i smell stuff

Nose: David Seth Moltz

Notes: greens, bergamot, pear; fig, coconut milk, iris; woods, tonka bean, moss

Debaser opens whip-sharp and very freshly green. A little like juicy green bell peppers. Intense chlorophyll zinginess.

Over the next hour it stays strongly green, but I do also get a whiff of slightly sweetened coconut milk.

At 1.5 hours, I'm beginning to get some light woods along with the greenness, and then a faint sense of shady darkness.

It was meant to be inspired by summer camp, sitting under the fig trees and listening to the Pixies on repeat, and that's a pretty accurate evocation of the scent: green, dappled shade, summer contentment, just sharp and synthetic enough to feel casual rather than precious. I had an art teacher in high school who liked indie punk bands and whose messy studio had that green-shady vibe in summer when the windows were open; Debaser would suit him.

Compared to other green fig scents I've tried, Debaser is the most basic and the most intensely green. Neela Vermeire Creations Ashoka is much more sandalwoody (and incense-y), while Bogue 10 is a complex swirl of different floral, animalic, and resinous notes along with the juicy green. Hermès Un Jardin en Mediteranée is a 50-50 blend of fig leaf and neroli, and L'Artisan Parfumeur Premier Figuier has a weird funky brown asafoetida base under the fig leaf. Debaser, by contrast, is 100% green juice, the whole way through. No fruit, very little sweetness, the barest suggestion of a woody base: just intense Fuck Yeah, Fig Leaf.

D.S. & Durga makes a lot of fragrances with unusual concepts, and a lot of them are cheap-smelling, overly synthetic, watery-faint disappointments; but not all. Debaser is a real perfume, albeit a modern, minimalist, lightweight one. I can actually smell it clearly, and it smells pretty damn good. (Well, it smells good to me, a known green-lover. To my husband, it smells like "who's chopping green peppers?" -- his least favorite vegetable.)

Nose: Hiram Green

Notes: narcissus, jasmine, ylang-ylang, nectar, floral notes, neroli, leather, tobacco, hay, resins

Ultra opens with delicious, floaty-swoony neroli and maybe even an orange blossom not listed in the notes. (or maybe that's the jasmine). It feels summery, breezy, light yellow, and almost but not quite sweet.

A few minutes in, it goes spicy and polleny for a moment, and I'm actually getting a bit of narcissus; a dense yellow scent, a little tender. But it's still doused in white-floral nectar.

It's not very narcissus-y, and I'm speaking as a hardcore narcissus lover. Narcissus is an early spring flower; it has the breathy tenderness of April, and a dense oily-spicy-musky polleny scent, unusually dark for a flower. Ultra has a bit of pollen, yes, but it feels very much like *summer* not spring. Swooning, nectarous, amorous hot-weather vibes, not tender fresh ingenue vibes.

The archetypal narcissus scent is Guerlain Chamade (1969), which sets off the pollen with sharp green galbanum and soft vanilla. I also love Bruno Fazzolari's Au Dela Narcisse and Roberto Greco Porter sa Peau (which bring out the musky-breathy-earthy side of narcissus), Masque Milano Romanza (which sets narcissus against a backdrop of moss and myrrh), Papillon Hera (a sort of modern Chamade which puts narcissus on a musky-vanillic base and blends it with a shimmering rainbow of flowers) and lots more.

Ultra smells like none of them. It actually has more in common with Hiram Green's other heady white florals, Moon Bloom (tuberose) and Dilettante (orange blossom). Like them, Ultra is quite lovely: just dense, pure, rich flower nectar, without distractions.

Sometimes I get an odd darker raspy tone that I'm not sure how to describe -- coppery? earthy? under the nectarous flowers. And there's a layer of soft fuzzy musk, not really animalic but maybe a bit like skin.

