AbdesSalaam Perfume Course – Part I: The Pre-Course, Theories & Philosophy

Artwork by Lisa Dietrich (part of her Spirit Art collection): www.lisadietrich.com

Artwork by Lisa Dietrich (part of her Spirit Art collection): www.lisadietrich.com

How do you describe the experience of a lifetime that introduced you to new worlds, theories, sights, and smells? How do you convey the depth of information so generously shared by a master of his art through six intense days (and a pre-course) covering both theory and practical usage? Perhaps one way would be to compare it to an olfactory Star Trek, where Captain AbdesSalaam Attar took many of us through a new frontier where few of us had gone before, through a portal into a new dimension of thought as much as scent and perfume creation.

It may sound silly or hyperbolic, but it really isn’t. AbdesSalaam tried to teach us a completely new way of thinking about scent through concepts that, as you will see in this post and others, are completely untraditional, unconventional, or alien to typical fragrance narratives, let alone the mainstream perfume world. The sheer quantity of information was staggering, and that combined with the unique experiences during the course truly blew my mind. Not just mine, either. When the lunch break was called on the first day, one of my classmates said she felt as though she was having an out-of-body experience at the deluge of information and the intensity of the smells that were pouring over her. Like the essences we explored, the class itself became a form of life undiluted — life at its most essential, fundamental level, concentrated for a burst of raw, thrilling intensity that none of us would ever forget.

AbdesSalaam's logo, based on his own calligraphy. Photo: my own.

AbdesSalaam’s logo, based on his own calligraphy, on one of his bottles. Photo: my own.

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I’m Back: Perfume Classes, Italy, Seeing The Pope & More

The Victor Emmanuel monument in Rome. Photo: my own.

The Victor Emmanuel monument in Rome. Photo: my own.

Hello everyone! I’m back from my trip to Italy, and it was quite an experience. There were some very memorable highlights, like taking AbdesSalaam Attar‘s 6-day perfume course on a mountain-top outside Rimini and, later, in Rome, accidentally stumbling upon a papal event in St. Peter’s Square and seeing Pope Frances less than 2 feet away from me. Florence stood out for its wonderful new artisanal food hall and its graffiti’d, foodie statue of David, while Siena’s UNESCO World Heritage site cathedral made my jaw drop in awe.

The trip as a whole had its highs and lows, and it wasn’t quite the restful vacation that I had anticipated, if I’m to be completely honest. One reason why is that Italy was going through a severe heat wave and was the hottest it had been in more than 30 years. Even Italians complained. And you know it’s terrible when the Vatican sends out several of its firefighters to St. Peter’s Square to hose down the crowds so that they don’t collapse in the sun while waiting for the Pope. No, I’m not joking. I went for a hosing myself, twice, only to become dry within minutes.

Photo: my own.

One of the several firefighters in the square, hosing down the crowds. Photo: my own.

Brutal, blinding heat aside, it was quite an interesting experience to see the Pope. The event in question was an international youth group rally, and “Papa Francesco” went through the crowds twice in his Pope Mobile with surprising accessibility and minimal protection, before participating in a lengthy ceremony along with the Bishop of Rome and various senior Vatican officials.

I stumbled upon the event quite accidentally, and managed to take a short video of the Pope. Frankly, I’m rather amazed any of it came out, let alone in focus, since I couldn’t see a single thing I was filming in the glare of the sun and was simply aiming in the Pope’s direction with the hope that I was capturing him. The video does go a little wonky at the end in terms of angles, so I apologise in advance; I’m not at all proficient in filming videos (I think this was the 2nd one I’ve ever taken), but, if you tilt your head, it should work.

Another fun, completely unexpected thing was seeing a vibrant, passionate group of young Italians performing Brazilian drums in the light of the setting sun at the Colosseum. I’d visiting the iconic structure hours before, then walked through the Palatine Hill and the Roman Forum, before taking the Imperial Forum Way (not its official Italian name) up to the massive, white-marbled Victor Emmanuel monument. I hadn’t planned to walk back down to the metro, but was glad I ended up doing so because I came across this group performing for a large crowd at the base of the Colosseum. Everyone was dancing, happy, and smiling, impacted by the infectious exuberance of the young Italians whose group name is Bekhanda. (Bekhanda has a Facebook page, if you’re interested.) I managed to squeeze my way to the front of the crowd, and take this small video of them:

Florence's graffiti'd version of the famous statue of David. Photo: my own.

