Belleotero

This is a massive, heady floral with birch tar undertones. At least, that’s how it starts. The floral accord involves warmth and slight spiciness — rather than being big and light like Narcisse Noir. But in a way it IS like Narcisse Noir — as there is also an immediate paired underneath layer of something more earthy and bitter. (In Narcisse Noir I think it’s civet, here it must be leather.)

Then! The frankincense? starts to appear, I think, and sort of builds a bridge between the floral and the slightly bitter, gritty underneath. The floral warms up even more and integrates with a bright-leaning resin. At this point I smell no birch/leather at all, just a headily warmed up floral with spiced resin undercurrents.

It feels very intensely concentrated for an EDP. It reminds me of the original Samsara — not because it includes any sandalwood, but in its heavy heat, simplicity and intensity. Volume is way up.

About 2-3 hours in the floral takes a nosedive (relatively speaking; it’s actually still quite pronounced, just nowhere near the opening head-rush intensity) and there is a salt-semen-marine-blood impression that enters. And lasts! Subtle and steady, close to the skin.

I have made a couple of comparisons — but I find this quite distinctive.

In theory this is not a stand-alone, but mainly a perfume meant to boost/enhance/nuance any of the other Elie Saab Cuir series. I heartily disagree: this suggests to me that Francis Kurkdjian has more up his sleeve. I’m wearing it in 20-25 C weather and apart from the first blast/minute I would almost guarantee no one who walked in to my apartment during the last hour would have said “you smell like leather!”
There is a lot of at least two types of ylang (a heady/fruity and a gasoline/rubber) together with spicy mincemeat ; there is some smoke …
I want to call it a lesson in perfumery — in part because I am also currently sussing out Cuir Ylang and the overlaps I smell are not where I expected them.

What I can say, so far: this is highly unusual and potent, in my view gorgeous stuff. I think it leans just slightly masculine but it is so outside what most people are wearing it’s hard to say. It will not be everyone’s cup of tea. I have twice been told “ you smell (so) good!” but I have also overwhelmed someone who had to roll the car windows down. One person said “mmm, you smell like a lady!” — so I suppose it is not inherently more masculine! It does smell expensive. It really radiates.
I am going to have to spend more time on it. Back in two weeks.

(ok just two hours later but I finally found it: it is very reminiscent (not note for note but in intensity, vibe and construction) of my last few precious drops of Millot’s Crepe de Chine parfum. (Less complex< less powder, but a similar density and intensity and a certain kind of grit.) This Cuir may be a full-on chypre of the old style.

This is beautiful — warm, dry spicy woods that have given many people around me the impression that I am wearing a sandalwood perfume, though no sandalwood is listed in the notes. It is much less of an amber than the analysis on Fragrantica suggests (an analysis that persuaded me to purchase this in my ongoing search for my perfect amber fragrance!) —rather, there are “ambery facets” precisely as the reviewer below notes. which bloom at times and just slightly sweeten the dryness of the sandalwood impression. I most recently tested this before bed, and woke up with the sandalwoody scent on my pillow — lovely! It is fairly light and transparent for a scent built partly on resins, reminding me a little of Tam Dao in that respect and in its dry-woods effects, but has good lasting power on me.

I didn’t realize I like my amber slightly beastly till I tried this one. Molinard Ambre is not a beast. It’s a refined, verging on delicate amber. Not at all gourmand-sweet-sticky, not at all floral: it doesn’t bother with a bunch of notes in other categories and in principle it’s the kind of amber I want. It plays out a beautiful blend of resins that smell like the real thing — dried nuggets of frankincense, myrrh, benzoin (although in hot weather it also gives me lactonic, orange creamsicle or orange sherbet).

But I can’t help measuring it against SL Ambre Sultan, my so far favourite amber by a mile, which is similarly dry and rich, but also really digs in and sort of grasps your skin while simultaneously trying to have a conversation with you. Molinard’s amber more lays alongside your arm, chilled out, beautiful, and making no conversational demands.

I like it very much. I wish it bent my brain a bit more, like Molinard’s Cuir and Patchouli do.

Vroom! Fascinating fragrance. Gasoline and motor oil opening, rather heady. As a woman this accord makes me feel daringly, provocatively macho, in a borrowed-from-the-boys, motorcycle jacket way — it’s how I imagine women in the 1920s felt wearing Tabac Blonde. But under the jacket is something more elegant. The fragrance takes some time to settle — for a while, quite a strong lemon verbena takes over, mingles with the petrol, and meanwhile the leather impression is slowly taking form via the saffron and oud - a fairly smooth leather but with some tannic sharpness. In and out float the lilies, sometimes there, sometimes not, hovering a couple of inches above the leather and tilting this at times in a more feminine direction. There is also a soft, pervasive, rounded skin scent that arises and carries through the end of the drydown, which I *think* is musk (a scent I don’t have much experience of). Later on I get some kind of dried green note — the patchouli? The longevity of this development is about four hours, followed by at least a couple more of the quite soft, lovely, gentle leather/skin scent that wears very close to the body. At 8+hours in the lilies are back, now over very soft suede.

I find myself addictively smelling my arms while this whole thing goes down. I love it. I think Luca Turin has missed a trick in dismissing all the “ards” of French perfumery as simplistic and touristy — Molinard’s Cuir, for one, is fabulous.