Top Notes 
Heart Notes 
Base Notes 
03/28/2022
Arcane
11 Reviews
Arcane
1
Of a discreet and refined simplicity
With the perfumes of London-based luxury brand The Merchant of Venice being at the higher end of the niche price spectrum, I never thought I'd be able to afford anything more than decants. Until, one joyful autumn day, I acquired a nearly unused 50 ml bottle of Precious Woods eau de parfum concentrée from their Museum Collection at a more than decent price. I've used it on special days only, wondering afterwards if those days were special just because I wore it.
So now here we are, many moons and a bloody lot of global hysteria later, and I am once again wearing Precious Woods. How joyful it is. How discreet. How refined. On my skin it starts off as a soothing gust of frankincense and saffron mixed with a summer night city kind of tar or tyre note. There's no citrus in the opening notes that I'm aware of. Slowly but steadily, the perfume develops into a scent of the smoothest well-worn leather. After a bit, in sails the smoke. Ah! But there's something else present in this most subtle of olfactive creations, something rather fascinating underlying the scent of that soft leather and lovely smoke. The magic word?
Cypriol. This exotic, reed-like grass is nothing like the fresh, crispily green grass of springtime. No. It is the sunray-beaten, already brownish grass of Indian summers when many of us, with that delicious tinge of melancholy, feel autumn approaching at a swift pace. Its herbaceous quality makes all the difference here. From the base notes, patchouli and sandalwood are, however moderately, reaching my nostrils. Vetiver, as listed in the pyramid, I do not detect at all – and I have a serious penchant for vetiver. After a few hours, those precious woodsy notes are almost leaping at me.
This eau de parfum concentrée version of Precious Woods – there's an eau de toilette version as well – ticks all the boxes for those of us who, on special days, evenings, nights or otherworldly occasions, delight in a particular scent to be savoured without anyone else present. Never mind the perpetuum mobile of the world's insanity. Imagine yourself reading an H.E. Bates novelette by candlelight, or listening to 'Point of No Return' by Sinatra at about an hour or two past midnight, sipping a rye-based Old Fashioned, and you're just about there.
As for 1- sillage, 2- longevity and such: 1- discreet, 2- average and tralala. A special mention must go to the elegant bottle with its clever locking device; whoever designed it, I salute you. Summa summarum: Precious Woods from The Merchant of Venice is a true treat for the solitary refined.
So now here we are, many moons and a bloody lot of global hysteria later, and I am once again wearing Precious Woods. How joyful it is. How discreet. How refined. On my skin it starts off as a soothing gust of frankincense and saffron mixed with a summer night city kind of tar or tyre note. There's no citrus in the opening notes that I'm aware of. Slowly but steadily, the perfume develops into a scent of the smoothest well-worn leather. After a bit, in sails the smoke. Ah! But there's something else present in this most subtle of olfactive creations, something rather fascinating underlying the scent of that soft leather and lovely smoke. The magic word?
Cypriol. This exotic, reed-like grass is nothing like the fresh, crispily green grass of springtime. No. It is the sunray-beaten, already brownish grass of Indian summers when many of us, with that delicious tinge of melancholy, feel autumn approaching at a swift pace. Its herbaceous quality makes all the difference here. From the base notes, patchouli and sandalwood are, however moderately, reaching my nostrils. Vetiver, as listed in the pyramid, I do not detect at all – and I have a serious penchant for vetiver. After a few hours, those precious woodsy notes are almost leaping at me.
This eau de parfum concentrée version of Precious Woods – there's an eau de toilette version as well – ticks all the boxes for those of us who, on special days, evenings, nights or otherworldly occasions, delight in a particular scent to be savoured without anyone else present. Never mind the perpetuum mobile of the world's insanity. Imagine yourself reading an H.E. Bates novelette by candlelight, or listening to 'Point of No Return' by Sinatra at about an hour or two past midnight, sipping a rye-based Old Fashioned, and you're just about there.
As for 1- sillage, 2- longevity and such: 1- discreet, 2- average and tralala. A special mention must go to the elegant bottle with its clever locking device; whoever designed it, I salute you. Summa summarum: Precious Woods from The Merchant of Venice is a true treat for the solitary refined.
Finerthings8