Florence’s graffiti’d version of the famous statue of David. Photo: my own.

I took several thousand photos, all in all, from historical sites to food, art, museums, Tuscan landscapes, perfume shops, Santa Maria Novella, and more. Initially, I had planned to share some of them with you in a handful of “Travelogue” posts, the way I did after I came back from my trip to France, with photo galleries and explanations, as well as one post devoted solely to Italy’s amazing food scene. I’d thought of posting it after I shared my series on the Via del Profumo / AbdesSalaam Attar‘s perfume course, but I ended up concluding that a travelogue would probably bore the majority of you and I should stick to perfume.

So, in the days ahead, I will be focusing on writing an in-depth, multi-part report on AbdesSalaam Attar’s seminar, from the subjects we covered, to the many fragrances we each made, the theoretical and concrete approaches to perfumery, the animalic rarities we got to handle (like, a Musk Tonkin deer gland from 20 years ago, now prohibited in perfumery, to an almost 10,000 year-old fossilized piece of Hyraceum/African Stone, musk-rat glands, civet, castoreum, etc.), and more. There will be a lot of photos to accompany each post, but here are a few as an early preview:

Our classroom. Photo: my own.

Part of our classroom with the perfume organs of essential oils and absolutes. Photo: my own.

Photo: my own.

Photo: my own.

Hyraceum or African Stone, fossilized remains approximately 8,000 to 10,000 years old.

Hyraceum or African Stone, fossilized remains, approximately 8,000 to 10,000 years old.

Musk Rat gland.

Musk-rat gland. It’s a lot smaller than this extreme close-up makes it appear.

Inside a 20-year old Musk Deer gland from Kashmir. Photo: my own.

Inside a 20-year old Musk Deer gland from Kashmir. Photo: my own.

Simple, basic, and portable distillery set-up. Photo: my own.

Simple, basic, and portable distillery set-up. Photo: my own.

Some of the many perfumes I made. Photo: my own.

Some of the many perfumes I made. Photo: my own.

Musk Deer Gland inside a jar. Photo: my own.

Musk Deer gland inside a jar. Photo: my own.

The course may have been only 6 days in length, but it packed in a massive amount of information. As one of my classmates said after just the first night, it “was 2 years of perfumery in one day.” For me, it was a steep learning curve because the raw materials smelt worlds apart from what I deal with normally, and frequently were nothing like their typical counterparts in blended, semi-synthetic, finalized scents. For example, the oakmoss essential oil smelt not one iota the way I normally expect and know “oakmoss” to be in blended, finished perfumery. Even for those students who had prior and extensive experience with essential oils, the superior quality of AbdesSalaam’s materials rendered them just as different. Out of 7 people, only 1 person could identify blindly the oakmoss for what it was, and that was because he’d used it before. This oakmoss was so dark and thick, it was virtually black, sometimes smelt like licorice or tobacco, and I wouldn’t have been able to identify it properly if I’d had a gun to my head. It was the same story with a few other things like, for example, “Violet Leaves.” Some materials were infinitely better in real form, like real, actual vanilla which had a surprising woody undertone and was a vast improvement on the chemical, sugary vanillin found in most fragrances. Some surprised me — like tuberose essential oil which smelt strongly of porcini mushrooms to my nose — while several new animalic essences were a complete revelation, like African Karo Karunde paste or Buchu, an African herb which I loved in the bottle and on a strip of paper, but which I found to be more aggressively animalic than even hyraceum when used in an actual fragrance. (Apparently, it’s so intensely animalic than not even Bertrand Duchaufour who has used Hyraceum in the past has dared to make a fragrance with Buchu.)

One of the many wonderful aspects of the course was the camaraderie between the group, an unexpected closeness and unity akin to the very best days of university. There were seven of us, coming from around the world with different backgrounds, reasons for being there, and levels of experiences. And, yet, we bonded in a really intense way, amazed by the flood of sensations and smells, overwhelmed (in a good way) by the extent of new information, and enjoying the undiluted intensity of life in AbdesSalaam Attar’s remarkable world.

One of several dishes that made up just one course in the 7 courses extravaganza we had at a restaurant in Coriano. Photo: my own.

