Byredo
Encens Chembur:
Meant
to evoke a sunny afternoon in the Mumbai neighborhood it’s named for, Encens Chembur (formerly sold as just Chembur) brings me instead back to my
parents’ upstairs den in Texas where, at a small makeshift altar, my mother lit
pungent yellow incense sticks between plates of fruit in offering to the Buddha
and our ancestors.
But
that unexpected olfactory flashback only occurred a few hours after
application, and thankfully, Jerome Epinette (author of almost all the Byredo
scents, including the excellent Sunday
Cologne, née Fantastic Man, as well as three of the Atelier Colognes)
crafted some exquisite layers through which the incense emerges: golden lemon
and bergamot, sharpened even more by piney elemi resin, and a warm, vibrant
pairing of nutmeg and ginger. The ambery drydown is warmer still, with a
quietly comforting labdanum note and very soft musk. There’s not much sillage
on my skin, but it’s beautiful enough as a close-wearing scent and has very
decent longevity.
Olivier
Durbano Citrine
Paris-based
perfumer/jeweler Olivier Durbano has named all of the perfumes in his
collection after gemstones, with each fragrance designed to match the symbolic
identities of the stones. His seventh, Citrine,
is named for the gold-to-amber-colored quartz variety that is traditionally
thought to absorb and dissipate negative energies. The press materials that accompanied Citrine’s release this fall included
words and phrases like “pure joy,” “inner fire” and “glowing celestial energy.”
Okay,
sure. Citrine, at least for the first hour or so, certainly has some ‘glow’ to
its sweet citrus opening and warm woody heart. But the note list (which has a number of commonalities
with Encens Chembur, interestingly
enough) makes a lot of promises that, on me at least, the juice doesn’t keep.
The ‘ginger’ has no zing; the elemi has had all its teeth removed; and the
spiciness of carrot seed is frankly nowhere to be found. Beeswax, amber and
musk make the drydown quite comfortable, even luxurious, but not much more than
that.
This
is the first of Durbano’s fragrances I’ve tried and I had high hopes for it,
given the relentlessly positive things I’ve read about Black Tourmaline and about the quality of his perfumes in general. If
you can’t tell, I’m unconvinced -- especially
at $190 for 100 ml.
Huitième
Art Parfums Myrrhiad
Far
more than just a clever portmanteau, Pierre Guillaume’s take on myrrh is easily
the most accomplished of these three and one of my favorite fall releases. The
Huitième Art perfumes (a separate line from his signature Parfumerie Generale
line) aren’t constructed as traditional perfume ‘pyramids,’ which are designed
around the different evaporation rates of the various raw materials. Instead, they
are explicitly linear, exceptionally well-blended compositions with very few
components.
In
the case of Myrrhiad, the starring
note is accompanied by just three others: black tea absolute, licorice and
vanilla. The black tea contributes a beautiful smokiness that alludes to the
practice of burning myrrh, like incense, as a spiritual offering (for an
excellent discussion of this perfume’s symbolic intention, see this piece on Grain de Musc); the licorice adds just
the right amount of anisic sweetness to the bitter myrrh, and also turns a bit
leathery; and the understated vanilla gives depth to the entire composition.
The
aspect I find most refreshing and enjoyable, however, is what Guillaume left
out. I love that I don’t have to endure 15 minutes of boring citrus top notes
to get to the interesting part, and I love how interesting this scent can be
with just four notes.
Encens Chembur is $220 for 100 ml at
Barneys, or $145 for 50 ml directly from Byredo. Citrine is $190 for 100 ml, available at Luckyscent. Myrrhiad is $135 for 50 ml, also at
Luckyscent.
