Montale Black Aoud Review

 Montale's Black Aoud is a really simple and linear fragrance. Upon initial spray, you get Montale's and Mancera's signature oud note. It doesn't smell like the Western oud notes which you'd smell in offerings from Tom Ford, Dior, Versace, and so on. Rather, it's a bitter, musky, and petrol tinged note which is dark and pungent. It's paired with a dark, opulent, and almost boozy rose note, which is what actually dominates the fragrance. As it dries down, patchouli gives it some earthiness. I feel like I get incense out of it, though that could be because it reminds me of bakhoor.

Performance is insane. The fragrance projects for 8 or 9 hours. I can't even clock the longevity since I've never waited for it to just disappear before taking a shower. If you get this on your clothes, it will last for months, and persist over a few laundry cycles. In one instance, one of my shirts actually made all my other laundry in the same machine faintly smell of Black Aoud. None of this is an exaggeration either.

Black Aoud is not necessarily unique; although it was somewhat forward for a Western marketed fragrance. It was released a few years after M7, but a few years before the oud craze really hit the Western luxury markets. It's very synthetic, and some might find it obnoxious (I think that's one of its charms). It also doesn't smell like it's better composed, more natural, or made of better materials, than cheaper fragrances from houses like Nabeel, Al Rehab, Swiss Arabian, Rasasi, Lattafa, and the like.

Yet despite its simplicity and fairly generic scent profile, Black Aoud still stands out from all the others, and it has an addictive quality to it. This is one of my all time favorite fragrances, and about as close as I get to having a signature scent.

Montale Cuir d'Arabie Review

Well, I finally found a fragrance which even I don't think I'd wear in public... at least for the first half hour after application anyway. "Fecal" is a common adjective for fragrances which contain notes like oud, jasmine, or some animalic and musky notes (and yes, I know using a word like "fecal" at the start of the second sentence is alarming). I generally take those descriptions with a grain of salt. While I do pick up on what people mean, I won't mistake those notes for actual feces. This is not the case with Montale's Aoud Cuir d'Arabie. When I first sprayed it on, I immediately said "what the fuck, are you shitting me?" It smells like shit... literally. It's like you accidentally stepped in something outside, and decided to throw out those shoes because there's no fucking way you're going to be able to clean off the substance which could have only been shat out by Cerberus after he escaped from the Underworld because Hades didn't close the door while taking out the garbage in the evening. It's putrid enough to have made me feel like running to the sink to scrub this shit off.

But I decided to wait. I wasn't going outside, so it's not like anyone will be smelling it anyway. Plus, fuck me if I'm not getting at least one full wearing out of something I bought. Anyway, I just needed to keep my wrist as far away from my nose as possible so I wouldn't be getting wafts of manure until I decided to see if it develops after a while. At least until my mind would say to myself "you're exaggerating, it doesn't really smell like shit. Don't wait, smell your arm again, it's ok." At which point I would sniff it again and be reminded that, yes, it does indeed smell like shit; and then I'm back to keeping my arm at, uh, arm distance. And my brain would start laughing. I could ask if my senses inform my cognition, or if my cognition informs my senses, but I'm not getting into that empiricism vs rationalism shit (no pun intended). Decartes and Locke would be very disappointed in me (I think Locke and Hume would actually chuckle shamefully, they seem like they were fun guys).

Anyhoo, after about 15 or 20 minutes from application, that shitty smell thankfully started to subside. The fragrance began turning into something much more wearable. Consequently, this review will henceforth be far less vulgar - probably still vulgar as shit, because that's just how I roll, but less so. Take the signature Montale oud note - a petrol and leather tinged woody note which dominates half of their fragrances (and Mancera's fragrances too... I guess they must have vats full of this stuff and are constantly churning out new fragrances every other day in order to figure out what to do with all those buckets of oud). Add more animalic leather and a bit of birch-like smokiness. Within about half an hour after application, you're just left with those notes, and the shit is totally gone. The fragrance doesn't change at all after that and remains mostly linear. In the far drydown, there's maybe a hint of soapiness you'd get in some old-school leather fragrances like Kouros, Bogart, Paco Rabanne, Quorum, and the like.

Performance is actually tame for a Montale fragrance. Yes, it's strong, but it's not as brash or obscene as I was expecting. It does project obnoxiously for an hour or so. It wouldn't deserve the "Montale Aoud ____" name if it started off with class rather than ass. This isn't Hermès (though they are kind of trashy nowadays). It also would have been absurd for me to wax poetic about how it smelled like the neighborhood after Fluffums had eaten a bad can of Puppy Chow and unleashed his fury. But it does start to sit close to the skin after the first hour. The longevity, however, is 10+ hours.

