Nuit de Bakélite
Naomi Goodsir (2017)

The leather smell is noticeable, but this mainly smells very green, like ivy, grass, tomato stalks, green peppers...except it's extremely bitter, like biting into a raw quince...there's something in it that verges on acrid at times on my skin, almost like burnt plastic. I'm not sure if the davana and floral notes save it or ruin it, but there's definitely an underlying floral-fruitiness, which might be what I perceive as acrid mixing with the bitter green leather.

Edit: I like the dry down a little better. I think it's the tobacco plus it's milder.

In an age where the average TikTok fragrance influencer recommends candy-floss laundry musk tragedies for smelling "like a snack" and the results-driven content-creator puts the aphrodisiac function over anything else. Ok, eff it, let's just cut to the case, there are legions of fellas (and woman who capitalize on the trope) who see fragrance as a means to an end, perhaps a rear end to be exact, or some "trim," because let's face it, that's what it's really all about, right?

Now imagine a fragrance that gives the middle finger to any hackneyed concept of what is sexy or palatable. It pushes the wearer to feel all the flavors, including the sour, the bitter, even touching upon the decidedly ascetic (at least to start), in the form of not so glamorous vegetation (think stinging nettles, tagetes marigold, milkweed) and even inorganic matter formed from a condensation reaction of phenol with formaldehyde. WHAT? And somehow, I am more moved by this than by anything that reminds us of indulging in desserts or sloppy sex (though I do have a place in my heart for both of those, let me be clear).

Nuit de Bakelite starts BITTER, SHARP, and COOL. It is a lesson in stark reality, and sheds a light on its beauty. Plants protect themselves by being unpalatable to organisms that would otherwise devour them. Now do you always want to be devoured or would you like to be admired from afar before making the next chess move? Reverence doesn't always mean touch, fondle, and grope. There are stems and secretions, arguably more magnificent than blood and semen. These elements are just as much part of the verve and vigor. Galbanum represents the chlorophyll and phloem, artemisia represents the teeth, tuberose the flesh, and the angelica root the sex, with its vegetal muskiness.

Over time, the ice melts, we peel away the layers, and the soul is laid bare and vulnerable, this is authentic naked, not merely five-minutes-tops carnal, far more meaningful. Leathery yet damp, soil, humus, reminiscent of plasticine or opening up a new toy; a bit softer, but still steadfast in staking its claim. Nuit de Bakelite is like an aperitif, better to be sipped than swallowed. "Savor the flavor" they say—well, don't mind if I do!

I get a lot of iris and galbanum with a hint of angelica. And, of course a slight smokiness which seems to be in virtually all Naomi Goodsir fragrances. I like it.

Fragrance In Three Words: Green Stinging Nettles

This is a very bitter green smelling fragrance. It reminded me of stinging nettles and ivy that used to grow up the side of an old shed at my parent's house.

The fragrance didn't really evolve that much so if you don't like the opening stay away.

The fragrance lasted about 6 hours on skin, sometimes longer on hot days. It also smelt very potent in the atomiser and on clothing.

There's something about it I liked, but it could be a bit too much if I wasn't in the mood.

Rating 7 out of 10.

Very strong, a bit caustic perhaps? Too tenacious and loud for my tastes.

Like a rebooted Grey Flannel on kryptonite.

Next to Yatagan, this is one of the most truly vegetal scents I've put my nose on. All manner of green leaves, stems, roots, bulbs, and buds grow and thrive here in a profusion of herbal and slightly peppery undergrowth. Tuberose (thank heavens) is only an incidental player here, adding merely a tiny bit of florality to the intense and almost bitterly green nature of this fragrance. I am reminded of two other new scents, Dryad and Naja, and if you mixed the verdure of the first with the smokiness of the second you might come up with something close to the Goodsir. This is definitely not a clean green or a springtime green or perhaps even a green that any of us is familiar with. Instead, it is a noir-ish green that hides a tiny sting or snakebite--the scent that vaporized into the air when the serpent wound around that very first tree and flicked its tongue at the hapless, round-eyed couple.

Strange. Intriguing. Provoking.

Girl with a white dog by Lucian Freud

Genre: Green Floral

Ostensibly a tuberose, though I doubt admirers of Fracas, Carnal Flower, or even Tubereuse Criminelle are going to know what to make of Nuit de Bakelite. This is one profoundly strange perfume. It opens on a harsh accord of galbanum, angelica (a bit like celery stem), and violet leaf, underpinned by something that smells to me like the musty funk of fenugreek, though no such thing is listed in the pyramid. This challenging green opening accord is softened only slightly as Nuit de Bakelite's floral notes emerge. The tuberose, when it arrives, has been stripped of all its sweet, indolic character, and instead radiates a kind of venomous, narcotic aura. It is accompanied by a rooty iris and potent karo karounde, a note familiar from L'Artisan Parfumeur's Timbuktu. Indeed, the karo karounde note is conspicuous enough to conjure Timbuktu for a moment, even though Nuit de Bakelite travels in a very different direction. The overall impression is powerfully bitter, green, and exotic, more incense-like to me than conventionally floral. In character the closest relative that comes to mind, besides the aforementioned Timbuktu, is Pierre Guillaume's Papyrus de Ciane, which while quite distinctly softer grained, is similarly green and bitter in its general style. In its refusal to yield an ounce of sweetness, Nuit de Bakelite is also reminiscent of Frédéric Malle's French Lover/Bois d'Orage, though the two do not smell particularly alike.

Performance-wise, Nuit de Bakelite is fiendishly potent and tenacious. The drawer in which I kept my sample still smells of Nuit de Bakelite weeks after I've removed it. My 19 year-old daughter walked into the house while I was wearing a dabbed-on sample for evaluation, pulled an expression of disgust, such as only a teenager can, and demanded to know “What is that smell?” I asked what it was she was smelling, and she replied “Vegetables. Rotting vegetables.” Needless to say, not everybody is going to like Nuit de Bakelite. I'm not sure that I do. I'm going to have to lump it with Timbuktu and Bertrand Duchaufour's Sienne l'Hiver among fragrances I can admire for their quality more than I can like. I give this a reluctant thumbs up, for unlike, say, Sécrétions Magnifiques, it's weird, but it's not disgusting.

Pleasant, classical, well-structured. I get spicy floral. I would not wear this to a night club (too refined) or a black tie event (too handsomely unisex, not handsomely masculine) but everywhere else and in between is a yes and I would expect people to react "there's a solid stable likable chap."