Tauer Perfumes Eau d’Epices

Posted on March 31, 2014 by Kafkaesque

An ode to orange blossom, done the Tauer way: dusted with spices, smoked with frankincense, turned black and rubbery with elevated indoles, sweetened with candy, and infused with amber. That’s Eau d’Epices (sometimes called L’Eau d’Epices or No. 12 – L’Eau d’Épices) an eau de parfum from Tauer Perfumes.

Photo: Hypoluxe.

Eau d’Epices was originally released in 2010 and has just been re-released. I’ve sought specific clarification on the timeline of events, and whether the sample I received was from a new batch or formula. I’ve been repeatedly assured that it is not. According to Hypoluxe, Tauer’s American distributor, Andy Tauer created one batch of Eau d’Epices in 2010 which sold out by 2012. He held off on creating more to see how customers responded to the scent, and only recently decided to create more. So, again, the formula is said to be identical, and there should be no question of batch variations.

Orange Blossom. Photo: GardenPictures via Zuoda.net

The press release for Eau d’Epices describes the perfume as follows:

One of Tauer’s favorite naturals, orange blossoms absolute, plays a central role in this scent that is unique and original. Natural oils from spices orchestrate an opening that is vibrant, and warm. Red mandarin softens the spices and prepare for the orange blossoms that bloom in l’eau d’épices together with another white flower: Jasmin. Frankincense essential oil leads over to a classical Tauer base chord featuring ambergris, tonka, hints of vetiver and the woody warm perfume of cistus ladaniferus resin, resembling a walk in a pineta.

HEAD NOTES
An Indian basket of spices with cinnamon, cardamom, clove and corriander with red mandarines.
HEART NOTES
An opulent heart of orange blossom, jasmine, orris root and incense.
BODY NOTES
A woody cistus ladaniferus resin, softened with ambergris, tonka beans and vetiver.

I tested Eau d’Epices twice, using different quantities and experienced two very different opening phases. The perfume eventually ended up in the same place, but the focal point was quite different in each test, especially in the beginning.

VERSION ONE:

Smarties. Source: imgarcade.com

The first time, I used 2 small sprays from my atomizer, and the dominant aroma on my skin was candy sweets. Specifically, Sweet Tarts (or SweeTarts) and Smarties, with a touch of the exploding, fizzy Pop Rocks. All the candies have a very sweet aroma that is powdered. Here, however, the Sweet Tarts of Eau d’Epices’ start was also accompanied by a brief lemony touch from the coriander and a hint of red fruits (more like berries). Hot on their heels was jasmine, sticky orange, flickers of vetiver, a whisper of orange blossom, and dark spices, all on an amber base.

SweeTarts candies via Wikipedia.

The jasmine’s initial burst quickly receded, leaving a bouquet that was almost entirely Sweet Tarts with orange sherbet that had been dusted with cinnamon. There were tiny pinches of cardamom and cloves, but the cinnamon ruled them both on my skin. The orange blossom never really showed up as a floral note the way one normally encounters it, and the frankincense was barely perceptible. The whole thing was extremely sweet, but also playful and whimsical in a fun way.

Source: itsybitsyfoodies.com

For the first hour, the cinnamon orange sherbet and powdered Sweet Tarts ruled almost unimpeded by the other notes. Then, the spice bouquet became stronger, with the clove slowly creeping to the foreground. Much more significant was the vetiver which, on my skin, often manifests a minty freshness. It did so here with Eau d’Epices, too. As the vetiver swirled into the syrupy sweetness of the fruity sherbet, it felt almost candied in a way that was quite enjoyable.

About 2.5 hours in, Eau d’Epices starts to shift more dramatically. My skin often amplified or clings onto vetiver, and Eau d’Epices was no exception. The vetiver begins to take over the dominant position, trailed by the spice-dusted orange sherbet, the candied notes and the amber. The candy feels almost more like Cinnamon Red Hots now, instead of Sweet Tarts but there is still a powdered quality to the note. (It’s undoubtedly from the orris.) Slowly, slowly, the amber rises to the surface, and Eau d’Epices begins to turn into a scent that is labdanum amber with minty vetiver. The perfume feels simultaneously resinous, candied, sweet, and dusted with spices.

