Farmacia SS. Annunziata Patchouly Indonesiano

Posted on December 10, 2013 by Kafkaesque

Well, this will clear your nose! The most intense patchouli I have ever experienced is Farmacia SS. Annunziata dal 1561 Patchouly Indonesiano, which is also the longest named patchouli fragrance around. Patchouly Indonesiano is, quite literally, patchouli tripled: the best and highest quality leaves from Indonesia, from top to bottom, without a single thing to leaven them. It is quite… an experience.

Source: Fragrantica

Farmacia SS. Annunziata dal 1561 (or “Farmacia SS. Annunziata” as it is called for short) is an Italian niche house based in Florence whose history goes back to 1561, when a chemist called Brunetti worked with the Benedictine Nuns of San Nicolò to create all-natural beauty products and potions. As Roullier White explains, the ancient, original apothecary:

passed from the nuns to various owners until it was acquired by the Azzerlini family, who has now managed the brand for over three generations. However the apothecary which was recorded in existing documents in 1561 still survives, with white ceilings and dark wooden shelves decorated with apothecary jars from the 1800’s and although it preserves its old traditions, Farmacia SS Annunziata uses modern machinery and new materials to make its world renowned fragrances.

Source: Luckyscent.

Patchouly Indonesiano is a concentrated eau de parfum which, in my opinion, is more like extrait de parfum that feels like undiluted perfume oil which you’d find in a naturalist’s store. Farmacia SS. Annunziata describes it quite simply as an

[a]roma that never sets, a symbol of history. Intense and eternal aroma. It surrounds the wearer of a seductive atmosphere. A fragrance with an unmistakable character, an earthly beauty.

Top notes: PATCHOULY

Heart notes: PATCHOULY

Base notes: PATCHOULY

Indonesian patchouli. Photo: Aromahead on Flickr. (Website link embedded within.)

An Indonesian patchouli plantation. Photo: Aromahead on Flickr. (Website link embedded within.)

Patchouly Indonesiano explodes on my skin with a blast that did, indeed, clear my nose. If you have sinus trouble, you may want to consider this fragrance because it has a seriously potent opening. It is a strong blend of: dry dust, dark earth, medicine, camphor, smoke, sweetness, raw black leather, and musk. Mere seconds later, a rubbery note, bitter coffee, and dark chocolate join the party, along with hints of something vaguely sweaty. The whole thing makes my head spin a little. The combination is truly intense and with powerful projection, though the sillage seems to drop almost instantly to coat the skin like a perfume oil.

Source: deseretnews.com

It only takes a few minutes for the camphor that leads the charge to soften, and for Patchouly Indonesiano to shift a little. The nose-clearing menthol is joined by an oily smell that resembles castor oil, as well as by a strong element of paper. Patchouly Indonesiano’s primary bouquet is now of: paper, oil, menthol, dry dirt, black rubber, dust, and a hint of chocolate. It makes me think of an auto mechanic’s shop where a greasy pool of castor oil and the smell of rubber tires swirl with the scent from a nearby coffee-maker that is on a table with dusty old ledgers. The mechanic is wearing patchouli oil from a nearby health-food store, and eating a bar of dark chocolate. Outside, construction is going on, with a diesel-running machine uprooting mounds of dark earth, as dust particles fill the air.

Indonesian patchlouli fields. Source: boccecreative.com

I realise none of that sounds particularly good, but there is something oddly fascinating, even entrancing, about the panoply of aromas in Patchouly Indonesiano. It’s as the though the essence of nature with sweet, rich soil has mixed with the most intense manifestations of something industrial and mechanical. There is a sweet, spicy muskiness that is earthy and soothing underlying Patchouly Indonesiano, and that I like quite a bit.

Source: quora.com

It’s just the rest of the bouquet that I’m dubious about and struggle with. The menthol is seriously medicinal, as if our car mechanic slathered himself in Vicks Vapor muscle rub, but it is the distinctly rubbery rawness of the patchouli that is the hardest to take. This is not the more burnished, soft, richness of leather that can sometimes underlie the note. This is sharp, raw, black rubber with a hint of diesel fuel. The notes feel distilled down to their concentrated essence, then mixed with castor oil, and rubbed right into my nostrils. It actually made my eyes go a little cross-eyed at one point.

Patchouly Indonesiano is largely a linear scent where the notes vary only in degree and prominence. Fifteen minutes in, the dustiness, tobacco, and that fleeting drop of sweatiness vanish, while the smoke, paper, menthol, rubber, oil, and dirt elements go stronger. At the end of the first hour, the fragrance is primarily camphor and castor oil, followed by subtle nuances of black rubber and smoky woods. There are muffled, muted whispers of sweetness and spiciness, but they can’t counteract the rougher elements.

Source: 123rf.com

Things improve, however, about 2.5 hours in, when Patchouly Indonesiano becomes much more focused around the traditional aromas of the note. The scent is now a warm, brown, spicy, sweet patchouli scent with very little of the dusty, rubbery or diesel elements. There is still a hint of something mentholated lurking about, but Patchouly Indonesiano is much better balanced and mellower. The fragrance turns into a skin scent at the end of the second hour, and remains largely unchanged until its very end. By the end of the 6th hour, it is a mere blur of sweet woodiness, and then it fades away entirely about an hour later.

The reviews for Patchouly Indonesiano on various sites largely center around the fragrance’s dirtiness and its price (which is $160 for 100 ml). On Luckyscent, a number of people find the perfume to smell like simple patchouli essential oils that you can purchase from places like Whole Foods for $16. Others find it to be the truest and most refined patchouli scent around:

This is what I’ve been looking for, for years even. A gorgeous patchouli that has all the rich, earthiness and dry, woodiness without that nasty, unwashed hippie thing going on. This is an elegant, refined and very true patchouli that smells wonderful on its own, and layers very well with musks and ambers to create really sexy scent combinations. Outstanding!

I have tried many of the other Patchoulis (Patchouli Patch, Patchouli Leaves, LeLabo’s 24) but this is by far the loveliest and most refined. […]

This is the dirtiest patchouly I’ve ever smelled (and that’s a good thing). I really enjoyed sampling this scent, it is the rawest patch I’ve come across. This one is about as earthy/dirty as you can get, it’s pure patchouly oily and nothing else. Everytime I closed my eyes and smelled I pictured myself surrounded in a warm grassy dirt patch. This oil has a slightly above average longevity rating from me lasting just about all day and projects a strong 4-5 hours. Really good scent but it smells pretty close to your run of the mill patchouly oil you can find at any herbal store. I do find this to be a bit stronger and a slightly more unique than your typical patch oil but I can’t see paying the extra money for something you can find for around $20.

The focus on Fragrantica is more about the scent itself, with all its dusty complexity:

Patchouli + cobwebs. Very earthy, dry, dusty, and almost moldy. [¶] This is how an antique rocking horse that’s been sitting in an attic for several years would smell. [¶] All that being said, I like it. It’s full of character and smells like historical objects.

I love patchouli, and I guess I expected this to blow me away, but maybe I am learning that I like my patchoulis best when blended with other notes. It started out bracing, camphorous, and dirty, and within an hour it was a velvety smooth, warm, and woody skin scent, but Patchouly Indonesiano had very poor staying power on my skin and was barely detectable after that first hour. Four hours later there was no trace of it on my wrist. I like it for being a high-quality single note fragrance, but I would have to reapply it constantly to be able to fully enjoy it.

Dust and patchouly. And a little more earthy dust. In my imagination this is the type of dust that could be found settling on a crypt or kicked underneath the heels during a dry desert walk.

Dusty, dirt road in Laos. Photo: Daniel McBane. http://www.danielmcbane.com/laos/dusty-road-central-motorbike-loop/

The most interesting comment for me comes from someone who has purchased two bottles of Patchouly Indonesiano, and is still ambivalent about it!

I have been through two bottles of this, and I have a ambivalent relationship with it. Most of the time I love it for it’s true, up-front patchouli note – it’s everything that patchouli is supposed to be. This would be: camphoraceous, dusty, earthy, dry, linear and even wine-like at at times.

However, sometimes I think that I’d get the same results by adding a good amount of aged patchouli absolute, iso e super, a touch of cedar and a synthetic musk (all easily obtainable) to some perfumer’s alcohol. This would probably result in a similar scent for a good deal less $$. There really isn’t much more to this other than patchouli and some bolstering modifiers.

It just depends on the day. Nonetheless, if you love patchouli, this will be absolute heaven for you – nobody will mistake what you’re wearing.

