe. “Sherapop” writes:

I’ve been celebrating the arrival of cold weather for its most notable virtue: the sudden suitability of labdanum amber-based oriental perfumes!

DSH Parfum de Luxe is a dense and rich blend of a variety of oriental base elements and flowers which ends up smelling somewhat dirty to me. Perhaps the oakmoss and clary sage are somehow producing an animalic effect? I do not believe that ambergris (as opposed to labdanum amber) is present here, but the overall effect is slightly naughty smelling.

Whatever the source of the dirtiness of this scent may be, Parfum de Luxe is clearly brothel-ready and probably a good choice also for those who find straight-up labdanum amber perfumes too boring. I would place this composition in the neighborhood of such creations as Cartier Le Baiser du Dragon and Must. A very heavy scent. [Emphasis to names with bolding added by me.]

The particulars of my experience may differ substantially from those of other people, but I think all of these other reviews fully capture the feel and mood of Parfum de Luxe. Even the talk of dirtiness makes sense, though I don’t think Parfum de Luxe is skanky, and it definitely isn’t ripe like a brothel scent. The one area where I sharply disagree is with Perfume-Smelling’ Things’ comparison to a blonde, for Parfum de Luxe feels quite as dark as its Cafe sister. Actually, substantially darker, since it lacks Cafe Noir’s golden, gourmand beginning.

“Fire Storm” by Marina Petro. Source: marinapetro.blogspot.com

I think both scents are strongly unisex and could be worn by anyone who appreciates dense, resinous Orientals with amber and various levels of sweetness. Both Cafe Noir and Parfum de Luxe have substantial heft, and a heart of darkness. One is more smoky after a gourmand start that focuses on cinnamon, while the other is more bitter with expresso, licorice and burnt honey, but both turn into a very resinous, dark, ambered scent with a slightly leathered or tobacco’d nuance. That said, the differences between the two are significant enough to warrant trying both, if you’re interested, especially given how other people experienced significantly more floral or chypre accents from one fragrance to the next. In both cases, however, Cafe Noir and Parfum de Luxe are very well-done, interesting, and rather sexy with moderate to good longevity that could probably be increased further by generous spraying. So, if you’re tempted, give them a sniff!

Disclosure: Perfume samples were courtesy of DSH Perfumes. That did not impact this review, I do not do paid reviews, and my opinions are my own.

DETAILS:

Cost & Availability: Cafe Noir and Parfum de Luxe are both Eau de Parfums that are offered in a variety of different sizes, as well as in a pure parfum concentration. All versions are sold on DSH Perfumes’ website. Cafe Noir is offered in: a 1 dram miniature size flask of EDP for $27; a 10 ml EDP for $63; and a 1 oz EDP for $135. The Pure Parfum Extrait version in an 10 ml antique Art Deco bottle costs $125. Samples are available at $5 for a 1/2 ml vial of EDP. Additional Parfum Extrait options are available as well. For Parfum de Luxe, the pricing is as follows: 1 dram mini of EDP for $27; a 10 ml decant of EDP for $63; and a 1 oz bottle of EDP for $135. The Pure Parfum Extrait starts at $125 for a 5 ml antique bottle, and goes up in price from there. In general, all orders over $10 will receive free samples of fragrances, with the number depending on the amount of your order. If you are outside the U.S., international shipping is available if you contact DSH Fragrances. As a side note, Cafe Noir is also offered on Indiescents in the 30 ml EDP size for $135. Samples: in addition to the samples available on DSH perfumes, Surrender to Chance offers Cafe Noir starting at $3.99 for a 1/2 ml vial of EDP. Parfum de Luxe is available for the same price.

DSH Perfumes Nourouz and Ruba’iyat

Posted on March 24, 2014 by Kafkaesque

Last week was Persian New Year, so I thought it was an apt time in my series on DSH Perfumes to cover the brand’s two Persian-inspired fragrances. The first one is Nourouz, which means “New Year” and which is specifically intended to celebrate the March holiday. The second is Ruba’iyat which Dawn Spencer Hurwitz says was inspired “by the Persian poetry form of the same name, and traditional oudh designs of the region.”

NOUROUZ:

1 dram mini bottle of DSH perfume. Source: DSH Perfumes website.

Nourouz is a natural eau de parfum that also sometimes goes by the name Tamarind/Paprika. The DSH website provides the following description:

A rich, round, smoky-incense nuanced perfume within a classic fruity-chypre design style.

Nourouz, the name for the New Year celebration traditional in Persia, is as exotic as it’s name. Based on luscious tamarind and sensual paprika, this is a perfume that smolders and sizzles.