One of several dishes that made up just one course in the 7 course extravaganza we had at a restaurant in Coriano. Photo: my own.

Some of my favorite, non-perfume parts of each day were the early morning breakfast sessions on the patio of the lovely Germano Reale where we stayed, and the late night chats hanging out in “our living room,” the outdoor area of sofas near some of the rooms. There, we talked about perfume, the classes, our lives, and more, bonding over bruised feet and the heat, and laughing over misadventures, like the time we unintentionally ordered a 7-course feast suitable for 20 people instead of 7 at one restaurant, and drove back with two of us squashed in the tiny trunk of the car. It’s hard to explain how connected we all became, the close chemistry between us, and how we continuously helped or supported each other, both in the classes and beyond. Suffice it to say, I know I’ve made several friends for life, and that is not something I ever anticipated or expected.

As I’ll explain in my series, the course exposed us to much that was new, different, or unique — with constant guidance and encouragement from our teacher, who ended up being the very best, most awe-inspiring thing of all. All of it was a once-in-a-lifetime experience that either challenged me on an intellectual, sensory, and olfactory level, or was just plain fascinating.

Our distillation of cypress essential oil, gathering at the top of the tube. Photo: my own.

Our distillation of cypress essential oil, gathering at the top of the tube. Photo: my own.

There was so much that filled each day that I don’t really know where to begin in describing it. The merest tip of the iceberg included such varied things as: olfactory and marketing psychology; learning about perfume archetypes, olfactory language, ethics, aromatherapy, and the important role of pheromones; creating perfumes from a client’s brief (like, in one instance, how to combine seaweed, cocoa, and hay as the main notes in a perfume, along with coffee, mimosa, and lavender, all in a way that smelt remotely decent), while also creating a variety of scents for ourselves, including our “signature scent;” tincturing a huge chunk of real ambergris, in addition to distilling fresh cypress; learning how to smell the quality differences between different grades of distilled oils; learning the supply basics and practical realities in starting one’s own perfume business; and exploring rare animalics, including eating 7-year old civet paste which, as one person put it, “smells like rancid yak butter.” (It really does, and so much worse, though the actual taste on the tongue wasn’t quite so bad as the smell in the jar. And neither of them reeked as horribly as the musk-rat gland!)

In short, it was incredible, from start to finish. Grueling at times, but truly an experience that I will never forget. I fear I won’t be able to describe it all properly or to do it justice, but, in the days to come, I shall do my best.

[UPDATE: here are Part I, Part II, and Part III on the AbdesSalaam Attar perfume course. Part II includes a lot of food photos for those of you who asked!]

La Via Del Profumo Oud Caravan No. 3 & Cuba Express

Yesterday, we visited Tarzan in a forest of oakmoss vetiver but, today, we’re going on Oud Caravan No. 3 in the Sahara before taking the Cuba Express. Those are two fragrances from AbdesSalaam Attar (“Dominique Dubrana“) of La Via del Profumo, and I’ll look at each one in turn.

OUD CARAVAN No. 3:

Source: fanpop.com & pinterest.

Source: fanpop.com & pinterest.

Oud Caravan No. 3 is an eau de parfum and the final part of a trilogy that was originally created in conjunction with a 2011 Basenotes project called the Oud Caravan Project. On his website, AbdesSalaam Attar explains that No. 3 is a true, authentic agarwood fragrance and, as a result, its opening and head notes are not for the faint of heart, even though the oud’s fangs have been muzzled here as compared to the first two entries in the line. He also elaborates on the nature of true, Middle Eastern oud which I think might be important for those of you accustomed to the very inauthentic or diluted Western sort which, frequently, isn’t even real agarwood at all. I’ve taken the liberty of formatting AbdesSalaam’s single-line description into paragraphs for reasons of space and it reads, in relevant part, as follows:

Oud Caravan via La Via del Profumo website

Oud Caravan via La Via del Profumo website

For those who want to know the real Oud. […] Oud Caravan N° 3 is the last and final version of the Oud Caravan project. A rich, lushful fantastic Oud. It is an authentic Oud, wild and full fledged, hose animalic notes have been at last tamed.

Real Oud is not a perfume for all. It is not an easy scent to wear, you must have a lion’s heart. He is somehow like the mythical Dragon, if your inner force is too weak you will not bear it. In the Oud Caravan N°3 the Dragon has been briddled and saddled, made ready for you to ride him.

