DrB1414
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DrB1414
Apex Laotian Oil
Oriscent Pusong LTD. Difficult to imagine a Laotian oil that can rise to the heights of Royal Kinam, Kyara Koutan, Hyang Kang, Nha Trang LTD, Kyara LTD, and the like, but this one proves that theory of mine wrong. A Laotian Oud Oil that delivers in that therapeutic/medicinal department yet boasts more of a mellow and satisfying profile than all those mentioned above.
The opening showcases that same bitter-medicinal, kinamic smoke accord, yet it doesn't feel sharp and brain-piercing, but rather mellow like fatty clouds of fine smoke dancing around you. It envelops your senses in a warm and anxiolytic embrace rather than serving you an espresso shot, like some of the previously mentioned. It's much sweeter also. I'd say the sweetest of the bunch, no hesitation. Strong honey-like sweetness. A golden-hued oil. After that initial smoke cloud clears off, the oil has this powdery texture. Powdery wood, honey, and some milky and pollenesque-like facets. I can't get the pollen association out of my mind. I have consumed raw pollen daily for several years now and love its taste and texture. Smelling this oil makes me reminisce about its qualities on my palate, over and over again. The thing that I noticed with Pusong, is that it shifts texture significantly throughout the wear. From powdery and hazy to focused and tangible. In the later stages, the woodiness becomes concentrated and palpable, and the honey feels crystalized now, almost sugary. As I mentioned earlier, this is a sweet oil. The milky quality stays throughout, but dims with time. It is equally soothing as it is delicious and satisfying. Golden is the perfect color for it. It has a strong presence although it never feels heavy or overwhelming. I would not hesitate to say it is the apex for all Laotian oils, certainly out of the ones that I have tried so far.
IG:@memory.of.scents
The opening showcases that same bitter-medicinal, kinamic smoke accord, yet it doesn't feel sharp and brain-piercing, but rather mellow like fatty clouds of fine smoke dancing around you. It envelops your senses in a warm and anxiolytic embrace rather than serving you an espresso shot, like some of the previously mentioned. It's much sweeter also. I'd say the sweetest of the bunch, no hesitation. Strong honey-like sweetness. A golden-hued oil. After that initial smoke cloud clears off, the oil has this powdery texture. Powdery wood, honey, and some milky and pollenesque-like facets. I can't get the pollen association out of my mind. I have consumed raw pollen daily for several years now and love its taste and texture. Smelling this oil makes me reminisce about its qualities on my palate, over and over again. The thing that I noticed with Pusong, is that it shifts texture significantly throughout the wear. From powdery and hazy to focused and tangible. In the later stages, the woodiness becomes concentrated and palpable, and the honey feels crystalized now, almost sugary. As I mentioned earlier, this is a sweet oil. The milky quality stays throughout, but dims with time. It is equally soothing as it is delicious and satisfying. Golden is the perfect color for it. It has a strong presence although it never feels heavy or overwhelming. I would not hesitate to say it is the apex for all Laotian oils, certainly out of the ones that I have tried so far.
IG:@memory.of.scents
Dark and Bitter
L'Oudh from Tauer Perfumes.
Hands down my favorite from the house and one of my favorite uses of oud in a more or less commercial offering on the market. The house is a hit or miss for me, but this little fellow hits the spot. To my nose, the perfume is not an oud-centric composition but rather uses the material to pull off an overall accord that feels larger than the sum of its parts. This perfume is dark, bitter, dry, and earthy. There's nothing pretty about it. Zero sweetness. The best way I can describe it is the smell of an old carpet found in a castle ruin right in the middle of a thick, old forest. Seriously now, it does smell like an old carpet. It has this betel leaf-like bitterness, a vivid earthiness from both the oud and the mushroom, and a slightly chewy quality from the resins. The castoreum is brilliantly used to suggest a leather accord, while the cypriol rounds off the composition and completes the "Oud Accord". I dislike cypriol in perfumes when it's poorly blended as I struggle with the ingredient, but here, it doesn't bother me one bit. The fragrance is monolithic and linear. What you get on the first spray is what you're left with for the rest of the day. Usually, I'm not a fan of that as I get bored rather quickly, however, when the smell and the vision the scent portrays are so well placed, as in this case, I love that it doesn't change. I would place this perfume in my "special" category under the "Medieval Perfumes" moniker. Scents that smell old, dark, and ancient. And that's exactly what you'll get with this one.