I adore patchouli, but I share the feelings of a number of those quoted up above. I’m starting to realise that I need some modifiers and softening agents to go with my patchouli. This sort of untamed, concentrated, and very raw form isn’t really my cup of tea. Patchouli Indonesiano is, as one commentator on Basenotes put it, “a balls-out, take no prisoners” patchouli. It would be lovely once in a blue moon, but not for $160, especially if there are similar scents which one can purchase as pure essential oils from a health food store for $16. Even if the fragrance were cheaper, the hard-core, balls to the wall (to paraphrase that Basenotes’ description) extremeness of the opening blast makes the scent too much like a novelty fragrance for me personally, while the poor sillage and minimal longevity on my wonky, unobliging skin would be frustrating.

I’ve been trying to imagine what would happen if a bottle of Patchouly Indonesiano fell into my lap, and the simple truth of the matter is that I doubt I would reach for it very often. Perhaps it might work as a layering scent, though I don’t really do that. It might be interesting as a bath oil (since the perfume really feels more like an oil), but that’s rather heretical and ridiculous for something that costs $160. I wouldn’t want my sheets to smell of castor oil and black rubber, so that would be out, too. I would probably do what some chap did on Luckyscent: give the bottle to someone who is a hardcore patchouli nut, and whose skin chemistry works wonders with the thornier elements in question. I have no idea who that imaginary person might be, but it’s definitely not me.

DETAILS:

Cost & Availability: Farmacia SS. Annunziata Patchouly Indonesiano is a concentrated eau de parfum that is available only in a 100 ml/3.4 oz bottle which costs $160. The European price seem to range from €110 to €129, but I can’t figure out the set retail cost. Farmacia SS. Annunziata does not seem to have an e-store, and it doesn’t provide any pricing information. Discount Price: I found Patchouly Indonesiano offered by an Italian eBuy boutique called Store Perfumery for $148 with free worldwide shipping. The exact link (which will obviously be inapplicable if the perfume sells out) is here. In the U.S.: Patchouli Indonesiano is available for $160 from Luckyscent, along with a sample. Outside the U.S.: The entire Farmacia SS. Annunziata line of fragrances, body products and samples is available from Italy’s AllaVioletta. You can also find Patchouly Indonesiano at Profumeria Manuela for €110. Germany’s First in Fragrance sells the perfume for €121, while the Netherlands’ ParfuMaria sells it for €129. In Switzerland, Beauty Flash sells the fragrance for CHF 175. In the UK, some of the Farmacia SS Annunziata line is carried by Roullier White, but Patchouly Indonesiano is not listed on the website. Rich Perfumes in Buckinghamshire also carries the line, and you may have to call to see if they have the Patchouly. Samples: I obtained my sample from eBay, but you can also buy one from Luckyscent. Surrender to Chance does not carry Patchouly Indonesiano, and neither does The Perfumed Court.

Les Néréides Patchouli Antique (Patchouli Précieux)

Posted on December 9, 2013 by Kafkaesque

Source: worldofstock.com

A keepsake memento box made of cedar, left in a dusty old attic, only to be found and doused with rum and cognac, then to transform as if by alchemy to something quite different. That is part of the journey you take with Patchouli Antique from Les Néréides, a French perfume house that initially started in the world of expensive, high-end costume jewelry before branching out into perfume. Their fragrances represent their overall ethos of the most basic, simple ingredients, presented in the most refined manner. They eschew expensive or fancy bottling, preferring to opt for a minimalistic aesthetic, both to appearance and, to some degree, the perfume itself.

Patchouli Antique or, Patchouli Précieux, as it is now known.

Patchouli Antique (or Patchouli Précieux as it has now been renamed) embodies that aesthetic for much of its journey, though its opening is wonderfully complex and nuanced. The fragrance is an eau de toilette that is classified as an “Oriental Woody” on Fragrantica, and its notes are not complicated according to most sites. Luckyscent says that they are nothing more than:

Indonesian patchouli, Vanilla, and musk.

However, one French retailer provides something very different. Olivolga describes Patchouli Antique as follows:

Patchouli Antique becomes Patchouli Précieux, the perfume is the same.

The story of Patchouli Précieux: The soothing scent of rich, clean earth freshened by rain. This is the loamy soil of an enchanted hillside at dusk as you lay in the grass and watch the clouds. The opening is very intense, but give it a moment and the trademark gentle touch of Les Nereides becomes apparent. The patchouli retains its earthiness, but becomes soft and deep, melding with layers of pillowy vanilla and smooth musk to create a dreamy landscape … Bewitching!

Base: patchouli, cedar wood, sandalwood, vanilla, musk
Head: sweet orange, green note
Middle: Gurjum balm, scots pine

Source: footage.shutterstock.com

Patchouli Antique opens on my skin with a rich cocktail of notes. It is a blend of sweet, chewy, dusty, slightly medicinal, red-brown patchouli with booziness, followed by tobacco and a subtle whisper of leather. It is patchouli in all its true splendour with a spicy, sweet, smoky character that also has subtle touches of green, woody dryness, and dark resinous amber. The amorphous “boozy” note soon turns into something delineated and distinct, as both a fruited rum and a very aged, nutty cognac. Yet, the whole top bouquet is paradoxically filled with antique dust and old woods. Patchouli Antique smells much like an old cedar memory chest stuck in a dusty attic for years, then doused by a pirate’s stash of booze.

Source: cigarettezoom.com

Patchouli Antique is initially very strong, but it quickly softens to become a beautiful blend of dark notes that envelops you in a small cloud. The rum smells as though it was seeped in juicy, Seville oranges. Though the fruity note is quickly subsumed by the patchouli, dusty, and smoky woods, it pops up occasionally to counter the dryness of the perfume’s base. The tobacco is simply lovely, and may be one of my favorite parts of Patchouli Antique’s opening. It smells just like the rich, fragrant, very fruited pipe tobacco that my uncle used. There is also a subtle leatheriness underlying the scent, but it’s burnished, aged, and completely doused by cognac. The overall blend is faintly similar to Oriza L. Legrand‘s Horizon patchouli, but Les Nereides’ version is much richer and more complex.

Source: thejewelerblog.wordpress.com

Ten minutes in, Patchouli Antique is like a dark topaz stone made from boozy patchouli and dry, dusty cedar, throwing off rich nuances of leather and sweet pipe tobacco like little, brown rays. There is the faintest hint of creamy vanilla lurking deep down below, but it is subtle at this point. The whole thing lies nestled in a smoky, resinous, slightly green cocoon that was initially quite muted, but which suddenly rises to the surface. It takes exactly 13 minutes for the patchouli’s green side to emerge. It’s metholated and slightly medicinal, but it’s much more minty as a whole. Patchouli is a plant in the mint family, and there are definite reflections of that side in the perfume, though they are quite soft at first.

Source: 1stdibs.com

Much more noticeable, however, is the woody dustiness that becomes stronger, and a quiet creaminess in texture. Patchouli Antique increasingly smells like the creamiest of very ancient apothecary cabinets, made out of cedar, covered by a light film of ancient dust, then heavily infused with dark, chewy, spicy patchouli. I think the creaminess is due solely to the vanilla which isn’t distinct in its own right at this point, but which works indirectly in the base to create that textural feel and smoothness. It rounds out any rough edges, making sure that Patchouli Antique is not too green or woody.

Abstract Mint Green and Chocolate Brown art on canvas by Heatherdaypaintings on Etsy. (Website link embedded within photo.)

To my regret, the creaminess also serves to diffuse the boozy rum and cognac accord, weakening it and making it fade away almost completely by the 20-minute mark. Taking its place is a creamy mint tonality that soon dominates both the patchouli and the scent as a whole. It is as though Patchouli Antique has entered into a completely new phase where the primary bouquet is creamy mint patchouli, followed by dusty cedar and the merest hint of something leathery. The fragrance has the feel of heavy creamy, though not in any fresh, sour, or particularly sweetened way. The dry, woody, and minty elements cut through the vanilla, to help ensure that the primary focus is on the greener side of the patchouli. I have to say, I really miss the lovely fruited tobacco and run-cognac, and I’m not crazy about feeling like a creamy mint ice-cream infused with patchouli chips.

Source: 123rf.com

The second stage is short-lived, a quick transitional bridge to Patchouli Antique’s main phase which begins at the end of the first hour. The vanilla blooms in its own right, overtaking the mentholated mint element, and turning Patchouli Antique into a creamy patchouli-vanilla scent with a very dusty, woody undertone. The mint remains, as does the dry cedar, but both move increasingly to the sidelines. The patchouli has lost much of its chewy, spicy, smoky darkness, feeling washed, and somewhat cleaned by creamy vanillic softness. The whole thing hovers an inch above the skin, and feels very airy.