Sourc: alamy.com

Sourc: alamy.com

Oud is the perfume of the Bedouin princes of the desert. I have tempered with exotic fruitty notes the aspect of excessive power that caracterize the head notes of a good Oud. A good Oud must be excessively powerful and long lasting. The initial heaviness is a natural characteristic of a quality Oud but the beauty of this essence is in its heart and end notes.

The head notes of Oud have to be overcome by the wearer and not all have the energy for that, but thesse notes are indeed those who give the greatest joy to the real Oud lover. My aim was to smooth and temper the initial notes and to control their energy in order to make the scent real Oud accessible to a greater number.

Oud is comparable to the date tree of the Arabs, difficult to climb because of the dangerous needles of its leaves, but when you overcome this, you reach a treasure of sweetness, the ripe fresh dates. It is more easy to enjoy the date tree sitting under its shade than by climbing it and eating its dates, likewise it is more easy to smell the sillage of a prince wearing real Oud than to wear it oneself. Oud Caravan N° 3 is like a date tree where the leaves have been cleaned of their sharp needles so that the treasure of sweetness of the fresh dates is easily at hand.

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La Via Del Profumo Oakmoss (“Tarzan”)(“Muschio di Quercia”)

For the next few days, I’d like to take you a trip around the world, starting with a visit to Tarzan in a forest of vetiver green before going to the Sahara where bedouins travel on camels in an oud caravan and finishing in Cuba where men drink coffee, smoke cigars and wear spicy cologne. It’s a journey that was actually created in Italy by the master perfumer, AbdesSalaam Attar (“Dominique Dubrana“) of La Via del Profumo. The fragrances will be Oakmoss (nicknamed “Tarzan”), then Oud Caravan No. 3. and Cuba Express. Today, we look at the first of those.

Source: pixgood.com

Source: pixgood.com

Oakmoss or “Muschio di Quercia” was very first fragrance AbdesSalaam Attar ever made, and it’s still one of his most popular. In my interview with him, AbdesSalaam shared that it was originally an attar, not an eau de parfum with alcohol as it is now, and called it “Tarzan’s perfume,” a telling sign of his inspiration and vision for the scent. (I love the nickname, so that’s primarily what I’ll call the scent from this point forth.) On his website, AbdesSalaam elaborates on Tarzan’s style, its compositional structure, and the one modern ingredient which he used in order to create a bridge between modern and classical perfumery. I’ve taken the liberty to format his sentences into paragraphs for reasons of space, and they read in relevant part as follows:

Quercia or Oakmoss. Source: La Via del Profumo website.

Quercia or Oakmoss. Source: La Via del Profumo website.

Oak Moss is the ideal scent for interpersonal exchanges, either informal in your spare time or professional for your work. This perfume, actually, allows you to propose your personality in a sensual way but without being provoking

The delicately woody aroma of the sandalwood, and the almost human note of the Oak Moss, make it at the same time intriguing and reassuring – in one word charming. Although the composition of Oak Moss is a classical one (Vetyver, Sandalwood, Oak Moss), its perfume stands out for its refined sobriety and although it is a perfume for men (Tarzan) it is most loved by the women who like masculine fragrances, who will wear it for a specific goal: to impress the people around them, wearing an aura of woody notes that emanate the quiet strength and stability of the great trees. […] Put on the back of your hands, it will spread all around you in fragrant waves, thus reviving the technique of the ‘perfumed glove’ of the French court. Oak Moss can be easily customized by adding some drops of patchouli, vanilla, incense, tuberose, or of the preferred fragrance.

‘Oak Moss’ contains one of the new scents of the classical perfumery: the vetyver acetate, obtained from the chemical transformation of the natural vetyver. This is my only concession to the modern perfumery and makes ‘Oak Moss’ an ‘olfactory bridge’ between the perfumes of yesterday and the future ones, exclusively natural and holistic.

AbdesSalaam Attar generally doesn’t give a complete list of notes for his scents, only a nutshell synopsis but, based on what I smelled on my skin, I’d add a few things to the ingredients mentioned in the description, like patchouli and labdanum amber.