Photo: My own.

At the start of the 5th hour, Eau d’Epices is a highly blended scent that is largely dominated by the “Tauerade” signature base. That particular accord is quite identifiable, as it always features a darkly resinous amber which is simultaneously somewhat woody, sharp, smoky, and sweet.

Here, it is infused with vetiver and cinnamon candies. Again, my skin has a tendency to bring out vetiver to an unusual degree, and to cling onto it like mad, especially if it is Haitian vetiver with its minty undertones. You may not necessarily experience the same thing. At Eau d’Epices’ edges are lingering whispers of orange sherbet, but they fade away entirely as the hours pass. By the end of the 7th hour, Eau d’Epices is a whisper of resinous Tauerade with vetiver and a light sprinkling of tonka powder. In its final moments, the perfume is merely a blur of Tauerade amber.

All in all, Eau d’Epices lasted just short of 10.75 hours on me during the first test with 2 small sprays from my atomizer. The perfume was always incredibly concentrated in feel and potent, especially up close. Eau d’Epices only turned into a skin scent on me at the start of the 4th hour, but it was still easily detectable without much effort until the 8th hour.

VERSION TWO:

Photo: My own.

The second time I tested Eau d’Epices, I applied 4 sprays from my atomizer, amounting to 2 proper sprays from an actual bottle. The result was something that I think was much more true to what Eau d’Epices is meant to be, as it was a scent that was fully dominated by orange blossoms.

My second test of Eau d’Epices opened with orange blossoms and orange, followed by sticky resins, loads of cinnamon, sweetened powder, and hints of both cloves and lemony coriander. The perfume again smelled of Sweet Tarts and candy, but the orange blossom was only inches away this time and soon took over completely. It was very sharp, fresh, and indolic with a blackened heart of sticky resins and smoky leather. Frankincense swirled all around, and it too had a sharp bite that contrasted quite deeply with the candied feel.

This version of Eau d’Epices was powerfully indolic. Indoles are put out by white flowers like orange blossom as a signal to bees and, in their most undiluted form, can smell either rubbery, mentholated, fecal, a little urinous, plasticky, or like mothballs. Here, with Eau d’Epices, the indoles smell exactly like mothballs — something I’ve only experienced once before with a scent that used a lot of absolutes and that barely diluted the indolic element. At the same time, there is a very mentholated tonality to Eau d’Epices that almost fizzes. Something about the perfume’s opening feels as if actual menthol was used in the way that it was with YSL‘s vintage Champagne (Yvresse), though the fizziness here tickles the nose far more than in that fruity floriental.

Source: Forwallpaper.com

Eau d’Epices shifts after 5 minutes. Hints of jasmine appear, weaving throughout the top notes and adding even more sweetness to the bouquet. The cloves and cinnamon grow stronger, while the coriander and cardamom retreat to the sidelines. As a whole, the spices feel much less dominant in this version of Eau d’Epices, while the florals and frankincense are significantly more powerful. The impression of orange sherbet and Sweet Tarts is significantly less prominent this time around, as well.

Photo: Huffington post

As a whole, Eau d’Epices is a very sharp, smoky, blackened, candied and syrupy floral bouquet dominated by orange blossom. It is thoroughly infused by mothball-like indoles on the top, with smoky, rubbery, almost leathered, smoky nuances underneath. The smokiness is further amplified by the sharp frankincense, and then the whole thing is dusted with cloves and cinnamon. It’s a powerful, massive bouquet that initially projects 5-6 inches with the 4 atomizer sprays.

Eau d’Epices changes over the next few hours, but only incrementally. The vetiver becomes prominent at the end of the first hour, weaving its way throughout the orange blossom. The latter is so rich, it feels almost boozy at times. At the start of the second hour, Eau d’Epices turns noticeably warmer and deeper, as the amber slowly begins to rise from the base. The flowers lose that menthol fizziness, though much of their indolic blackness remains. As a whole, Eau d’Epices is more powerfully floral, with only a little sweet sherbet; the spices seem stronger; and the perfume feels more golden in hue.