At the 90-minute mark, Patchouli Antique on my skin is 4 parts vanilla, 3 parts patchouli, 2 parts mint, and 1 part dusty, dry, amorphous woods. Occasionally, the patchouli will dominate the vanilla, but, generally, it feels much more enveloped by the creamy note. To be clear, however, the fragrance is never gourmand at all. Patchouli Antique lacks the sweetness for that, but the patchouli remains very muffled for much of the time. I would have far preferred more of the rich, spicy, smokiness of patchouli in a redder, brown fragrance than such a creamily beige one dominated by soft vanilla. That said, Patchouli Antique is a refined scent where all of the edges have been smoothed out.

However, I think it may have gone too much in the direction of cleaning the patchouli of its dark earthiness, funk, and spicy leatheriness. How people can compare Patchouli Antique to a monster of medicinal funk, smoky vetiver woodiness, and intense darkness like Reminiscence‘sPatchouli or Elixir Patchouli is completely beyond me. I see very little in common between the three scents, except the boozy element that both Reminiscence fragrances begin with if a lot is applied. On my skin, the greenness in the Nereides fragrance is primarily mint, whereas it was heavily camphorous and mentholated with the Reminiscence duo, in addition to being infused by an intense, smoked vetiver.

The overall lack of smokiness in Patchouli Antique also removes it from the realm of Chanel‘s spectacular Coromandel which is one of my favorite perfumes primarily because of its gorgeous patchouli drydown. In Coromandel, the patchouli turns into something like a creamy Chai tea dusted with white chocolate and infused with frankincense, but it always smells like sweet, spicy patchouli. The patchouli in Les Nereides’ version is much blander, creamier, cleaner, and softer, without the incense or spicy sweetness. There are minuscule flickers of both deep down, but they are heavily muffled.

Source: stonecontact.com

In fact, Patchouli Antique seems increasingly like a vanilla fragrance with just dashes of patchouli tossed in. At the start of the third hour, Patchouli Antique is a creamy, woody vanilla with patchouli, followed by a touch of synthetic white musk in the base. It is also now a skin scent, though it is still noticeable up close. It soon devolves further, turning slightly powdery, until it is a mere gauzy smear of woody vanilla, followed by patchouli and white musk. It feels like a wispy, drier, simpler, less sweetened cousin to something like Serge Lutens‘ Un Bois Vanillé. I like the latter quite a bit, but it is not what I’m looking for in a fragrance that is supposed to center around patchouli.

Patchouli Antique has very good longevity on my perfume-consuming skin for a fragrance that is an eau de toilette, but it is hardly as spectacular as others seem to report. Around 7.5 hours into its development, the fragrance is almost gone. It dies away entirely an hour later, 8.5 hours from the start, as a blur of dusty, woody sweetness. The sillage was initially strong with a large application, but soft with a smaller one. The average, overall projection as a whole for the fragrance’s lifespan was soft.

Suzanne on Bois de Jasmin has a detailed assessment of Patchouli Antique which I agree with in small part, though I think she experienced far more of the lovely opening phase of the fragrance than I did. Her review reads, in part, as follows:

Les Néréides Patchouli Antique is one of a number of patchouli-centric fragrances in niche perfume lines that strips away the past and presents patchouli as something eminently more palatable for modern tastes. […]

Although the lasting power is superb and the strength impressive, Patchouli Antique is a mellow liquid using vanilla not as a sweetening agent but as a smoothing one. Vanilla takes the edge off the green, aromatic and slightly minty quality that the note possesses in isolation. The “antique” of the name conjures up ideas of aging and one is hard-pressed to escape a noticeable mustiness that creeps into the fragrance after a fruity and golden opening.

Patchouli Antique is not enslaved to the herbal origin of the note. After the fruitiness of the opening comes a lovely, semi-damp earthiness similar to what one finds in L’Artisan Voleur de Roses and then the notes of wood, paper, leather, and perhaps a vapor of alcohol. […]

Vanilla comes into play in the drydown, rubbing out the earlier earthy and liqueur-like qualities but not in a degree that makes the fragrance gourmand. It does tend to desensitize the patchouli a bit[.][…]

Depending on the method of application (spraying or dabbing) it can become almost a skin scent when applied in moderation, or it can announce itself as patchouli and it will elicit remark when used that way.

I envy Suzanne for an experience that seems much boozier and for far longer than my own. On my skin, I had a liqueur and earthy patchouli phase that may have lasted 20 minutes at most, followed then by heavy mint ice-cream patchouli, woody vanilla-patchouli, and finally, just plain woody, powdery vanilla.

On Fragrantica, the reviews are mixed, as some people find the scent too musty, minty, or mentholated. As noted earlier, 10 people voted that Patchouli Antique was extremely similar to Reminiscence’s Elixir that I reviewed yesterday, but I can’t see any overlap at all. In the Fragrantica comments, others bring up Parfumerie Generale‘s Coze, a scent I haven’t tried, as well as other patchouli mainstays. A few examples of the range of opinions:

I detect no patchouli at all in this, at least not as I understand it. [¶] It goes on minty, medicinal and slightly weird-smelling and reminds me of semi-fresh breath that someone’s been trying to conceal by chewing gum. Camphorous. [¶] There’s also something reminiscent of pu-erh tea emerging after a while. [¶] None of these notes are anything I associate with a personal fragrance applied for the pleasure of oneself or those around you. Terrible.

This is a thick, chewy patchouli, reminiscent of Coze in my opinion. Where Coze is heavy on the tobacco, this is heavy on the chocolate note (though none is officially listed) this is a great winter scent and if you like Coromandel, Borneo 1834 and Coze, this is most definitely a must have.

It’s an interesting scent – I think that’s the kindest thing I can say about it. […] It makes me think of dusty attics and cobwebs and stale cigarette smoke. I imagine being a child and finding clothes from 80 years ago that still have the faint scent of perfume on them – that’s the smell that I get. It’s evocative in a way but if I want to smell like this and I could live in a damp house with a bunch of smokers, wear Opium to bed and get up without showering and go out. Not my thing really.

This is not simply a patchouli fragrance, this is patchoulissimo. No frils, pleasantly unrefined, simple and extremely earthy patch with powdery/ambery undertones. Honest, unpretentious yet attention worthy for any patch lover…I stick with more complex interpretations of the main theme, but if you’re up for a classic no surprise patchouli, check this out, this is quality stuff.

As many of the reviews on Luckyscent mention, this really does have a musty opening note. In fact, on me, it is bordering on downright mildewy! But strangely, it’s mildewy in an endearing, nostalgic way…reminding me of memories made while playing with my cousins in the attic of their summer cabin. [¶] Eventually, after not too long, the mustiness fades and I am left with a soft, powdery, sweet patchouly.

I must say it`s horrific. Very strong tobacco and medicinal patchouli. So very much not up my alley.

The kind of purple, fruited patchouli to avoid if you want real patchouli. Source: Shutterstock.com

What purple, fruited patchouli feels like, and what to avoid if you want real patchouli. Source: Shutterstock.com

You have to be a lover of true patchouli scents to appreciate Patchouli Antique. Given the note’s notoriety since the 1970s with all the negative associations to hippies and “head shops,” true patchouli with all its spicy, sweet, smoky, earthy funk isn’t common in modern perfumery. What is listed as “patchouli” is the terrible purple fruit-chouli kind with its overwhelmingly syrupy, jammy, fruited, berried molasses that accompanies roses scents or which is used as the base in fake, neo-quasi “chypres” now that oakmoss has essentially become a thing of the past. People used to the patchouli in commercial, mainstream scents like Chanel‘s Coco Noir or Marc Jacob‘s Lola (to give just two of a plethora of examples) will undoubtedly respond to Patchouli Antique with some of the reactions noted above.

That said, Patchouli Antique does have a mustiness and dustiness that isn’t typical of even dark, true patchouli fragrances. Tobacco and leather are more characteristic undertones, but, as some of the comments above demonstrate, skin chemistry may play a role in determining how they manifest themselves on your skin. If your chemistry always turns tobacco into an ashtray, or if you hate tobacco fragrances as a whole, then patchouli may be a problematic note for you in general. If, however, you love fragrances like Coromandel, Borneo 1834, or Guerlain‘s L’Instant de Guerlain Pour Homme Extreme (LIDGE), chances are that you already like the real kind of patchouli.