Nose: David Seth Moltz

Notes: mandarin, elemi, orange; grass, almond blossom, cedar; violet, vetiver

Steamed Rainbow really does smell like steam! And a little shimmer around it. Like the showers next to a swimming pool on a hot day. A little bit of a perfumey citrus breeze, and that distinctly misty/steamy synthetic note.

A few minutes in, I get something a little different: a prickle of green, something herbal, something gray. Feels like shade, damp, maybe grass poking up through wet concrete. Still backed up by a sparkle of sunny citrus.

Nose: Anatole Lebreton

Notes: fenugreek, rum, licorice, cinnamon; tobacco, cade oil, cypriol; benzoin, immortelle, vanilla

Tabaquero opens with deliciously sweet caramel-gold tobacco, rich with vanilla and brightened with something fresher. It's boozy, it's radiant, it's a lot of fun. There's a touch of licorice in there, but it's not excessive.

At about half an hour in, it gets drier and woodier; a little smoky and crackly under the golden syrupy tobacco.

Then the woody phase fades out and we're just back in that mellow golden glow.

Notes: tobacco, leather, rum, coffee, myrrh, immortelle, cacao, labdanum, tonka, licorice, fig, pepper, magnolia

Purpureum has a rather heavy amber-spice opening, and then something stony and airier underneath, like a Gothic-arched courtyard.

There's definitely a lot of coffee in there, dark-brown and sweetened with amber. And, yes, a faintly anisic purple tinge around the edges, but really it's more brown than purple.

I find it kind of boring? There are a lot of niche amber-spice potions out there. This genre can get a bit gloomy and oppressive, especially in the summertime. But on the plus side, Purpureum doesn't smell bad, and it has that interesting stony quality and a sort of weightless inner radiance.

In winter it would be much more appealing: a cozy, glowing, warming scent, with all the usual Oriental associations (spicy, warm, caramelized/woody). A sweet dark coffee with a shot of whiskey, enjoyed by the fireplace.

Nose: Anatole Lebreton

Notes: allspice, davana; cacao, oudh, clove, cypriol; ambrarome, civet, castoreum

Duende opens with a smooth, deep chocolate-amber chord. It feels a little waxy as well, and very rich, like dark chocolate ganache. The amber is ominous and darkly glowing, playing backup to the stronger chocolate note and keeping it from feeling too foody. Duende is clearly in the subcategory of "grown-up chocolate scents" that includes Pale Fire and Milano Caffe.

A few minutes in and the scent blends into a smooth dark smokiness -- the "chocolate" facet of oudh. It's creamy-smooth, like kohl or henna, and has a little bit of a rainy-day, muddy smell, as well as smokiness and dark chocolate aspects.

Nose: Andy Tauer

Notes: lemon, bergamot, clary sage; rosemary, orange blossom, lavender, neroli, rose; labdanum, cedar, vetiver, amber

Cologne du Maghreb opens with a punch of etrog (or citron), that ultra-pithy, bitter relative of the lemon. Not fresh but resinous, dry, like essential oils. There's a touch of dusty light wood underneath too. It makes me think of blazing sun and dancing dust motes.

It settles into a light, dry wood scent with a hint of resin and spice, and a little prickle of sharp lemon. Casual and maybe bohemian; reminds me slightly of Olympic Orchids Hamsa.

Nose: David Seth Moltz

Notes: citruses, bitter orange, musk, blood orange, ambrette, green notes, lemon, mandarin

Italian Citrus opens with mouthwatering bittersweet orange. Exactly like a chinotto soda, or Aperol spritz. It's quite faint and sheer even with pretty heavy application. There's some fuzzy, clean synthetic white musk under there too.

Nose: Louise Turner

Notes: pink pepper; peony, litchi, petalia; musk, white cedar extract, amber

Look, I can't even be ironic about it at this point: I just like tropical florals. Lust in Paradise is incredibly fun. It's floaty, it's swoony, it's fruity, it's hot pink bougainvillea shining in the clear blue air. Summer in a bottle. Strong enough to be very legible, just layered enough to hold my interest, with a little bit of an amber-musk base that feels cheerfully sexy. It's summer! It's party time!