By the end of the 4th hour, Eau d’Epices is a bouquet of vetiver and indolic, mentholated orange blossom, followed by sharp incense, sweet jasmine, hints of sweetened candy powder, and cinnamon over a sticky, woody amber base. The perfume feels sharp and rough, but also soft, and it hovers an inch above the skin.

Eau d’Epices’ core bouquet remains unchanged for hours and hours, shifting only in the prominence and order of its notes. The jasmine retreats to the sidelines; the spices turn nebulous and abstract; the frankincense feels stronger; and the vetiver takes over center stage with the orange blossom. The sharp, woody, smoky, Tauerade ambered base looks on from the wings, but it joins the two leading players at the end of the 8th hour. Eau d’Epices turns into a simple triptych of orange blossom, vetiver, and Tauerade.

Photo by Jianwei Yang, I think. Source: bhwords.com

It remains that way for hours, merely growing more nebulous and abstract, until it fades away entirely in a blur of woody-smoked-amber lightly flecked with vetiver. All in all, Eau d’Epices lasted 14.5 hours with the equivalent of 2 proper sprays from a bottle. As a side note, that quantity of Eau d’Epices created a bouquet that was so concentrated and strong, it was almost too much so for me — and I love potent scents. So you may want to go easy on the application.

ALL IN ALL:

I’ve read in a few places that Eau d’Epices is supposed to be a “love it/hate it” scent, but I don’t feel either emotion. I don’t like it, but I certainly don’t hate it. I simply got tired of Eau d’Epices’ indolic bombast and overall untrammelled intensity. I blame my own skin for much of that, as it always amplifies base notes. (It also seems to take vetiver to ridiculous extremes.)

Photo: My own.

For the most part, though, Eau d’Epices simply perplexes me. It’s really not what I expected. Given the name and the description of the notes, I had expected “a spice basket,” but ended up instead with Sweet Tarts and orange sherbet, or with mothball orange blossoms, sharp incense and minty vetiver. I really dislike the mothball aspect of the indoles, and that turned out to be my greatest issue, along with Eau d’Epices’ overall sharpness. Even the Tauerade base to both versions felt too sharp and raw for me, unlike that which I’ve experienced in other Tauer orientals. Jeffrey Dame of Hypoluxe tried to tell me that the sample I received had been freshly prepared 30 days ago, so the perfume may not have settled and continued to be very fresh. Perhaps.

On Fragrantica, reviews are mixed for Eau d’Epices. I was interested to read the most recent review from just a few days ago which says that the perfume smells “rough”:

Amouage Reflection Man meets Mrs. Dash. I’d say it’s a match made in Heaven, but it smells rough.

Mark Rothko, “Untitled (Violet, Black, Orange, Yellow on White and Red),” 1949.

I have to agree, but another chap wrote a veritable paean to Eau d’Epices just a week before with which I also agree to some extent:

One of the most-brilliant compositions I have ever smelt! Definitely orange-blossom dominates (with a hint of tuberose?), but it is bent and molded into something quite-different and unexpected with an overlay of spices (Ceylon cinnamon is, to my nose, strongest, followed by cloves, and then coriander seed), while the lower, “wood-like” facets of the flower’s essential oil are entwined like loving roots into vetiver and frankincense- it is hard to find where orange-blossom begins and ends, it is that well-married… I also sense a hint of linden-blossom bonding quite well with the “green-grassiness” of vetiver, expanding, diluting the sweet nature of the white-floral heart.

The effect is striking, with a definite character of its own. It reminds me a little of ‘Poeme’, but is not so “round and soft”: there is a “masculine”, assertive edge to Eau d’Epices- despite it’s strong floral character- which makes it, in my opinion, fairly unisex… and, also, quite oriental. Anyone with a modest attar-collection would probably not be shocked so much by this fragrance, but I can see many women of mainstream-western taste being put off by the rich, resin-backed spiciness, and just as many men being put off by the bold use of a sweet white floral. It toys with gender. It is not a crowd-pleaser by any means; it retains its unapologetic integrity throughout its long evaporation, and could be a strong, unmistakeable signature for a self-assured person.