Whether you will like Patchouli Antique, on the other hand, will very much depend on how much vanilla you want in your patchouli fragrance. For me, the patchouli is far too stripped down and denuded, the vanilla dominates too much of the fragrance’s overall lifespan, and I’m not crazy about the mint phase. In short, I’ll stick to the gorgeous, smoky Coromandel if I want a patchouli-vanilla fix. However, if you don’t mind a scent that is predominantly dry woody vanilla, and if you don’t mind a powdery touch, then you should give Patchouli Antique a sniff. It has a lovely, boozy opening (brief though it is), the drydown is very soft, and it is very affordable at $70 for a large 100 ml bottle. I know someone who enjoys powdery scents and loves patchouli; she uses Patchouli Antique every night as a comforting, soothing bed-time scent. You might feel the same way.

DETAILS:

Cost & Availability: Patchouli Antique or Patchouli Precieux (the new name) is an eau de toilette that is most commonly sold in a 100 ml/ 3.4 oz bottle and which costs $70, or €65. A few places offer the 30 ml bottle which costs €35 (or €29 on sale). There is also a body lotion. Generally, you will find the perfume under the old name being sold at a discount, or that sites carrying it are sold out, as they make way for the new bottle. In the U.S.: Luckyscent carries Patchouli Antique in the old 100 ml bottle for $70, but they are currently sold out. They also sell a 0.7 ml sample for $3. Outside the U.S.: You can buy Patchouli Antique directly from Les Néréides where it is sold under the new name, “Patchouli Precieux,” and is available in both sizes. The 100 ml bottle costs €65, while the 30 ml bottle costs €35. I found the perfume discounted on a few sites under the old name: the Netherlands’ DePluymGraaff sells the 100 ml bottle for €49, while Italy’s Scent Bar sells the 100 ml for €55 and the 30 ml for €29. In the UK, Les Nereides had a shop in London in Kings Road, but I read that it has closed. The brand’s jewellery is carried by the House of Fraser, but not its scents so far as I can tell by the website. I found Patchouli Antique at Ursula and Odette, but the site has no e-store. You can perhaps call to purchase. Elsewhere in Europe, France’s Olivolga sells Patchouli Antique in the 100 ml bottle for €65, as does Linea Chic. Germany’s First in France has Patchouli Antique on sale for €49, perhaps because it is the old bottle with the old name, but they are sold out. They offer samples of the scent for €4. Les Nereides shops: Les Nereides has stores in Paris, while its line is also carried at Paris’ Les Galleries Lafayettes and Printemps. There are also Les Nereides boutiques in Sydney, Odessa, Hong Kong, China, and Japan. You can look up their locations at Les Nereides Store Locator. Samples: I obtained my sample from eBay, but Patchouli Antique is also available at Surrender to Chance starting at 2.99 for a 1 ml vial. Many of the sites listed above offer vials for sale.

Reminiscence Patchouli & Elixir de Patchouli

Posted on December 7, 2013 by Kafkaesque

I thought I’d begin my patchouli series at the beginning with the referential benchmark perfume which started it all. It was 1970 when Reminiscence Paris released Patchouli, the fragrance which would be forever tied to their name in many people’s minds. A true, dirty, woody patchouli, Reminiscence’s eau de toilette was very much a product of its times, and embodies all that the negative associations with the note: the “Summer of Love,” dirty hippies, and a “head-shop” earthiness. Yet, Reminiscence’s Patchouli remains a cult hit and, for many, the standard by which all other scents in the genre are measured. For a few of my friends, the perfume is known merely as “Reminiscence,” as if there were nothing else. I myself call it the same thing. So, to avoid endless redundancy in talking about both the note and the perfume name, I’ll simply refer to the scent from now on as “Reminiscence.”

Source: inthe-r.com

In 2007, the company issued a flanker called Elixir de Patchouli. Though there have been a few Reminiscence spin-offs of the 1970 original, the Elixir is an eau de parfum that is intended to be a deeper, richer version of Patchouli, a daughter more than a cousin. The two fragrances seem largely alike on the surface, especially when you spray on a lot. They both open as extremely boozy, cognac-like patchoulis, but they diverge later on to some extent. However, if you apply a minimal quantity, the differences between the Reminiscence and the Elixir are much more noticeable. I thought I would analyse each one in turn.

PATCHOULI:

Source: Miriam London

Patchouli is an eau de toilette which Reminiscence describes as an “Oriental Woody” with the following olfactory pyramid:

Top and Heart Notes :

Woody (Essential Oil Virginia Cedar, Essential Oil Javanese Patchouli, Essential Oil Haitian Vetiver, Essential Oil Australian Sandalwood)

Base Notes :

Ambery (Spanish Labdanum Absolute)

Sweet (Madagascan Vanilla Absolute, Tonka Bean Absolute),

Balsamic (Tolu Balm Resinoid),

Musky (White Musk)

If you apply a lot of Reminiscence, its opening is all boozy cognac followed by hints of dark chocolate. Four big smears creates a potent, forceful, truly intense cloud of dark patchouli where the aged cognac essentially trumps all for a good portion of the opening 15-minutes. However, I think the perfume’s true characteristics and nuances are most evident with a lesser, perhaps more normal dosage, so my breakdown will talk about what the fragrance is like with 2 big smears which would be the equivalent of 2 small sprays. Given the famed potency of Reminiscence in its opening stage, I’m not sure anyone would ever apply more than 2 small sprays anyway.

Reminiscence opens on my skin as a powerful force-field of chewy, earthy, leathery sweetness infused with smoky cedar. The immediate impression is of dark patchouli that is sweet, spicy, and musky, with hints of dry woods, and smoke. More significant, perhaps, is a note that can only be described as a wet, mushy, salty touch, almost like ambergris. To my surprise, Reminiscence is surprisingly sheer for such a massively strong perfume, and feels as though it has no weight at all.

Red clay river bank. Source: panoramio.com

There is a definite greenness underlying the dark brown, red, black notes. The perfume makes me imagine a wet, terracotta-brown, sloping, river bank of musky earth at the base of a big cedar tree. Out of the mushy soil sprout dark green leaves that smell a little medicinal. Yet, there is also sweetness in the air. From afar, the patchouli smells like smoky, bitter-sweet chocolate toffee with spices, leather, a whisper of nuttiness, and a whole lot of funk. Up close, however, the patchouli is primarily woody and dry in nature. There are also clearly synthetics in the base, something that eventually gives me a little bit of a headache. I suspect it’s my nemesis, the white musk.

Ten minutes in, Reminiscence starts to slowly shift. The chocolate rises to the surface. It’s dark but semi-sweet, with an almost expresso-like undertone. The vetiver soon explodes in full force, smelling as smoked as the cedar that it joins, and the two together cut through Reminiscence’s sweetness. They add a definite dry, forest feel to the visuals of wet, red earth. As the smoked vetiver and dry cedar bloom, so do the dark, green patchouli leaves, turning very medinal and camphorated. I don’t have my sample of Serge Lutens‘ Borneo 1834 to compare to Reminiscence side by side, but there are definite similarities in the mentholated notes. However, the Reminiscence seems more heavily dominated by the smoked vetiver and cedar than the Lutens. It is stronger in smell, but sheerer in feel, and it also seems dirtier.

Source: thecandyfan.com

The Reminiscence smells a lot like chilled peppermint and bitter chocolate with heavy amounts of smoky vetiver and cedar. In some ways, it reminds me of the American sweet, a York Peppermint Pattie, only much drier and woodier. I find myself oddly apathetic to it all, perhaps because I wish there were more sweetness, and much more weight. It doesn’t feel molten, thick and opaque, no matter how strong it may be up close.

The projection isn’t enormous either, though you may get fooled by the strength of the perfume’s notes up close. (With 4 enormous smears, however, the projection is nuclear, and the fragrance can be smelled across the room.) Yet, for all that the sillage is average with a low dose, the Reminiscence still sends little tendrils into the air around you, weaving a dark spell that is a mix of sweetness, earthiness and dry, smoked woods.

Source: pixabay.com

After 20 minutes, Reminiscence begins to transition. The medicinal, mentholated aspect to the funk becomes stronger, and the perfume definitely seems like something suited to the ’70s or to the hippies at Woodstock. I like parts of it, and others I don’t. The synthetic clang in the base gives me a headache, and the notes are too intensely mentholated for my tastes. I smell like a bitter, dark chocolate version of a York Peppermint Patty, mixed with an athlete’s muscle rub, and a hefty dose of smoked, dark vetiver. The cedar pops in and out, lending even more woody dryness whenever it appears.