Source: fvcgeography.wordpress.com

Source: fvcgeography.wordpress.com

Tarzan opens on my skin with oakmoss, vetiver, patchouli, and a hint of labdanum’s golden warmth, all swirling together to create a deep, foresty earthiness. It feels like humus, the dark earth festooned with wet leaves, budding green sprouts, gnarled roots, springy moss, and mushroom-like sediment. Minty vetiver lies on top in an emerald layer, while a quiet, balsamic, resinous darkness stirs underneath.

Source: gdefon.com

Source: gdefon.com

For the first five minutes, it’s very similar to the opening of Oriza‘s Chypre Mousse, though there are differences. Tarzan is less herbal, earthy, barely fungal, and not at all strewn with violets or their leaves. It’s brighter, less otherworldly, and more traditional, with a balance that skews towards minty vetiver on my skin, instead of moss and mushrooms. In fact, the moss feels like an abstract and heavily refined note, a swirling suggestion instead of a solidly concrete, dense blanket. It’s also a fresher sort of greenness than the sort of mineralized, sometimes fusty or musty, grey lichen moss that you’d find in many vintage chypres.

Haitiian vetiver grass. Source: astierdemarest.com

Haitian vetiver grass. Source: astierdemarest.com

10 minutes into its development, Tarzan begins to shift on my skin. The vetiver grows stronger, emitting constant ripples of mint. That last part is due primarily to my skin chemistry which tends to amplify the note, as well as its minty side. I cannot stress this enough, my skin does odd things with vetiver, particularly the Haitian sort that AbdesSalaam loves to use in his oriental compositions. Whenever a fragrance has a substantial amount of vetiver, my skin amplifies it to the point of overshadowing much else and, to my dismay, almost always turns it into either fresh mint or smoky mint. I’m really not fond of the note as a core element in my fragrances which is the reason why I struggle with all vetiver soliflores, but it is an issue of my skin’s idiosyncratic chemistry and not something that others commonly experience. Please keep that in mind.

As the vetiver blooms, it intertwines with the mossy greenness to form Tarzan’s core essence, but other things are happening under that rich cloud. Occasional flickers of leathery, chocolate-like patchouli peek out, accompanied by fresh grass and what I’d swear was a touch of hay once in a while. A subtle, undefined spiciness weaves in and out, perhaps from the patchouli, while a growing haze of soft warmth appears to lie over the whole thing as if the vetiver were dappled by sunshine.

That last part is key because it distinguishes the vetiver in Tarzan from that in many other fragrances. This is not the crisp, mineralised note in scents like HermèsTerre d’Hermes, the smoky vetiver of Oriza‘s Vetiver Royal Bourbon, or the purely earthy vetiver of Olivier & Co.‘s Vetiverus. Yes, it’s woody vetiver, but it’s also simultaneously the grassy sort and a heavily refined, almost clarified vetiver that is surprisingly warm and sunny, too. At times, it’s even got a hint of sweetness as well. (If only my blasted skin didn’t make it minty above all else.)

As the first hour draws to a close, Tarzan is primarily (minty) woody vetiver with spicy patchouli in a warm green cocoon. It really doesn’t smell like oakmoss, per se, the humus-like vibe has vanished, and so has the resinous darkness in the base. The thing I really enjoy, though, is a mysterious leathery earthiness that smudges the vetiver’s edges. It first appeared as a tiny flicker about 20 minutes into Tarzan’s development, but becomes really noticeable at the 90-minute mark. It’s not like black truffles, porcini mushrooms, labdanum, patchouli, leatheriness, or sandalwood, but something ineffable that has small traces of all of them combined. Actually, it reminds me of an almost purified oud because there is a whisper of almost curried sweetness that snakes around under the wooded, earthy spiciness. It works so beautifully with the vetiver that I really wish there were more of it, but it is merely a hushed breath on my skin.

Source: freewallpaperfullhd.com

Source: freewallpaperfullhd.com

From afar, and for hours to come, Tarzan smells primarily of spicy, minty, woody vetiver with flickers of muted earthiness, abstract mossiness, and sunny warmth. It’s a much deeper scent than that description might lead you to believe because it feels as though layers of all sorts of greenness were placed one atop the other, conjoined by earthy and spicy fillings, to create one inseparable whole. It’s not my personal thing due to the vetiver and mint reasons I described above, but I think Tarzan would be very sexy on the right skin. It’s that mesmerizing whisper of sweet, spicy, almost “oud”-like wood and earthiness that would draw me back again and again to sniff this on someone’s neck.

