OGBuysblind

When it first opens, Blackbird smells like chemically treated, oily leather. There's almost a searing quality to it, as if some kind of toxic chemical was used to tan the hide and it hasn't completely dried yet. It's odd, but it smells good, and is restrained enough as to avoid an overbearing presence. It's black, and hardcore, the color of crude oil. Then, this really peculiar, salty seaweed accord creeps in and blends with the leather. It's a kind of a cold, marine, coastal smell and you can almost feel the salty moisture in the air. This is a really cool phase of the fragrance, and I've never experienced, or expected to experience leather and seaweed together. But here they are, in a quirky, symbiotic relationship creating something new and previously unheard of. It's worth mentioning that this is also the most realistic 'sea salt' note I've encountered. The cannabis in Blackbird plays the edges, and gives a nice "Kinski-esque" accent to the composition. And there's a dark green, piney forest element that lives in Blackbird as well. It provides some familiarity in an otherwise strange and unusual scent. Finally, Blackbird settles into its base with a natural, high quality oud that is resinous, a bit animalic, and a little dirty. This is real oud, as it appears in expensive oud oils and attars, and its unmistakable. There is a similar oud in the base of Vikt (by Slumberhouse), but other than that, I've rarely experienced this in mainstream niche perfumery. Hats off to House of Matriarch for including real oud instead of the industry-standard synthetic, as there's an enormous difference between the two. With wear, other little facets of Blackbird blossom, appear, and disappear. While it maintains the basic structure described above, subtle shifts pop up throughout its duration.

I was surprised by how wearable and pleasant I find Blackbird. I was expecting something big, foreboding, and nuclear. But it's not. It's much more compressed than I had expected, less expansive, and not intrusive at all. It projects about a foot and leaves a light, though firmly present sillage. I like this about it, and it makes the wholly odd and interesting composition easier to digest and enjoy. And in some ways, without analyzing it up close and in depth and thinking about it so much, this is just a very enjoyable masculine leather fragrance. I received a few comments on it and basically they could be summed up as, "Oh, that smells nice." So it's not like you're going to go around freaking people out when you wear this. But it will maintain your interest, and you certainly don't own anything else like it. Longevity is very good.

On a spacial note, I don't feel like Blackbird totally envelopes me when I wear it. Because of its compressed structure, I almost feel as if I'm looking down on it, from some distance above. And below I can see a forest as it stands in the mist, all foggy greens looming over a sandy, beige coast, a little dark and gray, with some rain clouds opening over the sea. It's this detachment that allows me to wear Blackbird and admire it for what it is.

One of my favorite finds this year, I highly recommend sampling this even if you think it sounds like it's a little too much to handle or too heavy. It's really not, and you might just find the leather you've been looking for.

This is a great new gourmand offering from A Lab on Fire. It opens with a spicy top that smells like a combination of Red Hots and Coke. At first it seems layered over a light vanilla note, but then a deliciously rich, buttery almond accord appears and takes the vanilla along with it. I had a hard time believing the perfumer was going to pull this off successfully, but the "macaroon" in Paris*L.A. is fantastic. I actually get a little hungry smelling this. It takes you right to the heart of the dessert, and you can easily imagine all the ingredients as they're being prepared together in a bowl. Almonds, butter, sugar, and egg whites presented in a small, chewy little cakes--they're all there in just the right proportions and seem composed by a skilled, graceful hand. What I really enjoy about Paris*L.A. besides the fun, unique notes that are presented, is the fact that it's smooth and wearable. There's nothing clumsy or "blob-like" about this. It doesn't become overbearing, as gourmands often do. Uncompromisingly sweet in what it presents--Coca-Cola and Macaroons--Paris*L.A. manages to avoid becoming cloying because it is never too heavy. In fact there's almost a fresh, fizzy quality to the entire fragrance that keeps it afloat and buoyant. I suppose this is the Coca Cola in play, and it does a wonderful job of balancing the macaroon.

