So Montale Walks Into a Tiki Bar: Chypré Fruité, Mango Manga and Vanille Absolu

By Donna The house of Montale is so well known for its arsenal of oud-heavy fragrances that some of their other offerings don't get much attention. They don't always get it right when they stray too far from their tried and true formula of oud, roses, spices and woods, but many of their other fragrances are really very good, although they are rarely subtle. Let it be said that I love their approach to fragrance marketing; it's go big or go home with them, no shy or delicate perfumes (or timid customers) need apply. Chypré Fruité has been around for a while, but it's not one that gets talked about very much. It should be, because it's not one of the sillage monsters of the line. I was expecting something brash and maybe a little crude before I first smelled it, but it's very civilized and far less obvious than Badgley Mischka, which I love and think of as the gold standard for modern fruity chypres. It does go on with an emphatic fruity beginning, but it's well embedded in a structure of bergamot, white florals, rose, moss, and patchouli. Including “tropical” fruit notes in a chypre scent could easily translate into disaster, but this works nicely. I can't say exactly which fruits are implied here; it's an abstract mélange of the kind of ideas that are usually found in the Escada annual summer launches, but with a spine this time. With some Montales, one spritz or dab is more than enough, but I can spray myself down liberally with Chypré Fruité and still go out in public. (Truth be told, I would not mind at all if it were a little more assertive, but I have Badgley Mischka for that.) After a couple of hours it settles in as a musky skin scent that lasts for hours and reveals a balmy warmth once the fruits finally fade away. The rather strange Mango Manga is a 2010 launch that takes the fruity theme to the next level with a weird and wonderful mango reconstruction that has some of the raspiness you get when you eat a fresh mango and it stings your lips a little bit; did you know that mangoes are in the same family as poison ivy and other plants with irritating chemicals in their leaves and fruits? I think that little tingle is part of the reason I love mango so much. (Anyone who knows me well is aware that I am virtually obsessed with all things mango, edible or not.) Mango Manga has that plus the peculiar sweetness of mango and a damp, rubbery undertone that really brings to mind tropical jungle undergrowth, steamy and close. It's probably a deal-breaker for a lot of people, but I can't get enough of this oddball of a perfume. It smells like a Malaysian rubber tree plantation, or somebody's basement party room in the early Sixties with fake vinyl palm trees, music by The Ventures on the sound system, and both umbrella drinks and polyester Hawaiian shirts flowing freely. If I had a bottle of this, I would douse myself with it liberally on hot days, then put on a gaudily printed sundress and go stick my feet in an inflatable kiddie pool for the perfect summer experience. One of Montale's stalwarts is Vanille Absolu, a heavy, boozy vanilla scent with a touch of woods and spice. I say a touch, because this is one of the most unapologetically vanilla-centric perfumes I have ever smelled, on a par with the offerings of Comptoir Sud Pacifique. It really doesn't matter what else might be in here, because it's all about the rich, dark vanilla, foody indeed, yet it's apparent that the materials are of the best quality. If it smells a lot like a freshly opened bottle of vanilla extract at first, well, it's the best vanilla extract around. There is also a distinct whiff of Captain Morgan® spiced rum because of the cinnamon and clove, and the sensory link between dark rums made from molasses and the aromatic compounds in vanilla is made clear. This type of fragrance could have been trashy and tiresome in the wrong hands, but thankfully it is an excellent composition that has legendary longevity and dries down to a creamy sweetness that's well-nigh irresistible. Of course, after a while you might end up mysteriously craving one of Trader Vic's® rum cocktails. Don't say I didn't warn you. Montale perfumes are available at selected boutiques and department stores. Online, Chypré Fruité and Vanille Absolu are available at Luckyscent, while Mango Manga can be found at Parfums Raffy along with others in the line. Image credit: Tropical cocktails wallpaper from wallcoo.net Disclosure: The perfumes reviewed in this blog post are from my own collection and from samples traded with friends.