I think he’s right a lot of points, even if we feel differently about the overall effect. The orange blossom is indeed well-married and thoroughly blended into all the other notes, and Eau d’Epices is an unapologetically dark, spicy, very unisex blend that may appeal to those who love very concentrated fragrances.

For one woman on Fragrantica, the dark, resinous base was not the problem so much as the spices:

It sprayed on with promise, a number of sharp notes appeared initially and then it dried down to a yoga studio/head shop type scent on my skin. From there eau d’epices developed into a really cloying mix of overly sweet spices. I ultimately had to scrub it and spend some time outside in a cool breeze to clear my nose.

Photo: David Hare via open.za

For The Non-Blonde, however, the spices in Eau d’Epices created a scent that was “gorgeous.” Her 2010 review begins by noting how there is no cumin in the scent, then states:

Now that we established that Eau d’Epices is not Tauer’s answer to Arabie and its back alleys of the Souk, let’s talk about what it is (other than gorgeous). This is a classic Tauer in the sense of offering the familiar Tauerade accord in the dry-down: a balsamic cistus, ambergris and a dry woody thing in the background, but the potent potion is less assertive at first and gives a lot of breathing room both to the spicy opening and to the incredibly sensual floral heart. Eau d”epices is breathtakingly complex and requires a lot of attention the first few times you smell it. The fragrance takes you on an exotic journey and fills your mind with all kinds of Arabian Nights imagery[….][¶]

The thing is that once you make friends with this colorful vision, Eau d’Epice becomes warm easy to wear. Yes, one must love incense and spice, not to mention the Tauer accord, but if you do, this masterfully crafted and blended perfume is a must-try for both men and women.

To that list of requirements, I would also add “very indolic white florals.” Yes, you have to love both the Tauerade signature base and a lot of spices, but the core of Eau d’Epices is the orange blossom absolute — in all of its manifestations. And that includes indoles. Even if you don’t experience the mothball note, you are likely to face one (or more) of its other characteristics.

So, give Eau d’Epices a try if you love orange blossoms, spices, incense, and dark resinous Orientals.

Disclosure: Perfume courtesy of Hypoluxe, the U.S. distributor for Tauer Perfumes. That did not influence this review, I do not do paid reviews, and my opinions are my own.

DETAILS:

Cost & Availability: Eau d’Epices is an eau de parfum that only comes in 50 ml bottle and costs $135, £92, or around €105. At the time of this post, the Tauer website is currently under maintenance or updating for a week, so I can’t link you to his e-store. In the U.S.: Eau d’Epices is available for pre-order with April shipping from Luckyscent. At MinNY, the perfume should be in stock by 3/31, so the website listing will probably change soon from the current “special order” status. Another option is Portland’s The Perfume House which already has Eau d’Epices in stock. Outside the U.S.: The new Canadian carrier for Tauer Perfumes is Indiescents, though Eau d’Epices is not yet listed on their website. That should change at the beginning of April. For most of Europe, you can purchase Tauer fragrances directly from the company, along with samples, Discovery sets and the 15 ml 3-piece mini collection, but the website is down right now. Elsewhere, Essenza Nobile and First in Fragrance currently have Eau d’Epices for €105, though bottles are probably from the original release. In the U.K., Scent & Sensibility is the exclusive retailer for Tauer Perfumes, and offers Eau d’Epices for pre-order at £92 with delivery to follow at the end of April. Samples: Surrender to Chance had Eau d’Epices starting at $3.99 for a 1/2 ml vial, but a reader told me that they are sold out of their old bottle at this time.

Yosh Konig

Posted on March 30, 2014 by Kafkaesque

At the heart of a vetiver forest, there is a campfire whose smoke swirls into air made crisp with a hint of red apples and dark with flecks of black leather. It’s a forest named after the king, or Konig, and it is the latest creation from the San Francisco perfumer, Yosh.

Konig via Luckyscent.

