Mojave Strange

Mojave Strange by Barnaby Black
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Mojave Strange is a limited perfume by Barnaby Black for women and men. The release year is unknown. The scent is woody-spicy. It is still in production. Limited Edition

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Fragrance Notes

Arizona juniper, Blue spruce, Spicy notes, Ericameria nauseosa, Wild flowers



7.4 (7 Ratings)


6.5 (6 Ratings)


5.3 (6 Ratings)


6.8 (6 Ratings)
Submitted by AmyAmy, last update on 24.03.2019.
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Greatly helpful Review    24
Retsina americana
The manufacturer classifies'Mojave Strange', to put it bluntly, in his collection of oddities. I can only assume that this is based more on the choice of plant flavours than on the fragrance itself. However, I cannot judge this simply because almost all Barnabys are based on such special, often only in North America native plants that I simply do not know them - hence the flight into partly nebulous generalities that runs through my commentary series to this provider.

I don't find today's candidate strange at all. I already know the bitter freshness of the start, which sticks to the aftersmell of something goat's cheese and the slightly sweaty accompaniment of it. Above all, however, the fragrance quickly becomes mild, with a fine, spicy sweetness. This makes him the most pleasing Barnaby to date - in the sense of "round", not "chumming up". He is also the first to trigger the "What-smells-here-so-toll?-that-is-me!"-thought.

I find the quickly present liqueur note, as if from a resined wildflower-herbal liqueur, very unusual. Ah, perhaps the North American answer to the retsina? After an hour I feel like in the middle of a whole meadow of flowers and herbs, mixed with sweetness.

Only in the course of the morning it becomes more bitter, while at the same time an almost dry-fruity impression takes hold, which in turn touches on the liqueur. And it does NOT get dry-obstig-gammelig. A well-dosed needle note contributes just that medicine (optional portion of bitters) that is guaranteed not to make you sick.

In the past hours I thought many times: If Amouage ever decided to return to old class, they could get the formula, "add a ladle of incense and then have a soft straight-so-even-oriental, for which they could save themselves the thing with "Man/Woman".

In the afternoon, the fragrance - astonishingly from the same aroma reservoir - shows a "more naturally fragrant" image. Maybe one tooth too much sweetness has got into it now. But that is whining on a high level, because until the evening I feel friendly surrounded by a resinous liqueur with a more la-la-la-floral aspect. The Marsala thickened cliff, where'Dark Woods' failed, is narrowly circumnavigated today.

Conclusion: The allegedly so strange representative is above all simply a little different than most of his siblings from the six-sample set, which I (thank you!) received from Yatagan. I like Mojave Strange.
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Very helpful Review    8
Snakes singing to the high plateau thunderheads
She was a Mohave. Deep down, however, she was much more than her tribe. All´die Winter, which her people already roamed through these countries. Hunted. Lived. Survived. Always in line.

It was actually the task of the elders to record the stories in the stone. It was always men who became shamans among their people. The "rattlesnake" was the first female. Now she sat here and looked down from the mountains into the valley of her people. The desert their people. Her picture in the cave was almost finished. She had been dancing for rain for days. Then painted again. Dancing again. Finally the clouds came up and would give life to the desert. If they made it over the mountains. Your people's food. The healing power of plants. Make it possible for her to return.

In her bag around her neck, "Rattlesnake" carried her home with her. The rabbit bush, with its very own, unreal aroma. The yellow, small flowers had become pale and dry in the meantime. The stems shone silver. The collected needles of the trees from the summit rustling while walking. The few fragile flowers of her homeland that she had brought with her were already falling apart in her bag. As she stepped out, the first drops fell to the ground. Hit her face. She opened her mouth and with every drop more she caught, her happy laughter swelled and resounded into the valley. The plants in the soaked bag around her neck caught the water and awakened one last time to the song of life. She looked back at her picture on the wall. The rattlesnake that summoned the rain clouds. That was her. The first of its kind. And certainly not the last.

The vegetation of the Mojave Desert, named after the Mohave tribe who have lived there for thousands of years, is something very special. Everything seems gruff and always on the threshold of extinction. The surrounding mountains have created a rain shadow desert. A barren country that exists only in this way because the high mountains rain the clouds and rarely rain directly. But the mountains feed the desert at their feet. The result is a life on the pulse of rain, to which the Native Americans also subjected themselves as the rhythm of their being. All the more impressive is the cultural legacy of the petroglyphs - stone carvings - which can often be found as a memory and ritual time capsule of indigenous peoples. Contrary to the cave paintings, e.g. in Chauvet, here the pictorial representations, similar to an engraving, were carved into the stone. In addition to hunting, prey animals and, above all, ritual representations, there are also many symbols thousands of years old, which only experienced a negative connotation in modern times and at that time, at the beginning, stood above all for life - in all its beautiful forms.

Mojave Strange captures the uniqueness of the almost hostile country that managed to feed a people that could be named after a wide area. As always, in Barnaby Black's work, a scent image, a moment of perception, is created and captured here that transports us to the foot of the rain mountains. To the edge of the desert. An area full of life. Adapted life. The plants have small, almost needle-like thickened leaves. Are frugal with the little that the ground gives. The scents of this landscape are so concentrated - so compressed - that life presents itself here. Crushed, the leaves and flowers of the rabbit bush (ericameria nauseosa) give a diffuse aroma, between pineapple and rubbery notes of itself. The wildflowers complement with subliminal, floral sweetness, without really "flowering". The flowering plants thus bring in a fresh, almost unreal and very filigree spectacle. Right at the start Mojave Stange surprises with an aura like fresh after the rain, everything is clear and unspoilt. The water washes life back into the flora. The needle green floats slightly ozonically and spreads a conifer scent. Beautiful and thematic. This green-woody basic sound remains as a bed over the entire fragrance and draws the individual facets of the flowers and juniper into itself. Weaves the image of Mojave, at the foot of the mountain that donates her life - or denies it.

PS: My title is again a quote from the Barnaby Black homepage on fragrance. This is supposed to be the result of an inspiration to develop a recipe from a petroglyph.

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