I’ve tried a number of unisex Oud fragrances from such niche perfume lines as Montale and By Kilian. (The latter was founded by the grandson of the famous Hennessy dynasty whose high-end cognac company is now part of the LVMH luxury conglomerate.) Oud scents are not cheap and the niche houses who put them out can charge a pretty penny. I could afford to try so many only thanks to the incredibly useful website, Surrender to Chance, which sells sample vials or larger-sized “decants” of almost every cologne or fragrance imaginable – from department stores lines to the niche houses to the rare, discontinued and vintage. (I cannot recommend them enough and the shipping is a fantastic price for a fast turnaround: $2.95 for First Class Shipping on any order within the U.S., and starting at $5.95 for international shipping.)
From By Kilian (hereinafter referred to just as Kilian), I tried four unisex fragrances from his Arabian Nights Collection: Amber Oud, Rose Oud, Incense Oud and Pure Oud. Incense Oud opened with a sharp lime note which quickly receded to the background as the smoky, incense-y wood notes appeared. I liked this scent, though I swing back and forth as to whether I prefer the Rose Oud which opens with that sharp lime note before adding a rose element to the smokiness and woodiness. Honestly, I’ve concluded that that bitter, acrid, sharp, almost burning lime element has to be some element of the Oud distillation because I get it in a number of different Oud scents on the market. Not all, but enough such that I sometimes wonder if I’m imagining its pervasiveness, particularly as “sharp, acrid lime” is not something usually associated with Oud. This is obviously where personal chemistry comes into play.
Regardless, both Incense and Rose Oud settle into a comfortable, smoky woodiness that is quite different. Neither has much sillage or longevity on me, but as I have repeatedly mentioned, few things do. With both Kilians, they fade into softness as quickly as 15 minutes later! However, they do remain, albeit close to the skin, with the Incense lasting for about 2 hours and the Rose Oud lasting a bit closer to 3 hours.
Kilian’s Amber Oud was a different experience because I smelled no oud whatsoever! No acrid, sour lime here but, rather, a lovely, very sweet opening note of amber and brown sugar. Almost a caramel feel, you might say, mixed with some 1970s-style patchouli and vanilla. The wood accord is simply nonexistent. So much so that I wondered if I was completely insane and decided to check the website, Basenotes. Apparently, I’m sane. There is no oud, according to most of the commentators, even though the official notes include it, along with bayleaf, cedarwood, amber and vanilla. As one person noted, you could get the same result from Prada’s Amber series. I will say this, however, it lasted longer on me than the Rose or Incense versions.
Pure Oud was a completely unique experience out of the four Arabian Night fragrances that I tried. Basenotes states that it is composed of: “Oud, Saffron, Copahu balm, Amber, Gaiac wood, Cypriol, Cistus labdanum, Myrrh, Animalic notes.” On me, it (thankfully) lacked the strong opening lime note but descended immediately into a pure, almost synthetic perhaps, explosion of woodiness. It was different, there is no doubt, and quite fascinating. I can honestly say I’ve never smelled anything like it, perhaps as it is a cold, stony, wintery wood scent with a leather undertone. It strongly reminds me of the inside of a new, very expensive luxury car with ample (real) walnut wood and leather that is like butter. Except here, the leather isn’t hugely prominant in the face of that cold, steely wood. There is definitely an outdoorsy feel to this that is quite mentally and psychologically evocative. Living in warm Houston, I was strongly reminded of living in New York at Christmas time, wrapped up in a thick woolen coat and walking a street decorated with Christmas lights and covered with snow as tall steel or stone structures loomed up above. There is a slightly stony element and a coldness (in a good way) to the scent, along with the outdoorsy elements and leather. It made me wonder if this was what “cold,” “winter” or “stone” smelled like to the antihero, Grenouille, in the famous book Perfume.
Alas, even half a sample vial of this (in one go!) started to mellow on me within 15 minutes. It did not, however, fade completely. Instead, something different emerged. I actually could smell some Saffron (I cook a lot) and definitely some Myrrh. From that very cold, almost stone-like opening of wood with leather, now emerged lovely Myrrh, Saffron and Oud. My nose is not distinguished enough to know what Gaiac Wood, Cyprior or Cistus Labdanum smell like exactly but, whatever this is and whatever they do, the overall result is lovely. All in all, Pure Oud lasted perhaps 2 hours on me. I can’t say that it is something I would reach for daily but for those occasions when I want to feel different, unique and strangely enough, powerful, I would reach for this.
In contrast, Lime Aoud from Montale made me want a “Silkwood Shower.” (“Silkwood” is a fantastic film with Meryl Streep which led to the popular term referencing the scalding shower intended to rid one of radioactive contamination.) In fact, I did take my own version of Silkwood shower. Alas, there was no remedying how revolting this smelled on me. Oh, the irony that the woman on whom most things fade is subjected to a perfume she loathes and cannot escape. (As one of my best friends put it, it’s a situation worthy of the Twilight Zone.) I should begin by stating that the niche perfume house, Montale, is well-known (and much adored) for its various Aoud scents. They have many, with Dark Aoud being one that people frequently rave about as the ultimate in pure, really dark, super intense Aoud scents. (God, if it’s stronger than the Lime Aoud, please kill me before a touch of it gets on me.)