Konig is an eau de parfum released in 2013 and created by Yosh’s founder and nose, Yosh Han. Her website describes the perfume and its inspiration as follows:

An homage to the king within, perfumer Yosh Han, introduces KÖNIG, a dark charismatic elixir fit for royals of yesterday and mortals of today. KÖNIG takes us to a deep, black Bavarian forest during the time of medieval kings.

This elegant masculine scent captures the dual nature of man – gentleman and hunter, an alpine fragrance that evokes a king on a hunt, racing through the Bavarian forest with aromatic bitters and crisp red apples in the air. Beneath a layer of snow flowers, it opens into a white musc and deepens into the scent of saddle leather and smoky firewood.

[Notes:] Aromatic bitters, sage, cypress, apple, smoky papyrus, snow flowers, bois d’landes, vetiver, white musc, saddle leather, amber, firewood

Snowdrops via missouribotanicalgarden.org

Fragrantica gives the following perfume pyramid:

Top notes are sage and cypress; middle notes are red apple, papyrus, snowdrops and woody notes; base notes are vetiver, white musk, leather, amber and woody notes.

In case you’re wondering, “snowdrops” are not clumps of snow. According to Fragrantica, they are very pretty white flowers (Galanthus nivalis) that have a cool, fresh, floral note. As for “Bois d’landes,” I’m afraid I have no clue what that might be, and my Google searches turned up nothing.

“Novemthree” by Olaf Marshall. Source: vitaignescorpuslignum.blogspot.com

Konig opens on my skin with smoky vetiver, cedar, smoke, papyrus, and tinges of apple. It is a thin, sheer, light, but potent bouquet really centered around smoky vetiver with the campfire smoke of singed woods. Birch has to be one of the unspecified “woody notes” mentioned on Fragrantica, or perhaps it is that “bois d’landes.” The bouquet is supplemented by a light herbal hint, and a trace of a synthetic “woody amber” note that smells, to me, like Ambermax, though it could be any one of a number of woody-amber aromachemicals on the market. The apple is extremely muffled on my skin, and turns into faint impression of a vaguely fruited sweetness after a few minutes on my skin.

As a whole, Konig feels mostly like a sheer mélange of dark, smoked vetiver and various singed woods, all infused with birch campfire smoke on a base that is lightly flecked by a nebulous sweetness and an amber aromachemical. It has very soft sillage that radiates out about 2 inches with 4 large smears, and only 1 inch with half that amount.

After 5 minutes, the perfume shifts a little. The tiniest flicker of leather appears. It’s a subset of the birch, another aspect separate from that campfire smokiness. It evokes images of black leather, and feels both rubbery and a little bit raw. The woody-amber aromachemical grows stronger, but it never drowns out the smoky vetiver or the birch in the perfume’s opening hour. The ghostly suggestion of apple darts in and out of the dark notes, only occasionally reading as “apple” instead of a nebulous sweet fruit. I don’t detect the snowdrops or anything floral at all.

Source: hqdesktop.net

Konig really doesn’t change much on my skin. At best, the notes rearrange themselves in terms of their order and prominence. The one noticeable difference occurs after the end of the first hour when the vetiver starts to manifest a fresher undertone that is minty, like a touch of bright greenness amidst the dark smokiness. The aromachemical “woody-amber” simply continues to grow stronger, taking on an ISO E Super-like undertone that is a bit antiseptic and like rubbing alcohol on my skin. (It is the main reason why I’m guessing the note is Ambermax, as I’ve experienced that peppered, antiseptic, half-cedar, half-amber, ISO E-like woodiness before in a fragrance that I was informed contained Ambermax.) The sillage hovers just above the skin at the end of the 1st hour, the suggestion of sweetness fades away, and Konig feels even gauzier.

The notes continue to rearrange themselves as time goes on. At the start of the 3rd hour, the birch is now much less prominent, and its lingering traces center on campfire smoke, not leather. The woody-amber note takes over almost completely, and infuses the smoky (but also slightly minty) vetiver from head to toe. The two elements become the main focal point of Konig for the next few hours.

“Gold smoke” by etafaz on deviantART.

