Turquoise opens with a synthetic nebula of aldehydes and calone brutally superimposed on more realistic balsamic notes, red pepper, a freezing incense note, something anisic-resinous, amber, something like a dry leather note on the very base (not a “full” leather accord, but something dry and slightly “roasted” with a salty-rubber aftertaste – like quinolines and the like). It is an odd scent indeed, which intrigues you at first: not “pleasant”, actually, but not even unpleasant, at least at first. Or just a bit. But more than that, just weird. Actually the most prominent “weird” factor is the clash between the cold, azure, lunar synthetic notes of calone and the (synthetic, I guess) pine-incense accord with the more “realistic”, earthy warmth of resins, woods and spices. It’s an extremely dimensional, almost “vertical” fragrance, somehow creating a sort of shade from cold/azure to warm/brownish (that’s how I would picture this scent), with quite some clashes between bold notes going on – calone, pepper, resins, incense, they’re all quite loud and fighting for your attention. Now, once you get over the first impression, you’ll probably realize that as much intellectually fascinating it may be (it isn’t that much, though...), Turquoise isn’t actually that nice to wear. Once you get over the first “wow?” and once the notes settle on skin and reach their drydown, it starts to smell a bit boring (not to say annoying). Mostly because of the calone-on-unrelated-stuff thing, which fits as good as a trout on a pancake (which is actually how Turquoise smells in its central and final phases). Shortly, it may be a “de gustibus” matter but I think this is one of those scents which are more intellectually fascinating than actually pleasant to wear (and I personally consider that a defect).