I think people who are used to a much sweeter, more modern patchouli fragrance where the note is infused with vanilla from the start may get a little bit of a shock to their system at the medicinal funk and vetiver woodiness of the Reminiscence. This is definitely patchouli, yes, but it is a significantly darker, more bitter, medicinal camphorated version than many of its descendants from other brands.

Source: pl.123rf.com

It isn’t until the start of the second hour that Reminiscence pipes down a little. The vanilla suddenly appears, and it changes the scent quite dramatically. The perfume is increasingly a soft, balmy, mellow patchouli atop a light vanilla base infused by cedar and vetiver. The bitter dark chocolate has turned to milk chocolate, and the medicinal aspects are diffused, returning to a pleasant peppermint note. The sillage drops, the notes blend into each other, the perfume is sweeter, and the whole thing feels even gauzier. Around 90-minutes in, Reminiscence is a sheer, spicy, creamy patchouli infused with sweetness, smoky woods and vanilla.

At the end of the third hour, Reminiscence is a total skin scent, and a mere blur of ambered sweetness that just barely smells of patchouli. I have the impression that the fragrance has vanished in areas, and I’m profoundly dubious that it’s actually going to last. To my surprise, however, Reminiscence hangs on, though it turns increasingly vanilla-oriented in focus. About 5.5 hours in, it’s almost all vanilla with just the faintest hint of patchouli and cocoa powder. It finally dies completely around 7.5 hours from the first spray, leaving as a mere vanilla blur.

At double the dosage, Reminiscence has differences in notes, sillage and longevity. The sillage still drops at the end of the first hour, but it takes two hours in total before the fragrance begins to soften and mellow out. The Reminiscence still becomes a skin scent at the end of the third hour, but the total duration is considerably extended to roughly 11.75 hours in length.

The major differences in smell are most noticeable in the opening blast which is suddenly boozy, like aged Armagnac brandy or cognac, in a way that was completely absent at the lower, normal amount. The other differences are primarily of degree. The Reminiscence becomes even more overtly medicinal and dirty with the larger dose, and the fragrance remains that way for a longer period of time. It takes almost 3 hours from the start for the mentholated, earthy, medicinal funk to mellow out, and for the vanilla to soften the patchouli. Oddly, the fragrance takes on a more ambered labdanum undertone at the double dose, and around the middle of the third hour. It’s less vanilla-centered quite so soon, more golden and soft. Eventually, though, Reminiscence eventually ends up the exact same way, as vanilla with patchouli and cocoa powder, then just vanilla in its final moments.

Source: urlm.co

As regular readers know, I’ve been on a hunt for a replica of my holy grail patchouli scent that I wore when I was 14-years old, and which I thought was from the French jewellery house, Ylang-Ylang. It as a glorious dark patchouli with Mysore sandalwood, vanilla, and a light floral touch. Lately, I’ve been wondering if my memory was off, and my holy grail scent was really from Reminiscence. After all, both are jewellery houses started in the South of France, with a similar aesthetic and look. Was I merely confusing the two? I can visualize the store in Monte-Carlo down to a T, but had I gotten the name wrong all this time? I don’t think so, but, when I asked a childhood friend from Monte-Carlo about Ylang-Ylang and a patchouli scent, she said, “It has to be Reminiscence.”

So, when I was in Paris, I took her to the store to see if Reminiscence was the same scent I remember. We sprayed it on our wrists, and I was sniffing mine when she started to shake her head. “This can’t be right,” she said. “It didn’t smell like this. I can’t forget the smell, since half the girls in my high school wore Reminiscence. And this isn’t it!” I asked the sales assistant if the fragrance had been changed, only to receive vehement denials. I don’t believe her. My original favorite had a heavy sandalwood aroma, and while I’m still convinced my holy grail came from “Ylang-Ylang” not Reminiscence, their fragrance also had Mysore sandalwood. Now, however, the perfume lists “Australian sandalwood” as one of its notes. I could not detect sandalwood in any way in the modern Reminiscence Patchouli that I tested, perhaps because the Australian version is utter crap, bland as hell, and isn’t real sandalwood. (Sorry, I know I sound like the biggest snob alive when it comes to this issue, but the two things truly are not alike!)

My memory aside, my friend is convinced that Reminiscence has changed from the fragrance she knew so well — and she’s not the only one. On Surrender to Chance, someone wrote the following comment:

I wore this yummy fragrance over 20 years ago and am assuming they changed the formula….it does not smell like it used to and my family agrees:( so bummed out[.]

Reminiscence Patchouli is perfectly fine, but I found myself strangely apathetic about it. I don’t know why because, in some ways, it’s really quite nice at a higher dosage: the sharpness of the synthetic musk in the base is hidden; the boozy cognac at the top is pretty, as is the amber that shows up later, and the longevity is much improved.

I think the perfume is simply too mentholated at one stage for my personal tastes, too bitter, and with too much smoky vetiver. I need a counterbalance to all that dry woodiness, and much more sweetness to dilute the medicinal tone. Later, when the sweetness does arrive, and the camphor retreats, the fragrance is simply too wispy in feel. I hate how it goes from one extreme (potency), to the other (wispy, sheer skin scent) as quickly as it does, and I don’t approve of the fragrance’s lightweight feel in general.

Sometimes, the original benchmark classic cannot be improved upon, as vintage Opium demonstrates full well. Occasionally, however, modern successors take the blueprint set by the pioneers, and make it much better. I think Reminiscence’s Patchouli falls into the latter category. I’m know it was innovative for its time, and I feel it was probably better before it was reformulated, but the current version is far from perfect, and I think there are better patchouli fragrances on the market. Profumum‘s Patchouly definitely comes to mind, as do a few scents I will write about later this week.

A number of readers on Fragrantica don’t share my opinion. Take the issue of longevity and sillage. The majority (10) vote for “very long lasting,” followed by “long lasting,” while the sillage votes are split with 10 votes for “enormous” and 10 for “heavy.” Almost all the comments on the site are very positive, with a few comparing the fragrance favorably to patchouli niches from Montale, Micallef, and Molinard:

I absolutely loved the clean balminess of Pathcouli. That’s certainly the next best thing to Montale‘s Patchouli Leaves which I declared as my number one. I’ll not compare the two here though. In its own right, Reminiscence’s Patchouli is one of the best, cleanest, dreamiest patchouli fragrances you can ever try. No sharpness, no mustyness, no zesty/citrusy or artificial extra notes whatsoever… That’s the real stuff (some good quality patchouli oil) which has a distinctive “oily” smell reminding me of pure unadultered olive oil. In this respect it’s certainly “exotic”, quite Middle Eastern indeed[.] [Emphasis added by me to name.]

This one opens with incense shop and dry cedar wood. Then, a creamy vanilla and praline ensues and tempers the rather moody patch note at the bottom. It’s like teleporting from a Moroccan side street to a Venetian cafe for gelato. I thought at first this one was bitter, but comparing it to Molinard Patchouli and Montale, it’s actually on the sweet side. And I really, really, love it. It is a hippie gourmand essence, but harkens back to some more innocent and hopeful hippie hour; before 1968, say. [Emphasis added by me to name.]

A very beautiful and quite heavy patchouli on a woody base.It smells quite like patchouli oil,very concentrated and powerful. Reminds me of Micallef Patchouli,but Reminiscence’s Patchouli is way stronger and darker.The drydown is a bit sweet patchouli with wood.A hippie patchouli,all the way!It has very good lasting power and sillage! [Emphasis added by me to name.]

I think that this is the smoothest of [Reminiscence’s] patchouli blends, and I get a strong, golden, amber-y labdanum entwined with the soft, warm, earthy-resinous patchouli. It has a bit of vanilla sweetness to it, but is mostly a warm, rich, golden, resinous scent. The patchouli smells expensive and smooth, not at all dirty or sharp. It’s dark, golden, and decadent, and I fall in love with it again every time I wear it.

This is a rather Nice Patchouli . starts of kind of earthy and the smell of Earth and weth moss came to mind. […] But then after a little Wild the other notes comes in to make a Symphony .its still very Earth, Smokey, rather hippi like some state before me. […] i think you must be used to dry Patcholie to be able to pull of this kind of scent.

One of the most beautiful patchouli. [¶] A piece of art, strong in the opening, woody, earthy and wet in the middle notes, sweet and vanillic in the drydown, musky the day after. [¶] A deep and warm fragrance you can wear in cold weather and in summer’s evenings. [¶] Pefect and unisex, oriental sensuality and spirituality in a bootle.

you spray it.. black magic comes out.. engulfs you..scares you for a second..be strong ..take it..then ..you feel earth moves under your feet..it shatters you.. reminds you of your roots.. and where you came from.. and where you will eventually end..it smells like earth.. like wet earth.. so earthy.. ambery.. PATCHOULI.