A Diverse Trio of Montale Roses: Highness Rose, Roses Elixir & Taif Roses

By Donna The house of Parfums Montale is well known for its use of rose and oud in perfumes, both separately and together, and sometimes I think the very popular oud scents overshadow its excellent treatment of roses. Some of their most outstanding fragrances are based on the many different styles of rose, and recently I have had the opportunity to try some of them that were not in my local shop. This reinforced my already high opinion of the house, and if anyone is looking for a fine rose perfume for their collection, Montale is a great resource. Highness Rose is a bit of a departure for Montale as it is a fresh, uncluttered rose soliflore with none of the expected embellishments so familiar to Montale fans. Dewy and a little green yet with a deeply honeyed quality, it is probably the most “innocent” fragrance from this house I have ever smelled. Rich yes, but pleasingly unadorned in order to let the qualities of the rose shine through, and it is obvious that this house is really using the good stuff in its rose scents. Highness Rose is one of the few fragrances from Montale, known for its over-the-top signature style, which can actually be worn in public in amounts larger than a single discreet dab. It’s the kind of rose fragrance that is very much at ease anywhere, even in hot weather where a sweeter one might get too heady. The slightly green aspect reminds me a little of another of my favorite rose soliflores, DSH Perfumes Rose Vert, but Highness rose takes the rosy part to the next level, as it is virtually nothing but roses, roses and more roses, as though they could not stuff enough of the blossoms into the perfume. The catch, of course, is that Highness Rose is in the Montale Confidential Collection and only available in their Paris boutiques, for about $900 USD for the large size, so I don’t expect to get a bottle anytime soon. If you have the chance to get a sample, please do so, because this is not a candidate for an un-sniffed purchase, no matter how good it is – and very good in this instance is an understatement. On the other end of the range is the recently released Roses Elixir, a sweet confection of roses with a deliciously jammy strawberry, citrus, orange blossom, amber, musk and vanilla. I had eagerly wanted to try it since I am one of the apparently rare people who enjoy strawberry in perfumes, although I know it is a note that suffers a lot of abuse at the hands of perfumers making mainstream fragrances for the American teenager demographic. I once owned a delightful strawberry “soliflore” perfume from Fragonard that I dearly loved that was not an unfortunate and plasticky mistake like most of the breed, and I have been looking for another like it to no avail. Roses Elixir is not a replacement for the Fragonard since is very sweet, but not quite to the level of Montale’s tooth-revolving Mukhallat, which along with Chocolate Greedy is a rare Montale I cannot tolerate. It is also relatively linear and does not change a lot on my skin over time except for the gradual domination of the vanilla and amber base over the strawberry, or maybe it’s just getting even sweeter on my sugar-enhancing skin. It ends up being a comfort scent, hazy and warm and undemanding and I think it’s wonderful, although I can’t think of too many occasions for actually wearing it, since this is not a workplace perfume by any means. I have several perfumes that I mainly wear around the house when I am alone because they are too powerful for most social situations, but since I love them anyway I keep them just for my own pleasure. Roses Elixir would be in that category if I could ever justify buying a bottle, which would be much more affordable than Highness Rose at $115 for 50 ml. It can be found in the U.S. online at Luckyscent and finer stores that carry the line. Yet another style of rose composition that is strikingly different from either of the other two is Taif Roses, a dry and exotic “desert rose” that is more akin to Montale’s core aesthetic so familiar to its ardent fans. It reminds me of a very upscale take on the old Ultima II Maroc, which I loved back in the day; it was a highly pitched and effusive rose of neon intensity, and if you did not like rose perfumes, well that was just too bad, because it broadcast itself far and wide with only a light spray. I still miss it, but I would be more than happy to own a bottle of Taif Roses instead. It is another one without any oud, but it has some of the oomph of Aoud Queen Rose, Aoud Damascus and Aoud Roses Petales, due to the use of the pungent geranium which gives it a lot of “throw.” There is an unusual farina-like note in this that I quite like and I don’t know what it’s from, but it is very pleasant and it provides a contrast to the sharpness of the rose/geranium complex. The rose character is pure Damask in the manner of its namesake Ta’if roses in Arabia. This perfume skirts the edge of having too much geranium for my taste when it first goes on, in the manner of the old Tea Rose by Perfumer’s Workshop, but it is grounded enough that’s it’s not too thin and it settles and smoothes out nicely after a short time. I don’t get a lot of civet, if any, until I have worn it for several hours, but I do detect a subtle ambery note in the base that keeps the fragrance from being too sharp. It seems to have been dropped from the line, but I was able to find it on several discounter sites for not much more than $100, which is a bargain for this niche brand. Montale has taken a lot of flak for making too many similar perfumes, but at least they are making good ones that people like. How can you go wrong with a high quality rose perfume anyway? It’s kind of like complaining that Entenmann’s makes too many kinds of delicious breakfast pastries. I guess if I were not a fan of rose, oud, vanilla, sweet fruit notes or the other main ingredients in their fragrances I could find something to criticize, but what can I say, I love these big, rich luscious perfumes, and as long as they keep them coming all I can do is enjoy the show. Image credit: Pink cake with sugar roses from cakesforwedding.net, original source unknown. Disclosure: The samples of Montale perfumes were all gifts from fellow perfume lovers.