The notes, as compiled from Fragrantica and the tags on DSH Perfume, are:

Top notes: Black Pomegranate (accord), Paprika, Tamarind
Middle notes: Bulgarian Rose Otto, Orris, Osmanthus, East Indian Patchouli.
Base notes: Oppopanax, Red Wine notes, Tobacco Absolute, Vanilla Absolute.

Source: banoosh.com

Nourouz opened on my skin with pomegranate and tart, tangy, tamarind molasses, all dusted with dry, somewhat dusty paprika. A lovely, dark, wine accord runs through it, smelling almost like a cherry cordial, but without the latter’s extreme sweetness. A glimmer of vanilla darts in between the various tangy notes which are really lovely in their originality.

Nourouz’s opening recreates the sense of original ingredients very well. When I was in India, I loved to eat packaged tamarind that was partially a type of solid molasses that was stuck together with lumps of the whole pods, all infused with salt. And I love pomegranate juice in general, so it is a lovely surprise to see how well that aroma is captured here. I’m less enthused by the fact that Nourouz opens as a really intimate scent that hovers just barely above the skin, regardless of how much I apply.

Source: impfl.com

Nourouz shifts quite quickly on my skin. A delicate, very pale, pink rose creeps onto the scene after 10 minutes. The perfume also turns into a complete skin scent at this point which makes it harder to detect its nuances. For the most part, Nourouz’s opening bouquet smells primarily of very tart, tangy, dark fruits with a cherry-tamarind aroma, lightly flecked by a pale rose and a drop of vanilla. Then, five minutes later, the osmanthus arrives, smelling of apricots with the faintest undercurrent of black tea and leather. At first, it is a mere flicker but the osmanthus soon grows increasingly prominent, overshadowing the tamarind, wine, and even pomegranate accords.

Osmanthus. Source: en.wikipedia.org

What was interesting to me was what happened when I applied a double dose of Nourouz. Then, the fragrance opened with the osmanthus, followed by hints of tobacco absolute and smokiness. The latter both faded away quickly, replaced by the pomegranate and tamarind notes. The wine was very muted, as was the paprika on my skin, and there was virtually no rose at all. Instead, there was the tiniest hint of something powdery, presumably from the iris/orris accord. Yet, even with the higher quantity, Nourouz still turned into a skin scent after 10 minutes. It was simply much more concentrated when smelled up close.

Regardless of quantity or test, Nourouz soon ends up in the same place on my skin: an osmanthus-dominated fragrance with tea, followed by dark fruits and the occasional whisper of smokiness. After 45 minutes, it is a wisp of osmanthus and tea with vaguely fruited nuances and a touch of abstract dryness. There is the occasional suggestion of something lightly soapy that appears deep in the base, but it is muted. Nourouz fades away shortly thereafter as a blur of abstract fruity florals. The perfume lasted 1.5 hours with the amount I usually apply in perfume testing (2 large smears or the equivalent of 1 spray of perfume), and 2 hours with double that quantity.

On Fragrantica, there are 4 reviews for Nourouz, two of which are quite positive. One person, “Sherapop,” writes:

This perfume goes through three very distinct stages on my skin and for my nose. It opens like Christmastime with lots of spices and the feeling of a fir tree or maybe potpourri? Either way, it’s very festive feeling. Then the scent suddenly smells for a brief period like a rubbery leather. I have no idea what could account for it, but that’s what I smell (and I’ve worn it a couple of different times).

By the drydown, DSH Nourouz has become a beautiful rich oriental with a touch of sweetness and something indescribable which might be the tamarind? What a ride! Very interesting.

Tamarind paste. Source: foodsubs.com

Another commentator thought that Nourouz was “most delicious with sweet, dark seduction”:

Initially tamarind is present with a little tartness to complement the dark pomegranate perfectly. Paprika isn’t too spicy but rather delivers an earthy depth.

I love osmanthus as its warm, apricot-like floral scent is perfectly paired with the soft, smoky tobacco. Rose and orris further soften the composition creating a feminine allure.

Opoponax is one of my favorite notes and combines well with vanilla and red wine accord to tantalize the senses without being overwhelming.

Nourouz has made it to one of my most favorite DSH fragrances. Well blended and elegantly delicious all the way.