IG:@memory.of.scents
Hands down my favorite from the house and one of my favorite uses of oud in a more or less commercial offering on the market. The house is a hit or miss for me, but this little fellow hits the spot. To my nose, the perfume is not an oud-centric composition but rather uses the material to pull off an overall accord that feels larger than the sum of its parts. This perfume is dark, bitter, dry, and earthy. There's nothing pretty about it. Zero sweetness. The best way I can describe it is the smell of an old carpet found in a castle ruin right in the middle of a thick, old forest. Seriously now, it does smell like an old carpet. It has this betel leaf-like bitterness, a vivid earthiness from both the oud and the mushroom, and a slightly chewy quality from the resins. The castoreum is brilliantly used to suggest a leather accord, while the cypriol rounds off the composition and completes the "Oud Accord". I dislike cypriol in perfumes when it's poorly blended as I struggle with the ingredient, but here, it doesn't bother me one bit. The fragrance is monolithic and linear. What you get on the first spray is what you're left with for the rest of the day. Usually, I'm not a fan of that as I get bored rather quickly, however, when the smell and the vision the scent portrays are so well placed, as in this case, I love that it doesn't change. I would place this perfume in my "special" category under the "Medieval Perfumes" moniker. Scents that smell old, dark, and ancient. And that's exactly what you'll get with this one.
IG:@memory.of.scents
The Smell of History
Ensar Oud, Oud Salahuddin.
I thought after Oud Ahmad, there was no more to surprise me. There cannot be an aromatic that boasts more complexity and sheer awe than Oud Ahmad. I was wrong. Oud Salahuddin was the key to unlocking a new olfactory realm. Can it go further than this?
This oil was distilled in 2001, next to two other legendary oils which I hold dear to my heart. Oud Sultani and Oud Ahmad. Sinking grade wood, but instead of using just Malaysian (Kelantan) Agarwood they decided to throw Cambodian into the pot, as well. The result is something that I cannot relate to any perfume, attar, or oud oil. It is its own beast. If I had to describe the smell in one word, it would be ANCIENT. The smell of an old castle chamber, an old library, old terracotta pots, or old musical instruments. I have a very old piano at home, maybe 80 years old. Sometimes I lean to smell its keyboard. It has a beautiful smell. I looked for many years to capture that scent in perfumes yet to no avail. Oud oils came closest but none as close as Oud Salahuddin. It also smells like red terracotta pots. Or old chambers inside a Medieval castle. Ancient. That is the overall feel this oil has upon smelling it. Its complexity and scent profile, however, go way beyond that if one spends time analyzing it. And it seems to change depending on how much I apply, and skin temperature. I would say it is akin more to Vietnamese oils than either Cambodi or Malay. Like a Red Vietnamese oil boasting that bitter-sweet, earthy medicinal aroma.
The opening is either an explosion of red powderiness or red incense smoke. When it is red powder it goes hand in hand with a slight golden honey sweetness and a vivid red terracotta pot smell. When it begins as a red smoky incense accord, it feels much darker, akin to Oud Ahmad. Most of the time, it starts as the red powdery terracotta smell, laced with faint pollen-honey-like sweetness, adjoined by a bitter and sharp green facet that feels like the jungle and earth being struck by the summer rain. Dusty almost, in texture. Green, red, earthy, and slightly sweet. Akin to the Vietnamese profile or old Cambodis. I can sense faint traces of Oud Ahmad and Kambodi 1976. The first part is bright red, like a landscape during daylight. As it progresses, it gets darker. The green hues turn brown and finally black. The blast of red powder shapes into a fine red incense smoke that tingles your nostrils. An incense stick, burning in a dark ancient chamber, its aroma permeating the room and throwing your mind into a limbo. I feel words cannot do justice to this oil. I only write this so that people can get a glimpse of what Oud Salahuddin can offer. It is an aromatic that, at this point, exceeds my power of putting into words what my nose tries so hard to decipher. Oud Ahmad is Ancient and Dark. Oud Salahuddin is Ancient and Wise. If I were to name this oil, I would have called it Confucius.