Roses Musk by Montale

By Tom I blame Kelley for this one; he was the person who turned me on to Montale back in the day. Most people know Montale as the house that Aoud built, They are deservedly well known for playing the note like a fine instrument, having done so long before everyone decided that the note was this years fruity-floral. I have and love several of them. This might have to join them. Aoud isn't listed as one of the notes, nor is ambergris, so perhaps it's Montale's special blend of musks that give the roses that salty skin bite. The roses are lovely; ripe smelling as if they were just opening to the warm summer sun, the dew still on the petals. These aren't blowsy, big roses; it smells to me like sunbathing in the garden. It's something I would in real life would never do, but it's very nice to have a scent substitute. $140 for 50ML at LuckyScent, from whom I got the sample.

On a Scale of One to Ten: Random Choices

By Tom Well, today I did the Mall. It's the weekend after Black Friday so I thought it wouldn't be too crazy, and since Judith Brockless at Basenotes wrote a fun piece about pink perfumes in general and Givenchy Play in particular I thought I would drop into the Sephora at the Beverly Center to see how bad it could be. Pretty bad. It's not just that it's another too sweet juice-by-committee. It's not just the pink faux iPod-looking packaging manages to look cheap, stupid and yet severely dated, like a balding 45 year old trying to rock 7 jeans, Uggs and an Ed Hardy trucker cap. It's not even that there's an even worse version called "Play Intense for Her" that dials it up to 12. It's the degradation of the Givenchy name. This crap takes the whole Givenchy ethos, sets it on fire then pees on the ashes. Sad. ScentBar had the newest Montale, Aoud Musk, which manages to smell shockingly close to Nasomatto Duro. Really, it's almost a clone. This would be a scandal were it not for the fact that Aoud Musk is both cheaper and readily available (Duro isn't on the website anymore). I suppose the big news is that Knize Ten is now available and selling very well. I already have a bottle and could compare the old and the new, and there's no difference at all. Which is a great thing: the plummy leather Marina wrote of as "her favorite leather scent in general" and I concur. It's one of my favorites as well: it's a butt-kicking leather with a hint of stewed fruits, tangy citrus opening and vanilla finish. For those of you in mourning over the reformulation Tabac Blonde went through, this one should be on your list. The Givenchys are $68 for 1.7 oz at Sephora. Aoud Musk is $120 for 50 ML, Nasomatto Duro is $130 for 30 ML, Knize Ten is $65 for 30ML and $125 for 120 ML at ScentBar. My Knize Ten tester was mine