As far as masculine vs. feminine, this seems very much unisex to my nose and I'd have a hard time labeling it one or the other. I consider this a casual, day or nighttime fragrance. It's fun and has a playful, carefree nature. Projection is solid--it gets out there, but it's not crazy. Longevity is around 6 hours. Overall, Paris*L.A. feels like a very modern take on an unabashed gourmand, and it should find plenty of happy fans as word about it starts to spread.

Hats off to the perfumer, Laurent Le Guernec, who did an excellent job with this, and to A Lab On Fire, a company that's created quite a diverse lineup by releasing unique fragrances with a stylistically modern appeal. Paris*L.A. sits right at the top of that lis

Remarkable. An icy cold hyper-mentholated burst of camphorous mint and citrus notes get this one off to a rollicking start. The banana leaf adds some sweet green notes to the mix and you're left with a startlingly radiant example of freshness-pushed-over-the-edge, past all normal boundaries and into something bizarre, unique, and completely new. Synthetic? Absolutely. Eau Radieuse seems as if it was concocted in a futuristic lab complete with hazmat suits and puffy clouds of liquid nitrogen smoke. But it's totally wearable AND the general public seems to like it. I get compliments when I wear this. It's not weird in an "eww, what's that smell?" kind of way, it has more of the, "Oh my god, what are you wearing?" type of effect. And it's not surprising that people notice it because this one PROJECTS. However, the way it projects is very unusual. Think of dispersed light rays refracting from a crystal and you'll have some idea of the physical nature of this fragrance. It's not solid. It's an aura, ethereal and radiant, befitting of its name.

Absolutely try this, as it needs to be experienced to be understood. One of my favorites, and completely different than anything else I own. Eau Radieuse is one of those fragrances that I stumbled upon and was instantly reminded as to why this is such a thrilling and enthralling hobby.

Is L'Homme Ideal a bold and daring presentation from the house of Guerlain? No. But it's a nice fragrance. L'Homme creates a cherry-almond effect that is sweet and immediately reminds me of the fall and winter holidays. Smooth and polished, it's less obnoxious than other popular sweet fragrances such as 1 Million, Fuel for Life, or Spicebomb. The main accord, which smells like a combination of cherry tobacco and marzipan is charming, and in my opinion, different enough from what's typically available on the market. As L'Homme develops, lavender emerges and it moves in the direction of a heavy tonka bean base. There's not much more to it than that. Like it's predecessor, Homme, I find L'Homme Ideal succeeds in smelling modern and appealing to a broad audience, while maintaining enough of a distinct character to separate it from the pack. I haven't smelled anything quite like it and it has the polished touches of a skilled perfumer that set it a notch above the rest. Sillage is very good and longevity about average. Check this one out if you're looking for an easy-to-wear, relatively sweet scent for the cooler months. Avoid it if you dislike gourmands and tonka beans, or demand something edgier from Guerlain.

Thumbs up.

This isn't good. Oxymusc is so light as to be almost completely unrecognizable for the first 3 hours after which it totally vanishes leaving nothing behind but the faintest hint of burnt rubber. I own this and when I first sprayed it on my arms I went, "Huh?! Seriously?!" I felt like I had been had. There is a teeny, tiny smell of candy-like, sweet oxygen that's not unpleasant necessarily, but it's soooo faint. And it smells like the late dry down of a teenage girl's perfume. Other people will not smell this on you unless you're having sex with them minutes after putting it on. You won't smell this on yourself either unless your nose is pressed up directly to your skin or you have special powers. Even then, it won't last. Rationalize this as minimalism, or simplicity, or fragrantic Zen but in the end it's just a really, really weak scent that is nowhere near the proximity of its $110 price tag. A slightly sweet, pleasant white musk with the volume turned so low as to be inaudible. If it's white musk you're after, go with The Bodyshop. I've been a fan of most of A Lab on Fire's offerings and Alberto Morillas is one of my favorite perfumers. I was really excited for this. However, both failed to deliver with Oxymusc. What a shame.

Sample first.