The other two posters were not as excited. One commentator, “Doc Elly” (or Dr. Ellen Covey of Olympic Orchard perfumes) specifically mentioned Nourouz’s longevity which was only an hour on her skin:

This one is a little disappointing, not because of the scent itself, but because it seems weak. It’s basically a subtle rose-violet scent with a few unidentifiable notes modifying it. After testing it and finding that it faded in an hour, I looked up the description on the DSH website, where it lists the base notes as things like opoponax and red wine. These seem more like top or mid notes rather than base notes, so it’s not too surprising that there’s no longevity. The scent is nice, but a little too delicate and fleeting for my taste. I’ll pass on this one.

I’m afraid the sillage and longevity are an issue for me as well.

RUBA’IYAT:

DSH Perfume in the 5 ml antique bottle. Source: DSH website.

Ruba’iyat is a natural, 100% botanical eau de parfum that is based “on a traditional, middle eastern style Oudh oriental scent.” The DSH website adds the following:

Inspired by the Persian poetry form of the same name, and traditional oudh designs of the region. Created for indiescents.com, Ruba’iyat is a glorious all botanical middle eastern oudh, incense, saffron, and spice perfume.

The notes, as compiled from a comment on Fragrantica and the general tags on DSH Perfume, include:

Galbanum, Spicy notes, Davana, Gallic Rose Otto, Rosa centifolia, Saffron, Myrtle, Geranium, Indian Sandalwood, Oud, Frankincense CO2 absolute, Myrrh, Patchouli, Labdanum, Cumin, and Ambrette CO2.

Source: hdwallpapers.lt

Ruba’iyat opens on my skin with a potent blast of galbanum that is sharp, green-black in visual hue, and verging on the leathered. It is imbued by an equally sharp tobacco note, and a very skanky element that is almost civet-like, in addition to being a little sweaty. It clearly seems to stem from the combination of ambrette and cumin.

Davana. Source: hermitageoils.com/davana-essential-oil

Seconds later, the davana arrives on the scene, smelling intensely of apricot fruitiness. In its trail are rose, more cumin, smoky incense, and a dark note that feels like very dark, rather tobacco-like leatheriness. I suspect the latter stems from the oud mentioned in Ruba’iyat’s description, but I really don’t smell agarwood in the way that I’m used to. Instead, it comes across primarily as a sort of leathered tobacco on my skin.

The overall effect is interesting with a profile that is incredibly pungent, sharp, leathered, green-black, fruity, smoky, and animalic, all at once. There is an intense, dirty, sweaty undertone that clashes with the fierce galbanum and the intense fruitiness of the davana. Rose swirls all around, feeling sticky and jammy, while incense seeps out from every corner. Despite the latter, I keep thinking of how Ruba’iyat’s very dominant galbanum element evokes memories of Robert Piguet‘s Bandit, only in a very fruited, apricot embrace that is dusted with cumin and skank. In the background, there are flickers of fuzzy, peppered, piquant geranium leaves that feel a little bitter and that add to the green-black visuals.

Less than 10 minutes Ruba’iyat’s development, the perfume starts to shift. The saffron rises up from the base, smelling sweet, lightly fiery, and with a bite that is almost like chili pepper at first. It wraps itself around the rose and davana in a way that is really pretty, especially once the galbanum mellows out. As its pungent bite fades, only the strong veil of “leather” (oud?) remains. It is skanky, smoky, and covered with treacly, resinous labdanum. Spices lurk at the edges, particularly a clove-like note. There is also the faintest suggestion of a wine or cordial-like undertone, as if the rose and patchouli had combined with the dark leather and spices to create a deep, Italian Amarone wine impression.

Source: wallpho.com

Ruba’iyat seems to mix masculine and feminine traits in a very clever way. I have competing visuals of, on the one hand, blood-red liqueur that borders on the black with tobacco, pungency, skank and sharp smoke, but, on the other, feminine, juicy apricot florals nestled amidst geranium green leaves and sprinkled with gold-red saffron. The cumin retreats to the background after 15 minutes, but the ambrette continues its animalic skank in a way that is reminiscent of the sharp opening of Serge Lutens‘ Muscs Koublai Khan. I don’t mind it but some other parts of Ruba’iyat are a little too pungent and sharp for me.

Apricot slices. Photo: Steve Albert at harvesttotable.com

At the end of the first hour, Ruba’iyat is a pretty, fruity floriental centered around juicy apricot, leather and tobacco, followed by sharp incense, warm amber, patchouli, rose and animalic musk. The pulpy apricot is potent, concentrated, and deep, but it also starts to take on a peach undertone as well. The whole thing wafts a mere inch, at best, above the skin.