Smoke Gets in Your Eyes: Montale Full Incense

By Tom Other houses are known for keeping the volume down. They will have an incense scent that has wispy curls of smoke, like something half-remembered. Montale isn't one of those houses. I can't think of any other that would dare put out an incense scent that is this full on: the incense in the opening is so rich, so resiny it's almost eye-watering. It's not just church services, it's the church caught fire and burned to the ground before the local fire department could come to its aid, taking with it hymnals, roof beams, flying buttresses and a ten-year stock of the eponymous ingredient. Two little dabs on my hand were strong enough to be smelled from space and lasted longer than Knots Landing did on TV. Need I state that I adore it? Like the best of Montale, it's just so joyously over-the-top that it's impossible not to smile. Like the best of Montale it's also not so over-the-top that it's impossible to wear: just lightly dabbed and not, unless you are either attending or better yet presiding over a High Catholic Mass sprayed on clothing. The notes from LuckyScent are cedar, labdanum, patchouli, elemi and Somali incense. $120 for 50ML, which applied judiciously (which for the sake of those around you I fervently pray you do..) should last until the second coming. Perhaps even the third. My sample was cadged from ScentBar.

Montale Amber and Spices, Wild Aoud, and Aoud Leather

By Tom Somewhere Kelly is doing his "Toldja So!" dance.. Lately I have found myself very drawn to Montale fragrances, especially the aouds. Aoud (or Oud) is actually (according to Wikipedia) a reaction of a hardwood called Agarwood to a mold infection, a resin is produced; the more mold, the more resin, and the more scent. I've grown more and more fond of Montale's various scents that feature this slightly mushroomy clean-skin note and was happy to sample 3 of the 7 new ones that are available at luckyscent. Amber & Spices doesn't list aoud in the name, but it's in there from the opening to the end. The spices are cumin and nutmeg, lending this a slightly drrrty air and Montale's other trademark, deep winey rose. The woody amber drydown is lovely, but cumin hates keep in mind while this isn't Eau d'Hermes, if you consider for instance Serge Noire to be gaggingly skanky, this one isn't for you. It is however, very much for me. Wild Aoud starts with a burst of candied sweetness, sprightly citrus and candied rose petals before being joined by geranium, aoud and finally resiny woods. I only get a hint of the listed tobacco in the drydown and the listed patchouli is still hiding somewhere, but none of that's a bad thing. I'd never thought I would come across a "summery" Montale, much less enjoy it, but we live and learn. This surprised me by being my favorite of the three. Aoud Leather neatly tips your expectations on it's ear: the leather isn't a biker jacket, it's more a ladies opera-length glove. One with which she had inexplicably decided to zest some Mexican limes (the teensy ones that I think are Key limes in Florida). The effect is not unlike as luckyscent points out like Piguet's Bandit. Like one of those fashion magazine that dolls up Gwyneth Paltrow as Marilyn Monroe, this is a comparison that inevitably does Aoud Leather ill: it makes a very appealing scent pale by comparison. Actually, it kind of makes this seem like "Bandette". But if you find the Piguet just waaay to much, this is worth a try. Heck, it's worth a try on its own, because as luckyscent points out "there can never be too many leathers" $150 for 50ML, $210 for 100, at luckyscent Depending upon when this is put up, it will be a day shy of when Colombina first invited people to contribute to her blog. Three days later she kindly put up my first review. I want to first publicly thank her for three years of learning and growing as a perfume-lover and I hope as a writer, and of course to thank all of the people who have been so kind and generous with comments and thoughts. It's meant more to me than you can know and I look forward to more adventures in sniffing in the future. (Tom, the blog wouldn't be what it is without your elegantly snarky wit and you skanky tastes. You should know that I came up with that first call for contributors, to lure you in, because I loved your comments so much. You are the best! - M.) The winner of the Scents by Alwexis drawing is Chaya, please contact us with your shipping information and thanks to you all for your comments!