IG:@memory.of.scents
I thought after Oud Ahmad, there was no more to surprise me. There cannot be an aromatic that boasts more complexity and sheer awe than Oud Ahmad. I was wrong. Oud Salahuddin was the key to unlocking a new olfactory realm. Can it go further than this?
This oil was distilled in 2001, next to two other legendary oils which I hold dear to my heart. Oud Sultani and Oud Ahmad. Sinking grade wood, but instead of using just Malaysian (Kelantan) Agarwood they decided to throw Cambodian into the pot, as well. The result is something that I cannot relate to any perfume, attar, or oud oil. It is its own beast. If I had to describe the smell in one word, it would be ANCIENT. The smell of an old castle chamber, an old library, old terracotta pots, or old musical instruments. I have a very old piano at home, maybe 80 years old. Sometimes I lean to smell its keyboard. It has a beautiful smell. I looked for many years to capture that scent in perfumes yet to no avail. Oud oils came closest but none as close as Oud Salahuddin. It also smells like red terracotta pots. Or old chambers inside a Medieval castle. Ancient. That is the overall feel this oil has upon smelling it. Its complexity and scent profile, however, go way beyond that if one spends time analyzing it. And it seems to change depending on how much I apply, and skin temperature. I would say it is akin more to Vietnamese oils than either Cambodi or Malay. Like a Red Vietnamese oil boasting that bitter-sweet, earthy medicinal aroma.
The opening is either an explosion of red powderiness or red incense smoke. When it is red powder it goes hand in hand with a slight golden honey sweetness and a vivid red terracotta pot smell. When it begins as a red smoky incense accord, it feels much darker, akin to Oud Ahmad. Most of the time, it starts as the red powdery terracotta smell, laced with faint pollen-honey-like sweetness, adjoined by a bitter and sharp green facet that feels like the jungle and earth being struck by the summer rain. Dusty almost, in texture. Green, red, earthy, and slightly sweet. Akin to the Vietnamese profile or old Cambodis. I can sense faint traces of Oud Ahmad and Kambodi 1976. The first part is bright red, like a landscape during daylight. As it progresses, it gets darker. The green hues turn brown and finally black. The blast of red powder shapes into a fine red incense smoke that tingles your nostrils. An incense stick, burning in a dark ancient chamber, its aroma permeating the room and throwing your mind into a limbo. I feel words cannot do justice to this oil. I only write this so that people can get a glimpse of what Oud Salahuddin can offer. It is an aromatic that, at this point, exceeds my power of putting into words what my nose tries so hard to decipher. Oud Ahmad is Ancient and Dark. Oud Salahuddin is Ancient and Wise. If I were to name this oil, I would have called it Confucius.
IG:@memory.of.scents
Salty, Indolic Florals
Musc Tonkin from Parfum D'Empire.
I remember reading about this fragrance back in the day before experiencing real deer musk and searching for a perfume that was considered a good approximation by the community. Now, many years later, I don't see Musc Tonkin as a perfume that is supposed to be a rendition of that, but rather a floral-chypre perfume with a resinous touch, infused with a BIG animalic cocktail that does indeed instill the whole "Natural Deer Musk" feel to the composition. The accord does capture the scent of natural musk, at least to some extent, and certain facets of it. What you smell first, is the floral-chypre component and the resins, then the musk. I find it not as overtly musky as say, Musk Kublai Khan or even Musc Ravageur (to keep it in the synthetic/commercial territory), but it is just as dirty as the first, if not more. The blending is superb, hence, breaking it apart is difficult. There is a big floral component saturated in indoles and an earthy, mossy component warmed by resins. All this structure is infused with a generous cocktail of various synthetic musks, indoles, hyraceum, and ambergris, making the florals feel alive, almost drawing breath, fleshy, and sweating. There is a prominent saltiness and halitosis quality to the composition. That's how hard the base hits. It feels like sitting inside a forest glade full of flowers and animals. The perfume has a powerful vintage flair, and I can see average sniffers calling it an "old woman/man perfume". An odd to vintage floral chypres that were not ashamed of using the same heavy musks in their base to make them interesting and bigger than life.