Source: thegraniteexpo.com

Source: thegraniteexpo.com

Tarzan’s main contours never change substantially and it’s a very linear scent on my skin except for its smaller nuances. The earthiness retreats to the sidelines after 2.5 hours; the warmth and sweetness grow quite pronounced near the end of the 8th hour; and, in its final stage, a soft creaminess arrives to coat the vetiver. It must be from the sandalwood but, whatever the cause, the velvety creaminess of the vetiver is really pretty.

Tarzan fades away in much the same way, ending 12.5 hours from its start. It’s an astonishing amount of time for an all-natural fragrance, particularly on my wonky skin which rarely holds onto natural scents for long. Perhaps it’s due to the use of “vetyver acetate, obtained from the chemical transformation of the natural vetyver,” but whatever the reason, Tarzan has excellent longevity. The projection and sillage surprised me, too, particularly as most AbdesSalaam scents are inordinately discreet on my skin. Using 4 smears equal to 2 good sprays from an actual bottle, Tarzan opened with 3 inches of projection. It dropped to 2 inches after 20 minutes, then 1 inch after 2.5 hours, but what surprised me was that it remained there for the next 5 hours. Tarzan only turned into a true skin scent on me at the start of the 8th hour. Again, my skin amplifies vetiver, but that’s still an unusual amount of time, particularly for a natural fragrance.

Luca Turin via arabia.style.com

Luca Turin via arabia.style.com

Tarzan or Oakmoss has generally received very positive reviews. Luca Turin briefly talked about the scent back in 2005 in a piece quoted on the La Via del Profumo website. After trying a sampler of scents, Mr. Turin wrote that Oakmoss was one of his favorites:

My favourites are Arabia (Damascus rose-castoreum), Muschio di Quercia, a dry, uncompromising oakmoss, and Legno di Nave, a very nice woody fragrance. All are very skilful, none heavy, trite or overegged. Indeed, many feel surprisingly modern, showing that there may be more life left than I thought in the pre-chemistry tradition. [Emphasis to perfume name added by me.]

On Basenotes, almost everyone likes Oakmoss, too. There are 11 reviews, 9 of which are positive, while 2 are neutral, stemming largely from of the woodiness of the scent. “Darvant” has a detailed analysis about Tarzan’s layers (which include an “incensey” quality on his skin), says that it is one of his favorite vetivers, and concludes with a “buy it” recommendation:

"Cushion Moss on Wet Forest Floor" by DragonflyHunter on Flickr. (Website link embedded within.)

“Cushion Moss on Wet Forest Floor” by DragonflyHunter on Flickr. (Website link embedded within.)

Muschio di Quercia is another great favorite of mine among the AbdesSalaam Attar Profumo’s natural oily creations. A virile traditional fresh-aromatic mossy chypre. Muschio di Quercia is an exceptional vetiver/sandalwood accord (over an obscure dark-mossy base–real animal moss beyond the IFRA inhibitions) and probably one of my two-three favorite vetivers of the worldwide olfactory panorama. All is natural, incensey, realistic, marvellously boise (but extremely wearable and finally subtle). The note of vetiver is (especially along the first stage) really earthy, wild and mossy/incensey in a dark boise way conjuring me immediately the first Etro Vetiver’s formulation (also Etro Sandalo comes in mind at once). I feel in the air the aroma of deep dark forest, it seems to catch dry leaves, oakmoss, musk, tree trunks, barks, dry woodsy berries, woods, earth, hints of resins and misty dust overall combined in to a marvellously realistic olfactory concert of forests fruits. The perfume itself is well crafted for sure, extremely measured and balanced yet elegant and comforting. The aroma is never too much heavy or oppressing, the vetiver is woody for sure although I would not define Muschio di Quercia as a properly “fresh”-woody vetiver. Not so much to add to describe this marvellous composition. Buy it guys.