Seriously Sensual: Montale Aoud Queen Rose

By Donna Some time ago I received a much-coveted sample of Montale Aoud Queen Rose from a fellow perfumista and then promptly lost it. Recently I was doing some deep cleaning (by my definition anyway) and there it was. Between the time I had lost the sample and then found it again, I had tried it at my local perfume shop when they began to carry the Montale line. I discovered the addictive character of Aoud in a big way via the many Montales that have a hefty dose of this resinous wonder in them. In fact, there was not a single scent in their Aoud series that I did not find fascinating. There were standouts of course, and among them were the “sister scents” Aoud Roses Petals and Aoud Queen Rose. You might wonder why there even need to be more than one Aoud/Rose perfumes in the same line (and there are more of them, check out Aoud Damascus), and I had the same thought. Yet upon closer examination they are quite different, and even if they were not, can you ever have too much of what’s in these perfumes? I didn’t think so. Aoud Queen Rose belongs to a class of fragrance very dear to my heart: The “Bombshell Rose.” This elite club counts among its members such classics as Parfum Sacré, Magie Noire and Nahema, so the standard is high. Many bombshell scents are either white florals (Fracas, take a bow) or gigantic chypres (Paloma Picasso). The bombshell rose has to have some of the same elements, such as room-clearing sillage, a strong base of wood/leather/spices/vetiver etc. and a big wallop of sex appeal from animalic elements. Aoud Queen Rose has the whole package; Velvety Grasse and Arabian roses, Hibiscus, and a lot of Aoud. The roses are so heavy they are almost candied, like my beloved Nahema, but the overall effect is not nearly as sweet because of the musky, somewhat nutty hibiscus and pungent aoud. This is a dark perfume, smoldering with mystery, and once it’s on your skin it’s on for good – this stuff does not just have longevity, it has the half-life of a radioactive isotope. That’s good if you love aoud but exercise caution anyway. There are other Montales that have a bigger hit of aoud, but there is plenty of it in this. The effect of this perfume is almost narcotic as it wraps the wearer in a haze of sensuality like smoke from a magic lantern. Like Parfum Sacré, it seems to have an effect on other people too; doors are opened, chairs are pulled out, eyes lock and smiles are exchanged. Wear it when you feel daring and a bit wild - it’s a perfect match for any fantasy you might conjure up. Available at Luckyscent online and select retail stores such as The Perfume House - $150 for 50 ml of Eau de Parfum. Image credit: Photo of Hybrid Tea rose ‘Red Chateau’ from Wikimedia Commons.

Montale Oud Cuir d'Arabie, Red Vetyver and Black Aoud

By Tom Fist thing: the winner of the draw for the solid perfume is Marko. Please give us your mailing info and I will get the package right out. Montale is a house that I am becoming more and more enamored of lately. I've been pretty nuts about Musk to Musk and Greyland, so I was interested to try some more. Red Vetyver opens for me with immediate, pulpy grapefruit and bone-cold vetiver, quickly joined by hot black pepper, cedar and patch. It's certainly one of the more interesting vetivers out there; the dance between heat and chill is especially delightful. $125 for 50ML Black Aoud is perhaps the most straightforward of this trio; an aoudy rose with a woody base. It is a heartbreakingly lovely rose however, and I write that as someone who can be a big-time rose hater. It smells plush and expensive in a way that other fragrances that come in diamond-encrusted bottles don't. You can smell like a million for $150 for 50ML. Oud Cuir Arabie is the one of the three that I'd most love to see in my holiday stocking; it's leather that skirts the line between kid gloves and biker jacket with a sweet tobacco note that's a delight. The aoud note adds a delightful saltiness to the scent. The only thing I can think of is riding behind Brando circa "The Wild One", burrowing your head against his back to keep the wind off your face, the smell of his jacket and the slightly salty smell of his skin. Also $150 for 50Ml, and I am going to go fan myself now.. Available at LuckyScent and Aedes