Yes, it's the umpteenth release by a niche firm that swears it's not like all the other niche firms, and yes I'm sleep deprived and a little crazed right now, but I would swear Lust in Paradise is a gem. It's like Beyond Paradise but maybe even better? This is, in other words, what mainstream perfume *should* be, but isn't. It's normie fun, but it's *actually fun* as opposed to pennypinching weaksauce disappointment. It is, in fact, actual Lust, in motherfucking Paradise!

Nose: Euan McCall

Notes: fig, hazelnut, almond, cardamom; rice, malt, hay, violet leaf, mimosa, ylang-ylang; sandalwood, ambrette, musk, cedarwood

Unspoken Gesture opens with fuzzy white musks and what I initially thought was a buttered popcorn note, but soon resolves into hazelnut.

It's an unsweet hazelnut note, over lots of synthetic musks. Clean, fuzzy, radiant, and resolutely beige.

Nose: Liz Moores

Notes: orris, mimosa, cedar, osmathus, olibanum, champaca

Angelique opens with sparkling crisp citrus and then goes into a cloud of pillowy-soft iris fluff. Subtle, barely-there, but plush and dense, with a delicate citrusy-floral effect around the iris.

Nose: Luca Maffei

Notes: sea notes, ginger, ozonic notes, bergamot, pink pepper; olibanum, incense, cardamom, nutmeg, labdanum; clearwood, vetiver, guaiac, patchouli, birch, amber

Naples opens airy, floaty, and synthetic, and then acquires a veil of dry scratchy smoke. Sheer smoke, a hint of spice, and a vaguely aquatic note. It's better than it sounds; it does feel like a vacation in a fancy hotel, all sleek and modern.

Nose: Maksim Bortnikov

Notes: lychee, raspberry, chamomile, green accord, herbal notes; tobacco, ylang-ylang, cypriol, guaiac; Indian oudh, musk, oakmoss, benzoin, cedarwood, vanilla

Musk Couture opens deeply browned, liquored, and dense with furry musks, and then within minutes develops an odd raspberry syrup note. It feels a bit like the fruit-liqueur filling inside a chocolate.

Then it softens to something peachy and fuzzy and extremely sweet. I don't know quite how to say this: the sugary sweetness and musky softness produce an overwhelming effect. Sexy, to the point of vulgar. Mae West. Burlesque shows. We've gone honky-tonkin' all night long and ended up in the cathouse.

Under the fruity syrup, I can now feel a bunch of twangy brown tobacco coming to the fore. It blends smoothly with the fuzzy musks and sugary white sweetness, leaving an overall sweet/fuzzy/brown aura with an overripe or raunchy vibe.

This is a truly wacky choice. Maksim Bortnikov is clearly going for a serious, elite, and rather masculine aesthetic; but here he's giving his usual luxe, dense treatment to an insanely trashy, and quite femme, sugar/fruit/musk concoction.

Nose: Tomas Hempel

notes: immortelle, bergamot; pine, ozonic notes, fig leaf; sugar, smoke, malt, cypriol, vetiver

Mistpouffer goes on with a familiar, sheer aura of greenness and smoke.

I get the fresh juicy green of fig leaf, as well as a drier and possibly coniferous green; the whole thing is satisfyingly squeaky-clean and rather faint.

A few minutes in, I get a raincloud scent, suddenly damp and dark gray, and then the beginnings of smoke. There's also very quick glimpses of a caramelized sugar note.

Soon, at about the 15-minute mark, the smoke overtakes the leafy greens, and we have a rather sheer, gray smoke scent with a rainy-day vibe. It's a bit of a niche trope; it feels hipster-stylish and also quite familiar. Pleasantly moody.