Overall, it is an interesting scent precisely because it is closer to an old world tannery, or the smell of goat skin on a darbouka (don't sniff it... trust me), than the traditional leather notes. That's admittedly ballsy of Montale (or shitty). Regardless, it takes a lot for me to think something is unwearable. I may hate some fragrances because they are too harsh, generic, juvenile, or sickeningly sweet, but I won't necessarily think they cannot be worn in public. I mean, I'll call One Million shit (not literally...), but if you wear it? Not much of a problem with me... depending on my mood. Likewise with musky, animalic, and sweaty fragrances which smell like you're about to collapse because you're dehydrated and worn out from fucking someone for 10 hours straight (if it was just by yourself, kudos... and good luck with the pain). Vintage Kouros? I had no problem killing off a decant of it, even though it's definitely more animalic than the current version. Even something like Neandertal Dark, a somewhat avant-garde scent which sort of smells like a cross between an urban fire, burning rocks, and dust clouds at a construction site, is perfectly wearable for me. I'm even still curious to try Secretions Magnifiques, since it doesn't really sound that bad. 

But the opening of Aoud Cuir d'Arabie made me throw my hands up and just shout out "nope" (as in the slang verb, not what you'd find in the Oxford Dictionary... I don't think?). It was finally something that even I wouldn't wear in public and wouldn't want to smell on myself. I wonder how many other people would too? Otherwise, why would the COVID toilet paper shortage have been such a big deal?

But the rest of the fragrance is actually good. It's not amazing. Aside from the topnotes, it's not a creative or unique fragrance either. It's like an afterthought from the house done by taking a few basenotes common in their other fragrances, and it seems pointless. There are much better leather fragrances out there. For the Montale oud note, I'll always prefer to reach for Black Aoud over this one; although I guess that's not fair since Black Aoud is one of my all time favorite fragrances, and probably as close to a signature scent as I'll get. But if you're looking for a leather and oud fragrance with an animalic edge, and you can tolerate 20 or 30 minutes of smelling like the noxious fumes emanating from a gas station shitter which had been condemned by NATO, this could be a good choice.

.... shit.

Acqua di Parma - Colonia Intensa review

 The name of the fragrance, and many reviewers treating it as another neroli-based cologne, are misleading. When I first tried this, I remember being really taken aback at how different it was from other fragrances to which it is compared. This is more of a fresh, spicy, leather fragrance than a citrus and neroli centered cologne.

Like other fragrances in Acqua di Parma’s Colonia line, Colonia Intensa does indeed feature beautiful citrus notes and neroli. Where this one differs, however, is that it’s more aromatic. Right from the very opening of the fragrance, I immediately get cardamom and ginger – both of which are spicy, warm, yet bracing and fresh. The latter aspects stand out more due to being buttressed by citrus and neroli which serve more so as background players. As the fragrance dries down, the soapy, eau de cologne style really dissipates. It becomes a light and gentle leather fragrance. It is also resinous, and the myrrh note is photorealistic. It smells like a cross between the myrrh plant and the raw resins. The leather is buttery, opulent, and clean. Surprisingly, it actually feels more closely related to Bel Ami than to the other fragrances in the Colonia line.

Despite the name Intensa, this isn’t a particularly intense fragrance. Longevity averages around 6ish hours. It does project well for a couple of hours before becoming a warm skin scent.

Acqua di Parma - Mirto di Panarea review

 Following the thematic scheme of Acqua di Parma’s Blu Mediterraneo line, Mirto di Panarea focuses on the myrtle note. If you’ve never smelled myrtle before, it’s a green, fresh, slightly sweet plant which is esteemed for its beautiful aroma throughout the Mediterranean.

Of the different fragrances in the Blu Meditteraneo line, Mirto di Panarea probably fits in best with the neroli theme in the Colonia line. The myrtle note is dry, bitter, and soapy – not unlike some renditions of neroli or petitgrain, albeit without the orange undertones. Lemon is paired with the myrtle at the start of the fragrance, though it dissipates after 20 minutes or so.

Fragrantica lists a few notes for Mirto di Panarea, but I don’t really get most of them, except for jasmine being the clearest to my nose. This is mostly myrtle throughout the entire duration of the scent, with some slight nondescript floral and woody notes buttressing the myrtle. It smells like an artisanal bar of soap – clean, sophisticated, yet casual and relaxed.

Longevity is surprisingly decent. I can get wafts of this for around 7 hours. It does project well for a couple of hours before sitting close to the skin.

Acqua di Parma - Arancia di Capri review

 This is part of Acqua di Parma’s Blu Mediterraneo line. The line is thematically evocative of the Mediterranean, focusing on notes common in the region. They’re usually simple and minimalistic fragrances which emphasize the note in the title. As such, Arancia di Capri is focused on arancia, or oranges.

When you first spray it on, you get a dry mandarin note, kind of similar to Mandarino di Amalfi. It sweetens a little as it begins to dry down, but it still stays predominantly orange based. Some white musk amplifies the scent, though it isn’t a very dominant note. A bit of orange blossom adds some dry soapiness in the drydown as well. That’s basically the whole fragrance.

The fragrance makes me picture the sun beating down from the clear sky on a hot summer day. The way the smell of sweaty skin would amplify the orange and the musk, while mixing with the salty air of the sea or ocean, might not sound appealing to some. However, it sounds magical to me, and makes me eagerly await the summer.

Longevity is 4 or 5 hours, which is surprisingly good. It projects well for maybe half an hour, but it sits closer to the skin for the rest of its duration. It’s a gentle, refreshing, casual fragrance.