Out on the Misty Moors: Montale Greyland

By Donna Okay, I will admit it, though it comes as no surprise whatsoever to anyone who knows me well; I am a truly incurable romantic. I have been this way as long as I can remember, and not even the most bitter disappointments in matters of the heart (and they are legion) can turn me from my steadfast belief in true love. I expect that when I am very old I will be swooning over the equally old men in the retirement home just as I did over boys as far back as kindergarten. I hope for romance for myself and eagerly live vicariously when others are so blessed (or afflicted, depending on your point of view). Of course, this being my natural tendency, I read many a romance novel as a young girl, along with more serious and thoughtful books. As I grew older I gradually left these fantasy stories behind, formulaic and predictable as they are, though I cannot promise that I never indulge anymore; they are like sinking into a satin-and-chocolate cocoon of comfort where nothing ever really goes wrong that a grand passion cannot make right in the end. Regardless of how much my heart gets knocked around in life, I can always dream of finding someone who just can’t stand to live without me. A handsome and sensual man to be sure, but more to the point, the kind of man who is capable of the kind of unflagging devotion and loyalty most people can only dream about, who rides through the mist-shrouded night on his majestic steed to make everything all right in the life of the woman he loves, a man of principle and integrity and intelligence and yes, all these things, while looking simply fabulous in a poet’s shirt, a pair of English riding boots, and very little else. (I did say fantasy, after all, didn’t I?) In short, the kind of man who wears Montale Greyland. I discovered this scent when my local perfume shop introduced the Montale line. The different scents arrived, on Montale’s quirky and immutable schedule, every two weeks, two at a time, and the shop was never told which ones they would be until they arrived. The process of stocking the whole line took several months. One day, I stopped in to check on the progress of this acquisition and there was Greyland. I had read a lot about the Aoud series but had never seen them in a store, and I had tried only one of the non-Aoud scents, Powder Flowers, so I really had no idea what sort of quality I was going to experience. It only took one pass through the first few to convince me that they were the real deal. I adored the Aoud perfumes, every one, and the others in the line were also excellent. I knew vaguely that many if not most of the Montales are intended to be unisex, but when I tried Greyland it said Manly to me, with a capital M. What struck me first about this fragrance is how deeply somber it is; it’s all seriousness and no play. This is not to say that it is dull or astringent or whatever, it’s not; it is just serious -and seriously, intensely sexy. Cool woods, subtle spices and musky notes paint a portrait of a man who means what he says and says what he means. Dashing and impressive, yet quietly contemplative, this is a scent for a man with hidden depths who knows exactly who he is. At first, it is more or less a classic “masculine” scent as the bracing opening of leather, spice and woods proclaims its intent, but as it simmers down there is a slightly watery (but not “marine”) feel to it from the vetiver, and the spices are never overpowering or too dominant. Cardamom lends a gently sweet note, the black pepper is just a tickle and the cumin is never intrusive; this is one of the most wearable cumin-infused scents I have ever tried. The leather does not get loud and hairy as in some masculine (and feminine!) scents; it is as smooth and refined as the finest chamois. As the drydown proceeds, sandalwood and musk transform Greyland into a true skin scent, and it lingers for hours. At least it does on me; some people find it too fleeting. I like the way it gradually becomes low-key on the skin and stays that way for a long time after the impressive opening. When I wear it, I keep getting fresh whiffs of vetiver and subtly sweet musk all day long as little reminders of what I am have on; when I first wore it all day I kept wondering what it was that smelled so divine –it was me! Greyland reminds me of one of my very favorite romantic movies, 1995’s Sense And Sensibility, which I have watched more times than I can count. It enters the picture like the handsome rogue Mr. Willoughby, who proceeds to win and then break Marianne’s heart, and that of every woman who has ever seen the film, but as it plays out over time, it turns out to be a lot more like the steadfast and loyal Colonel Brandon, who stays by Marianne’s side with quiet devotion until she sees him for the true hero he really is. Now that’s my kind of romance. Notes from Luckyscent: cedar, teak, sandalwood from Mysore, Sri Lankan pepper, elemi and cardamom, musk, rock rose and benzoin. Over at Fragrantica, the listed notes are cedar, sandalwood, vetiver, guaiac wood, ginger, pepper, leather, musk and rose. (I am not really getting any ginger from this, but the leather, oh yeah.) Image credits: Photo of actor Greg Wise (swoon!) as John Willoughby in the film Sense and Sensibility from lifeunaccordingtoplan.blogspot.com. Photo of actor Alan Rickman (sigh!) as Colonel Christopher Brandon in the same film, from rickmanistareview.com.