And then at 25 minutes in we hit something sour -- an oddly realistic rendition of sticky stale beer spilled on the floor. this must be the "malt" note. It's bizarre. Why are we doing this? Who could possibly be the target market for a beer perfume?

Nose: Manuel Cross

Notes: tuberose, coconut milk, pomelo, sandalwood, white rose, musk

Champs Lunaires opens with a bell-clear, rather fruity tuberose. In a few minutes, it broadens, grows creamy and almost coconutty, and also acquires a clean salty musk base.

It's luxurious, smooth, bright, and clean. A satisfying, real-deal tuberose, poised somewhere between the "hot pink" fruity type (like Fracas) and the "white" creamy-coconutty type (like Carnal Flower).

A few minutes more, and a sweet pink-grapefruit note sends it more in the "hot pink" direction, though it still retains a soft aura of coconut milk and white musk.

Nose: Antonio Gardoni

Notes: fir, black pepper, bay leaf, nutmeg, bergamot, neroli; champaca, geranium, rose, ylang-ylang, osmanthus, jasmine; resins, leather, cade, incense, civet, cedar, patchouli, sandalwood, vanilla

T. Rex opens intensely caramelized and deep brown, then smoky, then waxy-balmy with delicious ornate florals, and then smoky again, like a bonfire among flowers. Strong Indian-wedding vibes.

There's a *lot* of ylang-ylang, and it's lush, tropical, and quite rubbery. Golden and breathy, backed up with resins.

Then the smoke and resins strengthen, the color darkens from gold to toffee and copper, and we've got caramelized smoky flowers, or spicy floral incense. It's very strong, but I find it beautiful. It's like Gardoni's other incense scent, Lita, with a heavy dose of floral nectar mixed in. Lots of champaca and ylang, lots of humid, heavy, tropical floralcy. Basically this is the most epic nag champa incense ever.

(Does it smell like barbecue? Sure, I guess, if you don't know what nag champa incense smells like. To me it's *really* photorealistic incense. The good kind -- sweet and spicy and floral. )

Over the first hour the florals recede slightly and the smokiness strengthens. The tangy, bright-brown incense also turns a bit sharper, more pine-sappy and resinous. By the 1-hour mark, T-Rex is distinctly a conifer-resin and smoke scent; still very strong and fierce, reddish-brown and the perfect balance of sweet and bracingly turpentiney.

By 1.5-2 hours, T. Rex is finally starting to dry out and calm down a little; less reddish amber-resin, more crackly golden incense and woods. (Sandalwood?) It's still quite rich and warm, though, with a lovely golden radiance. And sometimes the pine-sap note comes back and makes it glow red-gold.

In the third hour, a cooling, medicinal, almost Tiger-Balm-y note comes to the fore. It's still woody and resinous, but now there's a dark-green herbal touch to it. Conifer rosin, deep red-brown woods, and that herbal potion.

Nose: Maksim Bortnikov

Notes: cardamom, clove leaf, bergamot; gurjan balsam, cinnamon, green tea, vetiver, ylang-ylang; Thailand oudh, tolu balsam, Peru balsam, copaiba balm, labdanum, ambergris

Amber Balsam opens with the softest, warmest resins imaginable, and then goes into a tangy pine-sap scent, still rich with amber and thick with musks, but not very sweet. It's an exceptionally luxurious take on a conifer resinous scent, reddish brown and bracing but always plush and soft.

It's kind of the elegant version of "barbecue-y", piney scents like Le Labo Patchouli 24, or Hiram Green Hyde, or Zoologist T. Rex; but all of those have sort of a modern/indie aesthetic, while Amber Balsam is classical and luxe.

Gradually it fades into a rather somber, deep brown, creamy oudh, somewhat like the oudh in Oud Indochine. Smooth and civilized, totally mellow, it's all soft woody density and depth (with none of the funky/stinky notes that sometimes show up in oudh.)