I seem to be in the minority, as you can see, especially with regard to the issue of density and longevity. I do think that, if you want a perfectly serviceable, hardcore, dark and dirty patchouli fragrance, Reminiscence probably cannot be beaten for the price. You can buy a 50 ml bottle at various discount sites for between $57-$70. It’s a decent fragrance, and I even briefly considered getting a bottle for myself, despite the moderate longevity on my skin and the unfortunate sillage. At the end of the day, however, I simply can’t get past my feeling that Reminiscence’s Patchouli is merely quite average.

ELIXIR DE PATCHOULI:

Source: Fragrantica.

In 2007, Reminiscence came out with an eau de parfum of its trademark scent which it calls, alternatively, Elixir Patchouli, Elixir de Patchouli, or Inoubliable Elixir Patchouli. I’ll just call it “Elixir” for short. Reminiscence describes the fragrance as “the intense version of Patchouli,” and says it has the same notes.

With an average dose (2 small sprays), the Elixir opens on my skin with patchouli that is sweeter, warmer and much less bitter. There is noticeable vanilla up top, as well as labdanum amber. The fragrance has much more of a caramel smell at first, than dark chocolate, though that arrives later. There is also a distinctly nutty, cognac-like whiff, though it’s subtle. It certainly wasn’t there with the Patchouli Eau de Toilette at a lower dosage. Another difference is that the synthetic musk isn’t apparent in the base. As a whole, the Elixir feels richer, smoother, less dry, less sharp, and less woody.

Cypress swamp. Photo: Don Mace Agency. Source: conservationfund.org

Ten minutes in, the Elixir changes. First, there is a subtle undertone of wet tobacco, the sort of tobacco that some Americans chew. Then, the fragrance takes on a strange tinge that I can only describe as marshy — like murky, slightly fetid pond water. In my notes, I first wrote “rancid,” before crossing it out, as a more bitter, slightly rotting, fecund, wet earthiness appears. It reminds me a bit of the stagnant green water left in a vase of flowers after a week. At this point, I wrote “rancid” again, along with “rotting cedar?” and “pond algae.” The combination of the vetiver with the earthier aspects of the patchouli and the dry, smoked cedar must be to blame. Whatever the reason, I’m not very enthusiastic about it. Thankfully, the accord lurks under the top layer, lasts only about 40 minutes, and is not a dominant aspect of the Elixir with a small amount. However, if you spray on a lot of the perfume, then it’s extremely noticeable.

Thirty minutes in, the Elixir is a wet, musky, earthy patchouli scent with sweetness, chewed tobacco, smoky vetiver, dry cedar, and hints of caramel labdanum. The medicinal, mentholated note rises to the surface, as does the bitter chocolate. The fragrance follows much of the same olfactory path as the Patchouli eau de toilette, right down to the drop in sillage at the start of the second hour and a lack of opaqueness.

The two fragrances only diverge in path at the start of the fifth hour when the fragrance turns into a labdanum amber front and center, with vanilla and patchouli-milk chocolate tonalities lurking down below. In its final moments, the Elixir is merely a blur of amber with patchouli and a hint of dry woodiness, fading away around the middle of the 8th hour. With the same quantity, the Eau de Toilette version had ended an hour soon, around the 7.5 hour mark, though it felt translucent and close to dying at the start of the 4th hour on my skin.

With a much bigger quantity (4 big sprays), the Elixir opens as a lovely boozy cognac. It’s powerfully aged, rich, sweet, and potent patchouli, followed by labdanum amber, vanilla, cedar, and vetiver. It’s smoky, sweet, leathery, musky and boozy. The amber note is particularly nice as it feels like ambergris with its musky, wet richness. Then, the marshy undertone returns, along with that weird funk to the vetiver. The wet pond was back, but it was initially fleeting amidst all the cognac booziness.

Once the boozy note recedes at the start of the second hour, then the pond element returns in much greater force, and the patchouli now fully takes on that weird, “off,” somewhat rancid, dank tonality. The stale, chewed tobacco undertone is back as well. The two notes are infused with peppermint chocolate, and the whole combination feels like a very difficult, very wet take on patchouli. Yet, for all that strange tinge in the base, the Elixir is also a sweet, spicy, slightly smoky scent full of real patchouli richness. The mint notes are milder, the subsequent mentholated tonality is tamer and much less camphorous, and the whole thing is much smoother.

Source: pixabay.com

Ninety minutes in, the fetid vetiver pond fades away, and Elixir is a creamy chocolate-peppermint patchouli with vanilla. It’s much less bitter, dark, and woody than its eau de toilette predecessor. It’s also got significantly more projection, though that starts to soften around this time as well.

Slowly, the labdanum amber starts to take over. By the middle of the third hour, the Elixir is labdanum, patchouli, and vanilla, with soft flickers of cedar. There is a light, greenish woodiness in the base that I assume is the Australian “sandalwood,” but there is also a very pretty spiciness that has appeared. It’s very dry and dusty, almost like cinnamon that has been left at the bottom of some attic drawer. Once in a blue moon, that oddly rancid, woody element pops back up, along with a touch of sour muskiness, the old marshiness, and a hint of something medicinal.

Generally, however, the Elixir is an amber-patchouli scent with dry woody elements and vanillic sweetness. The fragrance turns softer, milder, and much sheerer as time goes by. At the end of the 6th hour, it becomes a wispy blur of labdanum amber with patchouli, followed by small traces of an indistinct woody dryness and just a whisper of vanilla. The Elixir remains that way until the very end, 10.75 hours from the start, when it’s the thinnest smear of something sweet, golden, and dry.

I liked the amber and cognac parts of the Elixir quite a bit, but there were elements that were off-putting for very different reasons than the original Reminiscence Patchouli. I’ve tried the Elixir a number of times, at different dosages, and always found it too sheer and with that strange, rancid, vetiver-cedar swamp nuance. Both the strength and duration of the note varied, depending on the quantity applied, but it was always there to some degree or another.

I also wasn’t impressed by the Elixir’s overall sillage which is generally moderate to weak on my skin, except for the fragrance’s opening hour or if a significant quantity is applied. That said, the Elixir has much better sillage than the regular Reminiscence patchouli which was pretty abysmal on my skin after the first hour unless a huge amount was used. On Fragrantica, the votes for the Elixir’s projection are tied, with 7 choosing “moderate,” and 7 choosing “enormous.”

With regard to longevity, the regular Reminiscence Patchouli may actually beat out the Elixir if a significant quantity is used. There were two instances where the regular Patchouli was still noticeable in parts after the 11th hour with 4 doses, while the Elixir seemed to have faded away almost entirely after the 9th hour, except for one small spot on my skin. It might simply be a misperception due to the soft sillage. On Fragrantica, the Elixir’s longevity is voted as “very long lasting” by a landslide over all the other categories. I clearly have very odd skin.

On Fragrantica, people love the Elixir, just as they did its predecessor. The comments are almost all raves, with one poster providing her thoughts on how it compares to the eau de toilette version:

i love this amazing patchouli. […] its similar to the older original patchouli […] but the elixer has a more vibrant vibes to it.. its a bit more alive.. more hip.. more aromatic.. its of course still that same old earthy patchouli ..yet its more mesmerising.. more sensual.. more beautiful ..i think it really depends on your skin […] its an amazing.. dark ..mysterious.. full bodied.. warm… sexual.. strong.. balmy ..almost crazy ..its so smokey.. […] its so cozy ..something in it just relax me.. if you get over the initial shock of the patchouli strength and all..it takes a little getting used to ..maybe a lot..! […] it smells like hippie princess and patchouli.. and its just mesmerising […]

Another poster compared it to well-known fragrances from other houses:

It opens with a swirl of amber and a chocolate-like note, very gourmand, – but not sweet – almost similar to Mugler’s Angel. Minutes apart you get a deep smoky note, very leather type in the league of Piguet‘s Bandit and Tauer’s Lonestar Memories. Then a earthy note peeps leaving a trail of soft but not tamed patchouly. It’s like resting after a crazy initial dance. [Emphasis to names added by me.]

Oddly enough, I do see how the smoky vetiver could evoke Bandit‘s greenness and leather feel, or how the cedar may bear some resemblance to that in the Tauer fragrance.