At the start of the 7th hour, Konig feels like a blur of woody-amber that is almost about to vanish. Yet, my skin clings onto aroma-chemicals tenaciously, and Konig is no exception. The drydown is quite pretty, feeling like a slightly smoother, softer coating of amber, without some of the earlier sharpness and medicinal undertones. In its final moments, Konig is a mere suggestion of amber lightly flecked by woodiness. All in all, Konig lasted just short of 10.75 hours on my skin.

Encre Noire. Source: perfumelegant.com

There are mixed reviews for Konig out there. On Fragrantica and elsewhere, a lot of people think Konig is like Encre Noire with a touch of apples. I haven’t tried the Lalique fragrance which I know is a vetiver scent with a massive amount of ISO E Super, but I can understand why people might see a connection. Some of the Fragrantica posters write:

This is Encre Noire with leather. Same Elmer’s glue smell with a super dry woody note. I’m surprised that people see it differently. Longevity is 4 hours, sillage is moderate, replay value also moderate thus making the perfume somewhat forgettable. I have come to the conclusion that Yosh will never top her best creation of Sombre Negra.

I get a lot of cypress in this. To my nose, it’s basically Encre Noire (current formulation) with apple note. Moderate projection and longevity on my skin.

On my skin I really like the play between the leather, vetiver and cypress in this. They’re blended in a way that gives a harmonious smokey/dark accord whilst at the same time being easily singled out from each other. After a minute or so the apple, papyrus and sage come through and lay themselves over the leather and woods; lessening the smoke vibe and leaving a faint floral/fruity/woody quality. 30 minutes in and what’s left on my skin is competing notes of dry apples, vetiver and leather.

On Luckyscent, the two comments for Konig both express disappointment over a medicinal aroma:

Medicinal and balmy, resembling the smell of sterile first aid gauze. Not terrible smelling, but not good at all.

I agree – highly medicinal at first. Literally smells like a potent band-aid. Once that wears off (takes about an hour on my skin), you’re left with a slightly fruity, leathery skin scent. Eh. Not in love with it.

On Basenotes, there is a whole thread expressing disappointment with Konig. Again, the issue of Encre Noire comes up often. Numerous commentators state that Konig is not bad, but it falls short of expectations. One chap who is actually from Bavaria wrote:

I received a sample and to be honest I am disappointed. I expected something truly outstanding, I mean it’s not bad, but simply not what I expected. […][¶] “König” smells a bit like “Encre Noire” with some apples. The apple-note is not sweet, it’s more like those green and refreshing apples, so it actually adds some coolness and freshness to the scent. It has a nice dry and smoky wood-note, but also like “Encre Noire” this synthetic smelling so-called “White Musk” which I dislike and I think there is also a hefty dose of Iso E Super in it. It has sharper edges than “Encre Noire” and it smells a bit more natural, but is still quite synthetic.

All in all it’s okay but nothing groundbreaking.

The medicinal or ISO E Super-like element is repeated by others in that thread, as well:

Count me among the disappointed. I am a big Sombre Negre fan and had high hopes. To me there is something like a cypress/Iso E Super accord (reminds me somehow of Terre d’Hermes) laid over burnt wood. I’m fine with weird juxtapositions, but this does not work for me. Also seems weak and short-lived. Took 5 or 6 sprays to the chest and gone within a few hours.

For me it comes off as medicinal and balmy early, resembling sterilized first aid gauze right out of its pouch. All this with some slightly citric tart apple at the open slowly adding in leathery vetiver-driven woods late. The early developing medicinal aspect just does not work for me at all. Not a good one, IMO.

As regular readers know, I have great problems with aromachemicals, perhaps because my skin amplifies them and makes them last for an eternity. However, even I could manage the one in Konig, as it was hardly as excessive or dominant as other fragrances that I’ve tried. My main difficulty with Konig was something else: I simply don’t enjoy vetiver soliflores. Vetiver is wonderful as one element in a multi-faceted bouquet, but fragrances centered almost purely on the note aren’t really my thing. I also didn’t like Konig’s sheerness and thinness, though I kept thinking that it would be a great summer scent for someone who wants a light vetiver with smokiness.