IG:@memory.of.scents
I remember reading about this fragrance back in the day before experiencing real deer musk and searching for a perfume that was considered a good approximation by the community. Now, many years later, I don't see Musc Tonkin as a perfume that is supposed to be a rendition of that, but rather a floral-chypre perfume with a resinous touch, infused with a BIG animalic cocktail that does indeed instill the whole "Natural Deer Musk" feel to the composition. The accord does capture the scent of natural musk, at least to some extent, and certain facets of it. What you smell first, is the floral-chypre component and the resins, then the musk. I find it not as overtly musky as say, Musk Kublai Khan or even Musc Ravageur (to keep it in the synthetic/commercial territory), but it is just as dirty as the first, if not more. The blending is superb, hence, breaking it apart is difficult. There is a big floral component saturated in indoles and an earthy, mossy component warmed by resins. All this structure is infused with a generous cocktail of various synthetic musks, indoles, hyraceum, and ambergris, making the florals feel alive, almost drawing breath, fleshy, and sweating. There is a prominent saltiness and halitosis quality to the composition. That's how hard the base hits. It feels like sitting inside a forest glade full of flowers and animals. The perfume has a powerful vintage flair, and I can see average sniffers calling it an "old woman/man perfume". An odd to vintage floral chypres that were not ashamed of using the same heavy musks in their base to make them interesting and bigger than life.
IG:@memory.of.scents
Aged Chocolate Liquor
Oudh Lacquer from Soivohle. An amazingly complex cocoa-oud pairing that came way before that was considered trendy(Russian Oud, wink wink). I'm surprised no one talks about this brew, but I suppose it doesn't look good in flex pictures(as someone recently told me that they are only interested in acquiring perfumes that would look good in pictures, insert facepalm)
The blend itself is beyond masterful and clever. As the name suggests, the cocoa and the oud blend to create more of a chocolate liquor accord or cocoa/chocolate served with wine. Now, I do love Russian Oud, which showcases one of my favorite uses of cocoa in perfumery. This one takes a different approach, however, in blending the two materials. The Oud used here has more of an earthy, musty, antique smell as opposed to the Hindi profile that permeates Russian Oud. Oud here is dark, gloomy, and mysterious. And what better way to complement that profile than to add mushrooms, which naturally pair well with both cocoa and this type of oud? Take it a step further and suspend the entire formula in an aged tincture of oud and spices and you'll get an amazingly deep aroma. Intoxicating. She uses some floral notes as well to balance the composition, and the linden blossom accord shines more than the others to give a nice and unique touch of fresh sweetness. It feels almost honeyed and citrusy at the same time. Although it starts dusty, musty, and dank, it slowly morphs into this most inviting dessert of dark chocolate, wine, and spices, served on an old wooden table with some freshly cut linden blossoms sitting on the side. It is dark and earthy but smooth, inviting, and mysterious simultaneously. It feels like going into an old, dank cellar to choose your favorite chocolate liquor that has been aging away for decades, waiting to caress your palate. A charming composition for cocoa and oud lovers like myself.
IG:@memory.of.scents
The blend itself is beyond masterful and clever. As the name suggests, the cocoa and the oud blend to create more of a chocolate liquor accord or cocoa/chocolate served with wine. Now, I do love Russian Oud, which showcases one of my favorite uses of cocoa in perfumery. This one takes a different approach, however, in blending the two materials. The Oud used here has more of an earthy, musty, antique smell as opposed to the Hindi profile that permeates Russian Oud. Oud here is dark, gloomy, and mysterious. And what better way to complement that profile than to add mushrooms, which naturally pair well with both cocoa and this type of oud? Take it a step further and suspend the entire formula in an aged tincture of oud and spices and you'll get an amazingly deep aroma. Intoxicating. She uses some floral notes as well to balance the composition, and the linden blossom accord shines more than the others to give a nice and unique touch of fresh sweetness. It feels almost honeyed and citrusy at the same time. Although it starts dusty, musty, and dank, it slowly morphs into this most inviting dessert of dark chocolate, wine, and spices, served on an old wooden table with some freshly cut linden blossoms sitting on the side. It is dark and earthy but smooth, inviting, and mysterious simultaneously. It feels like going into an old, dank cellar to choose your favorite chocolate liquor that has been aging away for decades, waiting to caress your palate. A charming composition for cocoa and oud lovers like myself.
IG:@memory.of.scents