I ordered Lime Aoud because of the many raves for it on Fragrantica. Its notes intrigued me and certainly sounded good at the time: Aoud, Rose, Iris, Amber, Patchouli, Sandalwood, and Saffron. (See, Basenotes.) Some comments mention the extremely harsh opening of lime and Aoud. (It was the first time that lime was officially supposed to be part of an Aoud fragrance that I’d tested and, yet, I sometimes smell that note when it’s not supposed to be. Baffling.) Other commentators talk about a medicinal, bitter and metallic scent. I agree with both of those impressions. I’m not sure I agree with those who say that Lime Aoud turns into amber, sandalwood and roses.
The first time I put on Lime Aoud, I put on a small amount as I could tell from the moment I opened the vial that it was intense. I was blasted back by the lime and medicinal nature of it for hours. Sharp, acrid, medicinal, camphorous even, mixed in — totally incongruously, if I might add — with competing floral scents in an utterly revolting mix that just got stronger and stronger. After about 5 hours of barely suppressing nausea, I finally caved and took a long, scalding shower. Even after that, I could still smell faint traces of the worst part of it. And my clothes and hair positively reeked of it. It was so horrendous, I threw my clothes into the washer.
A few days later, I wondered if I’d imagined it and thought that I should give it another go. After all, some scents develop and change. Maybe I hadn’t given it enough of a chance. No. I lasted even less this time. I simply could not bear it. It was like someone had sprayed a floral scent in the air of a morgue, combining with its antiseptic, harshly metallic, cold, steel, and then added about a gallon of bitter lime on top of all that. My God, I’m cringing at the sheer memory.
Montale’s Aoud Blossom was slightly more successful on me. Probably because it seems to have very little Aoud in it! According a commentator on Basenotes, it contains: “bergamot, Sicilian mandarin, ylang ylang, violet, jasmine sambac, tuberose, rose, Mysore sandalwood, Arabian oud.” Many seem to think there is little to no real Aoud in it. I disagree. I can definitely smell it in the opening minutes, faint though it may be. Someone says they can smell the tuberose in it. I love tuberose and I get none of that on me. What I can smell is a definite floriental. Floral from the very dominant rose component, and oriental from the more spicy notes. I’m not sure I can really detect the mandarin, violet or jasmin but I can definitely smell the bergamot, ylang ylang and the sandalwood. However, everything is essentially overwhelmed by a very loud rose note that remains consistently dominant.
While Kilian and Serge Lutens fragrances don’t last long on me (at all!), Montale ones have decent to moderate sillage, and great longevity. (Too great, alas, in the case of the Lime Aoud). Its longevity is quite surprising to me, given how niche fragrances usually die a quick death on my skin. Aoud Blossom lasted about 5 hours on me, all in all. I will be frank, however, this is not a scent I would ever reach for again. And I am fighting off the urge to take another shower. It’s simply too pungent and in-your-face. Now, I *adore* strong scents, floral orientals and anything with a POW! And almost nothing gives me a bad physical reaction. But this… I can feel it at the back of my throat, it’s so overpowering that I feel a bit dizzy and I feel the onset of a migraine. It’s a deeply unhappy experience and one which has made me conclude that I must stay very far away from the House of Montale.
That said, there are enough variations of Aoud on the market that — whether your preference is for a sweeter version, a more woody one, a floral rose variation or hard core medicinal iteration — you can be sure to find one that appeals to you. If you’re willing to pay the prices for the uniqueness! This is not Coty or even your mother’s Estée Lauder. As for me, I will continue my exploration of Oud – probably with Tom Ford’s Oud Wood next as a friend of mine reports nothing medicinal, metallic, acrid or sharp about it. If I do try it out, I will be sure to report back.
I love the “Silkwood Shower” description on Lime Aoud. I have to agree, it did not agree with me. The Montale’s last forever. I’m suprised that the Kilian’s didn’t last longer on you. Incense Oud is one of my favorites. Rose Oud is pretty much up there as well. Nice review!
Thank you! And I must say, I liked your review as well. My favorite though was the rather hilarious, wonderfully wry and dry “About” page/description of yourself. I would have commented on that but it would have required a direct email to you and I don’t believe in intruding that way. 🙂
Regarding the fragrances, I am rather relieved that I am not alone in my feelings on Lime Aoud. Honestly, sometimes, I feel like rather a freak in my reactions to commonly adored or much raved about fragrances. As for longevity, very (VERY) few things last on me. Even the notorious powerhouse Amarige by Givenchy barely makes it past 6 hours unless I put on a LOT. The only things that have really lasted on me were original (unreformulated, vintage) Opium, Molinard’s Habanita, and (vintage) Karl Lagerfeld for men. Everything else is rather a hopeless cause, *especially* from the niche perfume houses. (Serge Lutens, I’m looking at you in particular!) The unfortunate exception being Montale….