Montale Musk to Musk

By Tom As most of you know I have a love of musks, even though I tend to suck the life out of them. On others, Muscs Koublai Khan is mind-blowingly unwashed, on me it's a pussycat. Annick Goutal Musc Nomade is a glorious skin scent, SIP's Musc Botanique is a glorious take on verdant dirrtiness and CB I Hate Perfume Musk is akin to porn-berries jubilee. I am always on the lookout for the next thing and I was happy to find that Montale's Musk to Musk fit the bill. Luckyscent writes of it as spicy and resinous, but on me it doesn't much go there: there is a whisper of nutmeg and woods but nothing that can be called overly spicy. Tamara points out in her blog that it starts with Montale's trademark Aoud. It does, and even if I wrote in a comment of that this one died on me when I tried it, this one that's an argument to always try, try again. I'd dismissed it because amongst the others I'd tried when sampling this it was rolled over by something stronger; it's quietly silky-smooth beauty can't stand up to some of the, let's say louder things at ScentBar. The aoud whispers along with the spicy woods that results in something that makes me think of clean whiteness; not the dreaded clean sheets accord nor even clean skin. There's enough in there that this is identifiable as perfume that's wholly wonderful. So much so that I am almost dreading falling more in love with the Montale line, especially since Kelley has let me know in no uncertain terms that his are under lock and key... Musk to Musk is available at all places that sell Montale, $90 for 50ML

Perfume Review: Montale Aoud Red Flowers

If Lipstick Rose had a fling with an aoud scent, the result of the fling would have been a scent with its papa's exotic coloring and its mama's very French, very feminine and very chic disposition. This Beauty-and-the-Beast offspring would have been named Aoud Red Flowers. Montale have already (successfully) attempted to marry Europe and Orient in Aoud Flowers, which blended aoud with tuberose. Aoud Red Flowers mixes aoud with marigolds (I am assuming, red marigolds and, inevitably, roses, also red). For the life of me I cannot remember the smell of marigolds, I can only say that in this particular fragrance the floral accord seems to be bright, not particularly sweet, with just enough powderiness to evoke lipsticks and foundations and all things classically feminine, retro and refined. I cannot smell the declared saffron at all, but it might be this golden spice that contributes to the dazzling brightness of the floral accord and enhances the broody exoticism of the aoud. This is a non-aggressive aoud for those who are still a little scared of aouds and a moderately powdery floral for those who want some but not too much powder. Or a great new scent for those who like their exotic scents to have a classic feel and for their classics to have an exotic twist. Available at Luckyscent and Aedes, $150.00-$210.00 The image is by Annie Leibovitz.

Perfume Review: Montale Red Aoud

You probably know by now that I am a big fan of Montale's aouds. And yet I must admit that there are so many of them and the differences between them are so subtle that, well, they all smell kind of the same. Yes, I adore Aoud Roses Petals and Aoud Flowers but, were you to make me blind-smell them, I probably wouldn't have been able to tell which one is which. Red Aoud, however, has something distinctive about it ... Namely, chocolate. That's right, somehow a strange and strangely appealing mix of aoud, cumin, saffron and orris produces a chocolate-like effect on my skin. Imagine one of those bizarre-sounding Vosges bars that blend chocolate with chili and pimento (and things almost unthinkable, like wasabi and bacon). The combination of bitter-sweet chocolate and spice is, to me, irresistible, in food and in perfume. I have a feeling that ingesting aoud is "almost certain to disagree with you, sooner or later", but were it safe to consume it in tiny doses, an aoud-rose-saffron-cumin chocolate bar would have been something I'd happily pay $7.50 for. The "chocolate" effect does not last too long. After a while, Red Aoud turns into the usual rose-heavy, resinous, dark and sensual scent that unites all Montale aouds. But the spicy-sweet beginning is unique enough for me to want to own the bottle. Available at the usual Montale retailers, $150.00-$210.00.