Speaking of comparisons to other fragrances, 10 people compared the Elixir to Montale‘s Patchouli Leaves, while 10 others thought it was just like Les Nereides Patchouli Antique. I have samples of both, but have only given the briefest of tests to the Montale, so I can’t compare except to say that the Montale is significantly deeper and richer in my early estimation. I’ll update this section when I review the two scents properly. What is interesting, however, is that only 5 people voted that the Elixir resembled its mothership fragrance, Reminiscence’s original Patchouli. As noted above, I think there are differences too, beyond just depth, smoothness, and intensity.

Source: Nathan Branch.

Another name which has come up is Serge Lutens‘ Borneo 1834. One blogger, Nathan Branch, found the two fragrances very much kindred spirits:

Patchouli Elixir is a stronger, more intense version of the soft, sweet original Patchouli fragrance from Reminiscence, and it easily runs in the same league as Serge Lutens Borneo 1834 — lots of potent green and camphorous patchouli for the first few hours, gradually softening into woods with a dusting of vanilla-cocoa over the rest of its long life-span.

Source: Nathan Branch

But I want to stress that the juice goes on very strong. The BF, who’s the warm and huggy type, walked up to me for his usual morning squeeze only a few minutes after I’d sprayed some of the Elixir on, but a look of alarm flashed across his face when he got close and he suddenly veered off with just a quick pat to my shoulder, so if you’re planning on going out anywhere and you want to wear some Reminiscence Patchouli Elixir for the day, either apply with a light touch or give yourself a couple of hours before walking out the door.

I’m tellin’ ya, this stuff is a serious patchouli stink bomb right out of the bottle.

I agree, it’s extremely potent at first, and it shares some similarities to Borneo 1834, though I think they are far fewer than Mr. Branch does. Borneo never turned into a cedar-vetiver swamp on me, the tobacco undertone was very different, and so was its drydown.

All in all, I think both Reminiscence fragrances are very pleasant, but have some issues. Each one has a single, weird note that puts me off, lacks the weight I’m looking for, and could have better longevity or overall, long-term sillage with a normal dose. I go back and forth on which one I prefer, but I like Profumum‘s Patchouly more than either of them. In all fairness, I’m very picky when it comes to patchouli, and have a perfect scent (and weight) in mind that I’m seeking to replicate. Given that everyone else seems to adore the two Reminiscence fragrances, they may be worth checking out for a test if you’re a hardcore patchouli lover.

DETAILS:

Patchouli EDT Cost & Availability: Patchouli is an eau de toilette that is available in 3 sizes: 50 ml, 100 ml, and 200 ml. The prices are, respectively: €52, €76, and €105. Reminiscence: Reminiscence has an e-store, which offers 2 free samples with every order and, for a limited time until 12/23/13, free shipping. Their delivery countries are: France, the UK, Italy, Germany and Austria. Reminiscence has shops throughout France, but also in Italy, Belgium, and Switzerland. In the UK, I found Patchouli at Miriam London Boutique where it retails for £59.00, but it is currently sold out. In the U.S.: you can find Patchouli heavily discounted on Amazon which sells the 50 ml bottle for $57.91 via a 3rd party seller. You can also buy Patchouli from BeautyHabit which sells Patchouli for $70 for a 50 ml bottle. There is also StrawberryNet which ships worldwide and which sells Patchouli in the 50 ml bottle for $70.50 or the 100 ml for $96. Samples: Surrender to Chance offers samples starting at $2.99 for a 1 ml vial.

ELIXIR EDP Cost & Availability: The Elixir de Patchouli is an eau de parfum that comes only in a 100 ml bottle and which costs €94 or $120. In the U.S.: BeautyHabit sells all the Reminiscence fragrances, and you can find the Elixir for $120 for the 100 ml bottle. You can find the Elixir on Amazon for $124.55. It is also sold at StrawberryNet for $125.50, and the site ships worldwide. Outside the U.S.: the Elixir is available directly from Reminiscence which offers 2 samples with every purchase and, for a limited time until 12/23/13, free shipping (in France, to the UK, and selected European countries). You can also find the Elixir at the French Sephora or at the StrawberryNet site linked above. They ship world-wide. Samples: I obtained my sample while at Reminiscence in Paris, and I can’t seem to find any place in the U.S. that may carry it. I don’t know if BeautyHabit offers samples for sale, other than the free ones which come with an order. Surrender to Chance does not carry the Elixir de Patchouli.

Mazzolari Lui: Equestrian Patchouli

Posted on September 15, 2013 by Kafkaesque

Somewhere, there is a horseman who smells like this — and, I don’t mean that in a bad way. Lui is a patchouli fragrance with a surprisingly animalic, leather twist, and I quite enjoyed it. It is the scent of dark, slightly dirty patchouli infused with the aroma of a leather saddle and a heated, musky horse galloping over earthy vetiver. Despite an intensely masculine opening, its animalic nature is ultimately a refined one that calls to mind virile, macho polo players more than cowboys on the range. On the right skin, it would be sexy as hell. On me, it was a bit less than what I had expected.

“Dressage Black and White” by Diana Rose Greenhut or DianaExperiment. http://www.flickr.com/photos/dianagreenhut/5830354123/

Lui is an eau de toilette from the Italian niche house of Mazzolari. The house goes back to 1888, but Lui was released in 2006. As a lover of dark patchouli fragrances, I couldn’t believe my eyes when I read its description and the sheer range of gushing, raving reviews. It seemed like Lui might be my Holy Grail for patchouli, a scent good enough to tempt me into considering a blind buy. I’m glad I tested it first because, intriguing and interesting as it is, I’m not in love with it.

Lui in its black box that opens like a book. Source: The Different Scent company.

Some basic details on the fragrance are hard to obtain. Mazzolari’s website is best navigated by someone who speaks Italian — and that is not one of my languages. I can’t find any information on who created the scent, and I don’t trust Google Translate’s version of Mazzolari’s description for the scent. So, let’s go with Luckyscent which describes Lui as follows:

Potent and virile, Lui is the fragrance of a refined man with a wild streak a mile wide. Rich with patchouli, vetiver and leather, this is a complex and unguarded scent, completely comfortable on the skin yet smokin’ hot underneath. Hints of sandalwood tame the wild animal, while a dark amber and rich musk enhance the raw sensuality of Lui. Raw and elegant at the same time, Lui is an uninhibited fragrance for a man who likes to keep everyone guessing…and just a little on the edge.

The notes — as compiled from Luckyscent, Fragrantica and elsewhere — seem to be:

Indonesian patchouli, vetiver, leather, sandalwood, Texas cedar, spices, ambergris and flowers trails.

Nic Rolden, polo player, via Horsenation.com

Lui opens on my skin with patchouli dominated by a leather note that feels raw, very butch, and somewhat fecal. It smells a little like the inside of a brand new, extremely expensive leather shoe that has a touch of horse manure smeared on its sole. The leather has a strong whiff of sweaty horse attached to it. In short, it’s raw, animalic, slightly musky, earthy, and a bit fecal, all at once. For me, it was an instant flashback to the smell of my own horse after a long ride and of being in the stables afterwards. I didn’t mind it one bit, and actually enjoyed the very equestrian feel of it. It also strongly called to mind the horsey note in an old, classic, leather fragrance, but I can’t seem to recall which one it might be. (It’s not Hermès’ Equipage.) Regardless, it’s a twist on leather that I find more interesting than that in many modern leather fragrances that I’ve tried recently, though I have to wonder how some non-equestrians might take it. Women, in particular, may find Lui’s opening to be overly masculine, and the leather a little bit too raw.

Polo player, Nic Roldan.

The horsey leather aroma completely overshadows the patchouli in the opening minutes, and is soon joined in its potent blast by a strong, rooty earthiness from the vetiver. The latter feels sharply green, almost herbal in nature, and with a slight funk that adds to the unexpected twist. Something about the overall combination really feels like the musky, sweet earthiness of a slightly heated horse, its sweaty leather reins, and the whiff of the stables all around. Yet, it’s not hardcore barnyard by any means. I have a friend who is in the racing and horse world, and he often retains the lingering traces of his day on his skin, even after a shower sometimes. If you imagine patchouli’s dark, slightly spicy, slightly smoky sweetness infused with an earthy greenness and a strong trace of the horse world on a very masculine guy’s heated, slightly musky skin, then you’d have the feel of Lui’s opening minutes.