A lot of the comments quoted above are very fair in their assessment of the fragrance, but I think it’s going to come down to personal tastes. More importantly, I think it’s going to come down to expectations. Konig is simple, straightforward, and uncomplicated, but it’s not a bad scent by any means. The problem seems to be that everyone expected Konig to be as rich, nuanced, and deep as Sombra Negra. It’s not.

If you’re a passionate lover of vetiver fragrances, you may want to give Konig a sniff. If you don’t have strong expectations for a deeply leathered scent, if you don’t anticipate a lot of apples, and if you don’t hope for something analogous to Sombra Negra, then you may enjoy Konig as an easy, campfire, smoky vetiver for very hot months when you don’t want a very heavy fragrance.

Disclosure: Perfume courtesy of Yosh. That did not influence this review, I do not do paid reviews, and my opinions are my own.

DETAILS:

Cost & Availability: Konig is an eau de parfum that only comes in 50 ml bottle and costs $130 or €130. The Yosh website does not have an e-store. In the U.S.: you can buy Konig from Luckyscent, and that is the one place where you’re guaranteed and certain to get this current version. Konig is also sold at Barney’s (which states that it is their exclusive). Outside the U.S.: In Canada, Yosh is carried at The Perfume Shoppe, which has Konig listed for what may be CAD$130. In the UK, I couldn’t find a retailer. In Paris, you can find Yosh at Colette, but I don’t see Konig listed on their e-shop. First in Fragrance sells Konig for €130, as does Essenza Nobile. In the Netherlands, Konig is available at ParfuMaria, and the Perfume Lounge carries the Yosh line as well. In Dubai, Yosh is carried exclusively at Saks Fifth Avenue. In Russia, I think it’s available at iPerfume, but the Cyrillic translation doesn’t make it totally clear to me. For all other locations, you can look up a vendor near you on the Yosh website. It’s not easy to navigate and does not have separate pages, so I cannot give a specific link directly to their Stockist page, but they list a few retailers from Belgium, Italy and Germany, to a handful in Asia. Samples: You can obtain a sample from Luckyscent. Surrender to Chance does not have Yosh fragrances, so another alternative is The Perfumed Court which sells Konig starting at $3.99 for a 1/2 ml vial.

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

Posted on March 28, 2014 by Kafkaesque

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

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

Photo: Mert & Marcus for Interview Magazine.

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

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

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

Dawn Spencer Hurwitz. Source: The Perfume Magazine.

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

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

The DSH website describes Euphorisme d’Opium as follows:

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

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

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

Photo: Alamy. Source: The Daily Mail.

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

Source: 1stdibs.com

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

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

Source: Flowerpics.net

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

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

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

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

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

Ylang-Ylang. Source: Soapgoods.com

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Photo: bykoket.com

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

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

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

Source: abm-enterprises.net

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

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

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

The sultry Victoria at EauMG writes, in part:

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

Ava Gardner photo from EauMG’s review.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Photo: Matt Anderson via elements-magazine.com

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

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

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

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

The 10 ml bottle of EDP. Source: Fragrantica.

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

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

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

DETAILS:

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

DSH Perfumes Cafe Noir & Parfum de Luxe

Posted on March 25, 2014 by Kafkaesque

Source: en.visitparisregion.com

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

CAFE NOIR:

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

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

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

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

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

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

Source: mainstreamsochi.blogspot.com

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

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

Source: Dailymail.com

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

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

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

Photo: naldzgraphics.net

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

Photo: sitnica.

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

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

Source: Pinterest and lattelisa.blogspot.com

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

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

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

Photo by Satr via This Blog Really Stinks.

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

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

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

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

Source: tomsguide.com

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

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

Source: davidwarkentin.blogspot.com

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

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

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

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

PARFUM DE LUXE:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Source: free-hdwallpapers.com

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

Licorice. Source: Dylanscandybar.com

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

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

Source: SnapperOne Blogspot.

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

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

Photo: stonecontact.com

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

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

Source: texeretrade.co.uk

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

Photo: stonehousetiles.co.uk

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

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

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

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

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

Source: posterpal.com

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

DETAILS:

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