Others feel the same way, talking about how it’s a full “bottle worthy” fragrance that evokes the great outdoors warmed by sunshine, or is simply a very “satisfying” woody vetiver with high quality ingredients. “Alfarom” and “Flathorn” write respectively and in relevant part:

  • it is mainly a vetiver centered composition. After the initialy mossy-dark green opening, the fragrance evolves into a simple, old fashioned yet extremely satisfying fresh-woody vetiver base that would make the happiness of any vetiver freak out there. [¶] Well crafted with high quality natural ingredients. Totally endorsed.
  • This one is much warmer, woodier and grassier [… than real oakmoss]. And wonderful. As Quarry said it is a walk outside in sun-warmed earth, fields and woods. I love naturalistic fragrances, and this one, with it’s warm earth vibe, feels very easy-going and relaxing in the same way an actual walk might.
    Other reviews mentioned green, but it has little green ambiance to me. It’s more an early spring or autumn walk, more about the other notes of the outdoors. A warm grassy vetiver is the biggest player in this to me, but what brings this alive is the feeling of sunshine warming all the notes, making them mid-tone, even that darkest and densest of wood inhabitants, oak moss. It is a companionable fragrance made more attractive by the fact of it’s mostly natural ingredients. It’s a linear fragrance, but as is usually said, when you love the note it is, you welcome the fact it doesn’t change. Bottle worthy!
Source: crazy-frankenstein.com

Source: crazy-frankenstein.com

On Fragrantica, there is only one review for Oakmoss thus far (under its Italian name of Muschio di Quercia), and it’s a very positive one. “Colin Maillard” writes:

A deceptive name for a beautiful silent symphony built around vetiver. The opening is already centered on this great wood note, a superb, realistic, dense and honest rendition of all nuances of vetiver, from humid hay to its green, zesty, hearty sides. I’d say it’s the quintessence of wood, without boundaries, restrictions, artificial shapes and without synthetic tricks, just pure vetiver woody greatness – as usual with Dubrana, one of the most honest and sincere perfumers in nowadays’ perfumery when it comes to enhancing the voice of nature. I also detect a sharp cedar/oak note, and perhaps sandalwood too, which gives a sweet-syrupy woody note on the very base that perfectly blends with the sweet/wet side of vetiver. Despite being so natural and “free” to express all facets of wood, it’s a really elegant and noble cologne, with a superbly aromatic but discrete presence on skin. In its early stages, the drydown is still boldly woody, aromatic and rich, evocative and utterly refined in its compelling simplicity and naturality. The oak moss note is there, although quite light, to support and enhance the earthy-mossy and “rural” side of vetiver more than acting as a “separate” note itself. The very final drydown is a pleasant, silky, aromatic, super cozy and elegant earthy-woody accord with a hint of talcum and a subtle ambery warmth. Worth a try, a purchase and a gift!

8,5/10

I very much agree with all the commentators. Oakmoss is definitely worth a try if you are a hardcore vetiver lover. It’s easy to wear, versatile, unisex, long lasting, and has a very polished feel. It may not evoke an animalic, jungle “Tarzan” for me, or be a true oakmoss soliflore — something which isn’t really possible anyway in this day and age of IFRA/EU restrictions — but it’s an elegant, rather sexy woody vetiver with smoothness, subtle depths, and a rare sunshine-warmed character. Very nice.

Disclosure: My sample was provided courtesy of AbdesSalaam Attar. That did not impact this review. I do not do paid reviews, and my views are my own.

DETAILS:
Cost & Availability: Oakmoss/Tarzan is an eau de parfum that come in a variety of sizes, and is exclusive to the Profumo website which ships its scents world-wide. The following prices for Oakmoss are all in Euros without VAT tax: €54,55 for 15.5 ml; €105,13 for 32 ml (a little over 1 oz); and €156,70 for 50 ml/1.7 oz. The site says: “Prices are without VAT and are valid for USA and all non EEC countries[;] for shipments in the EEC 22% VAT will be ADDED to the amount in the shopping cart.” There is also a Mignon Discovery Coffret which is available for any 5 fragrances, each in a glass 5.5 ml bottle. The price depends on which perfumes you pick, as the choice is up to you. The 5.5 ml bottle of Oakmoss is €18,54. On a side note, shipping is always very fast. I generally receive my samples from AbdesSalaam roughly 4 or 5 days after he sends the package. Also, Profumo provides free 2 ml samples with all full-bottle purchases and I think with the Mignon set as well. In short, if you’re ordering fragrance, you may want to ask for a tiny sample of something that strikes your eye. Samples: Surrender to Chance sells samples of Oakmoss starting at $7.99 for a 1 ml vial.