Argentinian polo player Nacho Figueras. Source: DailyMail.co.uk

With every passing minute, however, the horsey leather loses its fecal edge and softens its initial intensity, though its animalic essence never fades completely away. Instead, 45 minutes in, it retreats to the sidelines to hide behind the patchouli. At the same time, the sandalwood and some abstract, amorphous spiciness rear their head in the base, adding a woody depth and richness to the fragrance. More noticeable is the growing hint of a slightly smoky, green cedar lurking about the edges. It creates a strong visual of dark greens, rich red-browns, and leathery darkness. The overall effect calls to mind an elegant dressage equestrian or tough polo players, not John Wayne wearing chaps and riding on a Western saddle on a desert range. Somehow, the horsey leather in Lui is a very refined note despite its masculine edge.

Source: wallpaperswa.com

Lui is primarily a triptych of patchouli, leather and vetiver, that never changes its core essence for an incredibly long period of time. The degree and strength of the three main notes fluctuate over time, as does the indirect impact of the notes in the base, but Lui is really a leather-patchouli scent with vetiver. At the end of the second hour, Lui feels like soft swirl of patchouli from afar, but every time you sniff your arm closely, the animalic, hard, horsey leather pops up. Hour after hour, I thought it may have finally vanished, but it lurks behind the patchouli’s dark richness. The vetiver eventually melts fully and completely into the scent, joining the subtle, almost indirect, muted sandalwood and spices in the base, but the leather never does. It never loses its distinct touch of the stables either, no matter how light it may be. I like it — but I’m admittedly rather passionate about the horse world.

It takes about nine hours (!!) for Lui to change a little, and, even then, it’s only temporary. The fragrance takes on the slightest tinge of powderiness, and Lui becomes much sweeter, too. The powder is never significant, however, and only lasts an hour or two before Lui returns to its primary bouquet of patchouli with hints of leather. Lui remains that way until its very end, an astonishing 13.25 hours later. Did I mention that this is an eau de toilette?!!

Lui’s potency is something that is frequently mentioned in comments on places like Luckyscent. An an eau de toilette, the fragrance has a certain lightweight feel and thinness. Yet, it also has the strength of a powerful eau de parfum. For the first two hours, Lui felt like a very noticeable but soft, airy cloud that hovered about 2-3 inches above the skin, but then, it quickly dropped and turned even thinner in feel. Its potency, however, was always very good. I had read that two sprays can last forever, but that Lui is better appreciated with a light application. I ignored that last part, and I applied 3 very large-ish smears (yes, I love my black patchouli!) which is probably less than 2 sprays from an atomizer, and I was incredibly impressed by Lui’s longevity. The projection was merely moderate, however, though Lui is strong when sniffed up close for at least 7 hours. At that point, the fragrance finally became a gauzy veil right atop the skin. Even so, it still didn’t take much effort to detect the patchouli leather. If this is an eau de toilette, I can’t begin to imagine what an eau de parfum from Mazzolari might be like!

Lui generally gets extremely positive reviews. Take a look at some of the Luckyscent comments that made me temporarily consider a blind buy:

Mazzolari Lui is truly mind-blowing. Two spritzes MAX to the mid-section is all you need to enjoy this heady, deep, hypnotizing italian brew. Pure masculine power and erotisism in a bottle.

Lui is one scent that has elicited more positive comments than any other in my wardrobe. As has been stated, it lasts for hours, and the drydown is just so very nice. I can’t think of any other scent that compares. Wonderfully masculine, yet comforting and should be be in every man’s repetoire of fragrances.

Way too many new fragrances are samey, dull and unremarkable. Glad I found this. Deep, powerful but refined. Great evening scent. Get a sample, you’ll realise it’s worth the price-tag. I’ve always loved patchouli but it goes sweet on me. This time it didn’t.

When lightly applied this really shines as a dark, smoldering Patchouli based scent. The Patchouli takes twists and turns and finally gives way to a wonderful Ambergris base. Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful – though apply it lightly or you won’t like it.

Fragrantica commentators are equally enthusiastic. To give you just one example, the assessment by “alfarom” who writes:

Someone may describe Lui as simplistic, I prefer to say it goes straight to the point with no frills. A dark, butch and testosterone driven animalic bomb, built around a patchouli-amber structure. The opening is brutal with a massive dose of civet and other animalic “amenities”. Definitely not for the faint of heart. A thick patchouli note, breaks in right away and together with amber, drive the fragrance towards a slightly powdery, leathery, endless drydown. Old school, challenging, dirty and by all means mascuilne. [¶] If you like hair-chested types of fragrances such as Parfum D’Habit, Macassar and the likes, this stuff is for you. Me? I’m sold.

Yet, for all that Lui is marketed and loved as a men’s fragrance, women like it, too. One example is the Non-Blonde who tried Lui, and bought a full bottle. Her review reads, in part:

Lui is supposedly a masculine fragrance. The notes are sandalwood, cedar, patchouli, ambergris, vetiver and spices. It’s strong and heavy on the patchouli. Not for the faint of heart, that’s for sure. The impression from the very first note to the drydown is of a dark and earthy scent. The woods aren’t dry. The sweetness is kept in check by the spices (cinnamon? clove? It depends. Nothing too obvious).

The earthiness has reminded my husband of JAR’s very dank and oakmossy Shadow. I’m not sure if the two are comparable, but I sort of know what he’s talking about. The darkness of the wood and the spicy depth of Lui do have something in common with Shadow, but it’s sweeter which makes it more wearable for women. Or, at least, for me. I loved it on my husband as well as on myself. It has a lot of presence and gives an aura of confidence. The patchouli here is sexy, not a head shop scent. It’s strong and would probably not appeal to those who only go for subtle.

The one exception to all these largely similar accounts seems to be Nathan Branch who had a totally different experience, one centered almost predominantly around powder:

Lui by Mazzolari is yet another powdery sandalwood/patchouli kitten masquerading as a musky wild cat. The non-blonde insists that Lui is earthy with dark woods and a spicy depth, and a reviewer at Base Notes waxes on about how animalic and potent it is, but Lui could only be considered “earthy” or “animalic” if you’re used to wearing perfumes that are predominantly violets or lily of the valley.

Lui opens up with a blast of Johnson & Johnson baby powder, then settles itself into heavily sweetened sandalwood and patchouli territory until it rides off into a light musk sunset crowned with plush, pink clouds. There’s nothing particularly singular or interesting in the way it goes about its business, but it’s nice enough for social gatherings and will probably get you some notice, provided you’re hanging out with a group of ex-hippie mothers at a baby shower.

Oh dear. I have to emphasize that his experience seems to be atypical, but I think it’s an important one to keep in mind if your skin amplifies powder notes.

For me, personally, I think I shall pass on Lui. I really liked certain bits of it, and enjoyed my test quite a bit, but I wasn’t wowed or deeply enamoured. The main reason is that I’m looking for a dark, deep, super spicy, opaque, black patchouli fragrance, and Lui sometimes seemed be heavily leather and vetiver in focus. The amber never showed up on me, and the spicy, smoke that I like with my patchouli was almost imperceptible. In short, I was looking for something extremely specific when I tried it, and, in that sense, I was disappointed. In all other ways, however, I enjoyed Lui and think it’s a very good fragrance. I also think it might completely turn my head to smell it on a guy’s musky, warm skin.

Adolfo Cambiaso. Photo: Gabriel Rocca.

Nonetheless, I don’t think Lui is for everyone. You have to love animalic leather that feels almost raw and butch at the start, before it mellows into something smoother, mellower, and softer. You also have to love patchouli with a dirty edge. Those of you used to purple, fruited patchouli of the sort in Coco Noir or any host of commercial, mainstream fragrances, be aware that this is a totally different animal. (Thank God!) Lui is a masculine fragrance in bent, but I certainly think some women could wear it. Women who have a riding or equestrian background, in particular, might absolutely love it. It takes a very familiar aroma, and transforms it in a very refined, sexy manner. In short, if you love patchouli and animalic, masculine leather, Lui is one to keep in mind.

DETAILS:

Cost & Availability: Lui is an eau de toilette that comes in a 100 ml/3.4 oz size and which costs $175, €109 or €125. In the U.S.: You can find Lui at Luckyscent. Outside the U.S.: Mazzolari has a website, but it doesn’t seem to have an e-store or to list vendors outside of its own boutiques in Italy. I didn’t find it the easiest website to navigate, though it may have been a language barrier. I found Lui sold at Essenza Nobile for €125, Germany’s The Different Scent (for the same amount), and First in Fragrance for €109. I had difficulty finding other vendors in other countries, such as the UK, France, or Oceania. Samples: I obtained my sample of Lui from Surrender to Chance where prices start at $3.99 for a 1 ml vial.