Keiko Mecheri’s rendition of the patchouli theme is significantly different from other niche houses’ offerings: it is dominated by clean musks and flowers, which almost take away from its patchoulesque cleanliness and woody dryness. Far more complex than others in its genre – if blind-tested, you’d probably place it elsewhere – in the floral powdery family, perhaps.
Resinous chocolate milk filled with oozing caramel, on a pretense of being bittersweet… Only saving point is its dusty cocoa powdery note, and an underlying masculine-oriented notes of tobacco and some synthetic musks.
Here is the thing with evolving taste and being exposed to so much more: it takes away from the pleasure that “beginner’s luck” brings. I remember liking Borneo a lot and finding more patchouli in it when I first smelled it. It was this unabashed, shamelessly patchouli scent. But now it feels as if there is not enough patchouli in it….
Jo Malone's newish "Cologne Intense" collection came out in August 2010, in noir bottles, of course. Although the names are the usual Jo Malone formula (One Ingredient & Another Cologne), they are concentrated around heavier scents and are not nearly as "British" and scrubbed-clean as under Jo Malone's artistic direction (the company was sold to Estee Lauder, and ever since then there were a few uncharacteristic scents that came to play, at times interesting - such as Sweet Lime & Cedar or Blue Agave & Cacao; and at other times just very pretentious, as if trying to keep up with the "Niche look" headed by Tom Ford and the like. Meaning - that everything has to be "Noir" this or "Noir" that and have a heavy dose of patchouli or synthetic oud and amber - which has come to be represent with "luxury". In reality, these are pale imitations of what the true raw materials would smell like, thinned out (or completely replaced, whenever possible) by their synthetic imitations.
Patchouli & Amber is no exception. It brings nothing new to the table (except for being the first and only patchouli offering under the Jo Malone brand) and it is paired with crowd-pleasing amber, which dominates it in a similar manner Prada’s eponymous scent does. It doesn’t hurt anyone to have a god amber scent around; but it by no means provide anything new and interesting (which Dark Amber & Ginger Lily already did). From a curator’s point of view – it’s really quite pointless. But I’m sure the accounting department would be in favour of such a scent.
Patchouli & Amber has all the usual suspects: Overdose of thin, caramel-like benzoin with hints of dark Indonesian or Indian patchouli, an under-dose of resinous Spanish labdanum. It’s as disappointing as Prada as far as representing patchouli goes. And the amber is nothing interesting either. Very pleasant and easy to wear – yes; but interesting? No. There is really very little to write home about, and the only reason I’m writing about is because of the patchouli theme that’s been lingering in SmellyBlog’s quarters. My favourite from these "Cologne Intense" bunch remains Rosewater & Vanilla (which I will write about at another time).
Initially, I picked to review this perfume because it's in my "patchouli file". But after repeated applications, and especially after reviewing the other patchouli fragrances, I'm discovering it's on the very other end of the patchouli spectrum, where light, amber and sheer plastic flowers meet for a little public display of affection.
Prada opens a little more floral than expected. Not any particular floral, but more of the floral top notes that amber accords tends to have: the lilac-and-epoxy-glue symphony from liquidambar (aka styrax) and an overall sheer, crystalline effect. If there is any patchouli in there it's completely secondary. The resins are taking centre stage, and while they are sweet, they also have a certain transparency about them that is more woody than foody. It has a simple, flat personality from an overdoze of benzoin (a caramal-like resin that has an understated, powdery yet lasting effect), and peru balsam (which is a thinner and flatter vanilla, with hints of woods). The patchouli has only a balancing act: contributing dryness counterpoint like a throaty red wine with vanilla poached pear. It whispers, never shouts. It gives the vanilla way too much elbow room and as a result the perfume feels very flat - a flat amber accord with dry nuances from patchouli.
The vanilla intensifies over time and becomes a little syrupy only half an hour in. I really wish there was more dry presence to make it ever so slightly less ambery. Prada's other flankers might be more intriguing in that regard (especially the Ambre Pour Homme Intense), but still - it's very decidedly agreeable, which comes at the expense of intrigue or mischief. It smells extremely similar to Dior Addict's vinyl and pleather vanilla theme; and very much like Notorious, just less aquatic and without that dusting of cocoa.
There is no shortage of amber scents in the world in 2004, when Prada debuted, and although I can't pretend it's groundbreaking and I've never even managed to get through half of my 2ml sample - there was certainly refreshing to observe its commercial success despite the fact that it was neither a nondescript floral nor a foody fruity floral. And a lot of others followed with patchouli-centered fragrances, which quickly turned into the much dreaded (though still better than the previous) "fruitchoulis" - those faux "chypre" compositions that juxtapose the mass appeal of candy and fruit notes with an ever so slightly sophisticated scent of natural patchouli and perhaps a few other surprises that none of us would ever sign up for (watery notes, anyone?), such as Black Orchid (Tom Ford), Notorioius (Ralph Lauren) and more.
I find the abundance of flankers from this label confusing at best, but I shall try the Prada Intense to see if it's more patchouli-centered (and hopefully also more to my liking).