Gallic Rose Otto via trade.indiamart.com

Ruba’iyat remains largely unchanged for the next few hours, with the main difference being the order and prominence of some of its notes. The rose becomes more significant after 90 minutes and starts to resemble the rose-water syrup used in a number of Middle Eastern pastries. It even retains the same sort of light saffron dusting. At the end of the 3rd hour, Ruba’iyat is a jammy apricot rose with “tobacco,” sharp incense, musk, a dash of saffron, and a very leathery, dark undertone. Eventually, the perfume turns into a simple fruited floral with darkness and a musky, earthy tobacco note. Sometimes, the rose is more individually distinguishable, but usually it is the apricot-peach impression. In its final moments, Ruba’iyat is a blur of fruitiness with dark earthiness.

I gave Ruba’iyat two full tests, using different quantities. When I used 2 large smears or the equivalent of 1 spray from a bottle, Ruba’iyat lasted just under 6 hours. With a double dose, however, Ruba’iyat lasted 8.5 hours. In all cases, the perfume was very concentrated and strong in feel, but the sillage hovered just above the skin at first. Ruba’iyat only turned into a skin scent with the higher dose at the end of 2 hours, but it was very easy to detect up close for hours on end.

Saffron. Source: Photos.com

There are two reviews for Ruba’iyat on Fragrantica. The first one is from a chap who adores the scent, despite being less than enthused about cumin (or oud):

Oh my. Cupid has finally found a DSH arrow with my name on it and I am overcome with love. This has one of my least favorite notes (cumin) and my observation has been that there’s an oudh meme with most niche perfumers right now whether it makes sense or not(oudh and spaghetti! Yes!) so I had few expectations. Instead I find a lush rich bazaar of notes that are warm, spicy and beautifully layered. This may be the best saffron scent I’ve experienced to date. Spices and resins predominate and even after wearing this several times for hours it’s difficult to pick out individual notes but this stuff is wonderful. This perfume has enough personality that I’d strongly recommend a sample before a bottle–your feelings about this will not be lukewarm.

Sillage: reasonable, 1-2 ft
Longevity: several hours
Fabulosity: the 1,001 nights
Value to price ratio: very good
9/10

Ground cumin. Source: savoryspiceshop.com

The second review comes from “Sherapop” and is not as positive, primarily because of the cumin:

DSH Ruba’iyat is a very complex oriental perfume, with a lot of potent players vying for attention. […][¶] What to say about this concoction? I find it rather kaleidoscopic, with wafts of this and that popping up and then fading out as they are bumped off by other equally strong scents. I detect the saffron, cumin, and davana the most. Since cumin and davana are not my favorite notes (to put it mildly), this is not my favorite perfume from DSH.

I imagine that guys who enjoy cumin-centric fragrances might like this composition a lot. Definitely a try-before-you-buy is in order.

I agree with her. This is a scent that you should test, especially if you are undecided on the issue of cumin. For me, personally, my difficulty stemmed not from the cumin, but from the mix of somewhat strange, brown, tobacco-y earthiness infused with sharp pungency and muskiness. The apricot, however, was very nice.

At the end of the day, neither fragrance suits my personal tastes or style, but they are both interesting and feel very original. If you’re a fan of osmanthus or tamarind, you may want to consider Nourouz. By the same token, if apricot is your thing, and you would like to see it paired with animalic skankiness, dark notes, oud, and incense, then you may want to consider Ruba’iyat.

Disclosure: Perfume samples were courtesy of DSH Perfumes. That did not impact this review, I do not do paid reviews, and my opinions are my own.

DETAILS:

Cost & Availability: Nourouz and Ruba’iyat are both Eau de Parfums that are offered in a variety of different sizes, as well as in a pure parfum concentration. All versions are sold exclusively on DSH Perfumes’ website. Nourouz is offered in: a 1 dram miniature size flask of EDP for $18; a 5 ml EDP in an antique bottle for $115; a 1 oz/30 ml EDP size for $140; and an Extrait Pure Parfum version in an antique bottle in a 0.25 oz size for $155. Samples are available at $5 for a 1/2 ml vial of EDP. There is also an accompanying body lotion, and special Holiday Collection Coffret, where 12 different holiday fragrances in the line (including Nourouz) are offered in sample size vials for $48. I don’t know if the size is 1/2 a 1 ml or a full 1 ml. For Ruba’iyat, the pricing is as follows: 1 dram mini of EDP for $28; a 10 ml decant of EDP for $55; a 5 ml antique bottle of Pure Parfum Extrait for $115; and matching body lotions and creams. Samples are $5 for a 1/2 ml vial of EDP. In general, all orders over $10 will receive free samples of fragrances, with the number depending on the price of your order. If you are outside the U.S., international shipping is available if you contact DSH Fragrances.