Trust me, everbody is different in their fragrance loves. Sometimes in the blogger universe though it seems that people jump on a bandwagon with some fragrances when it’s hard to believe after smelling it that it could be. For instance, I really disliked Seville a l’Aube by L’Artisan Perfumeur, but everyone LOVED it. I never got that one. A trick for making fragrance last is to put on some fragrance free lotion which will help to absorb the fragrance. It works, I sometimes have to do this in the winter as my skin gets so dry.
Alas, the unscented lotion trick doesn’t work on me. I’m new to blogging but hardly new to perfume, and I have very mixed feelings about the niche bandwagon. There is an element of judgmental condescension that rubs me the wrong way. Now, make no mistake, I have plenty of my own judgmental condescension and snobbishness for things — like the truly mass-market celebrity perfumes for the most part or, as my (seemingly endless) series on modern trends shows, I am beyond snotty about some of the laundry detergent scents out there along with the sugar bombs. But there is something else going on with the niche bandwagon that I haven’t managed to put my finger on. Perhaps it’s the automatic sheep mentality that “niche” equals better. I don’t agree at all. The only thing I strongly think is (usually) better is Vintage. But don’t get me started on the IFRA regulations and the reformulation of fragrances. THAT is a very sort subject with me. LOL!
BTW, nice beagle!
LOL. I can’t take credit. In fact, I only have cats, but I used to have a dog that just looked like this hound!
Cats are wonderful too, though in my utterly biased, madly obsessed opinion, nothing could ever compare to a German shepherd! I trust you will forgive me. 😉 So, I see you like Cartier’s Roadster. Nice choice. What do you think of old-school smells like Habit Rouge, Antaeus, Monsieur Givenchy, Kouros, Vetiver and the like? Perhaps I need to scour your blog a little more. 🙂
Pingback: Reviews En Bref – Boucheron, Montale, Caron, & Annick Goutal: From Average to Terrible | Kafkaesque
Pingback: Perfume Review – YSL M7 For Men (Reformulated): The Lion is a Pussycat | Kafkaesque
Pingback: Perfume Review: Amouage Jubilation XXV: An Oud Fit For A Sultan | Kafkaesque
Pingback: Review En Bref: Montale Aoud Cuir d’Arabie | Kafkaesque
Pingback: Perfume Review – Tom Ford Private Blend Noir de Noir: Henry VIII’s Tudor Rose | Kafkaesque
I had ordered a bottle on eBay, and when it came, the seller threw in a bunch of samples, including By Killian’s Rose Oud and a bunch from the Xerjoff Oud Stars line! Exciting, since they are expensive perfumes I’ll be glad to try. I tried Rose Oud but don’t like it. I found the initial blast of rose very off-putting, and it definitely has a bathroom air freshener quality to my nose. Glad I’m not tempted by this one!
Ooooo, how exciting! Especially the Xerjoff. For the sake of your wallet, I hope you don’t fall for a $700 perfume. *grin* You’ll have to let me know what you think.
As for the Kilian’s, I’m in the minority it seems in being quite underwhelmed by them thus far. I’ve noticed that men seem a lot more keen on them than the women whom I know have tried the line. (Particularly the fruitish Garden of Good and Evil collection that they’ve tried.)
I know the founder is said to be extremely gracious, approachable, friendly and generous, so I’d definitely like to give them many more tries. Thus far, though, my 4 attempts with the Arabian collection left me feeling quite ambivalent. The Pure Oud, though, was quite intriguing. I think I liked that one the most, with the Amber one being the most approachable (and thus, least interesting) due to the nonexistent amounts of oud in it (to my nose, at least). But the rose one left me feeling the most … Meh. Perhaps for the reasons that you noted, combined with the fact that I’m not a huge rose fan to begin with.
You’ll definitely have to let me know what you think of the Xerjoff ones. Was this the seller from whom you got the George Sands?
Pingback: Perfume Review – Illuminum White Gardenia Petals: Kate Middleton’s Wedding Choice | Kafkaesque
Pingback: Perfume Review – Roberto Cavalli Eau de Parfum: My Guilty Pleasure | Kafkaesque
Pingback: Perfume Review – Tom Ford Private Blend Oud Wood: An Approachable Oud | Kafkaesque
Pingback: Review En Bref: Montale Aoud Safran | Kafkaesque
Pingback: Celebrating #100 | Kafkaesque
Pingback: Perfumes – ISO E Super: Antiseptic Horror, Aphrodisiac Pheromone or Nothingness? | Kafkaesque
Pingback: Perfume Review: Guerlain Rose Nacrée du Désert (Les Déserts d’Orient Collection) | Kafkaesque
Pingback: Reviews En Bref – Maison Francis Kurkdjian Oud Mood Collection: Velvet, Silk & Cashmere | Kafkaesque
Pingback: Perfume Reviews: Montale Intense Café & Chocolate Greedy | Kafkaesque
Pingback: Ex Idolo Thirty-Three | Kafkaesque