O'Driù (2013)

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Peety by O'Driù

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About Peety by O'Driù

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The fragrance contains 49ml. It is suggested you make up the final 1ml with a drop of your own urine.

Fragrance notes.

Reviews of Peety by O'Driù

There are 14 reviews of Peety by O'Driù.

Saturn Eats His Child by Francisco Goya

Reviewing Peety is something different than reviewing other fragrances from Angelo. This happens because my first hate and despise and dismiss for what Angelo had to offer in O'DRIÚ started with the launchment of this one. Was Angelo mocking all perfume lovers by creating something that would suggest you to enhance it using your own pee? I took my perfume passion too serious and i let my prejudices win me on this. I hated peety, i wrote about my feelings and then moved on. And since life is very ironic, here i am today seeing that i was wrong and there was something very solid about Angelo work if you cut through the provocative aura.

Peety is a junction of words: pee and pity, but not pity in a condescending way. It's interesting to see that the latin word from which pity derives, Pieta, goes into a more divine direction, something related to devotion and loyalty. Thinking about the junction of words it seems to have two meanings here: a unique bond between the perfumer and the final user and at the same time a narcissism of a person, an almost religious devotion to itself, something that is very suitable in our modern days.

It is described as a dadaistic perfume, which at the first time i thought odd since most of dadaism artworks seems devoid of a easy to read meaning for me, which is not the case here. But then, searching about dadaísm i could understand why: Peety is in its essence a dadaístic perfume in a way that it challenges the culture and values of current perfumes - in special the frivolous way which the industry sell massive uniqueness, a fragrance that it's so special to you and for other thousands of people like you. And it certainly uses an outrageous element - pee - to scandalize and shock the audience and I'm a proof of that.

But i wanted to understand, after all, if adding your pee to peety would be just a way to criticize the system or a very avant-gard and radical way to make something unique, bespoke to you. I thought, a fragrance is full of elements that are added to preserve it, so would a few drops of urine ruin it? Also, if we have always accepted materials like beeswax (which is regurgitated by bees), ambergris (whale's vomite), civet (extracted from the anal glands of civet) and musk (also from glands), what would be using your own pee? Just another animalic material, this one got in a ecofriendly fashion.

Wearing Peety without pee is already in itself a satisfying experience. Again i see the classic influens of Angelo showing on here, from a scent that seems to incorporate fougere, animalic and sweet fruity aspects altogether. It has that chamaleonic aura that many classics have, one that keeps you guessing what you are wearing: it's sweet, riped fruits? Or maybe dry spices? What about aromatic herbs against sensual ylang? Or even an animalic castoreum combined with dry amber and patchouli? And what about a sweet and smoky tobacco aroma against a minty-like ginger? Those are the varied layers of Peety and it's a very rich experience trying to pay attention into all of them.

Using my own pee on Peety in fact changed this experience. I added three drops to half of my sample and expected two weeks before wearing it a day after i wore the regular one. I expected a more fruity nuance to emerge based on what i discussed with Angelo, but curiously Peety got very focused and chaneled a very good masculine fougere chypre from 80's in this incarnation. Suddenly a clove-ish aura got stronger in contrast with dirty musks, patchouly, making the herbs standing too. It seemed to exhale a very mainly aura, almost raw and keept from being too much by the subtle sweetness showed in the resins of the base, constrasting with some hints of moss. It wasn't something outrageous or shocking, it gave me more a nostalgia feeling of a time where fragrances seemed to be made from a singular vision to be shared and appreciated with the ones that enjoyed it. It seems to fulfill the first meaning of pity instead the second one and it was a moment of breaking through what was a taboo for me. Still, i think this will be the first and the last time that i wear my own pee as the final layering touch in a fragrance.

I don't have a comprehensive review of Peety. I defer to several other great reviews already posted. I just wanted to add a quick impression:

Peety is old school. Its big; offering a plethora of notes which take turns in the forefront. It layers the oriental and animalic notes onto an aromatic structure. Like some of the old powerhouses did. I could swear there is oakmoss in the mix; but perhaps that's just wishful thinking on my part.

Anyway, Peety is a delight. Thumbs up!

A majestic composition. An oriental spicy with an unusual blend of notes that will give you a fragrance to wear that is beyond expectations. I absoloutely love the notes. The opening is bit strong but that is a work of art. The good balance helps to gain universal appear by both men and women but to me it is a mystreious man with a very charming smile secure of his masculinity. Sensuous, spicy, intriguing, sultry,
attractive, complex and fascinating.

The opening embodies the smooth sensuality of the finest tonka bean and moss and merges them with the sour citrus freshness of bitter orange. Core spices of cinnamon, tobacco intertwine within the sweetness of rose that exudes mystery. The base is rich and sensual with amber, sandalwood and patchouli making the wearer both attractive and romantic. The scent is perfect for the warm summer night or cozy up with your cashmere sweater in the fall/winter time.

I've been wearing this novel all day today

Couldn't understand why memories of my Grandfather popped into my view all day.

Now I know.

Peety, for me, is most similar to the signature fragrance of this my biggest hero.

Peety is the Old Spice of the 50's, 60's, brought into the 21st.

As ClairV has indicated, in parts it draws on some elements used in Tauer's work and just as quickly draws back to the oily fruit of the olive.

Peety will be soon purchased, for my wardrobe, as it's perfume reminds me of all the wonderful qualities of this most admired man, my Grandfather.
Honesty, Integrity, Sexiness, Masculinity.
Pregoni again, presents an extraordinary piece that has a Trademark, Innovative exploration and always a clean and tidy finish.
Honesty, Integrity, Sexiness, Masculinity.

This fragrance famously comes 49ml to the bottle, with the final 1ml to be topped up using a drop or two of one's own urine. I only had a small sample vial, though. I gave it my best shot, logistics not being my strong point and all, but there I was, crouched furtively over the small vial when the horrid thought occurred to me: WHAT IF THE PERSON WHO GAVE ME THE SAMPLE ALREADY PEED IN IT?

I thought quickly – who had given me the sample? Ah, that's right – Colin Maillard. So off I waddled to my computer, my panties around my knees, and past the living room, where my husband looked up from his newspaper and called out mildly, “Everything alright, dear?”

Colin had not, it turns out, adulterated the sample. I was free to pee. But in the end, I chose not to. I'd like to say it was logistics, but really, I am a wuss.

So what does Peety smell like?

Surprising (to me). I don't know why but I had expected something comforting and stodgy, like a piece of marmalade pudding with custard on a cold day. It's something about the listed notes that made me think that – tobacco, tonka, honey, oranges. I had been imagining Tobacco Vanille mixed with a little bit of Absolue Pour Le Soir and rounded off with a touch of Feve Delicieuse (or Pure Havane).

No such thing – this is the opposite of comfort. This is startling. Uncomfortable even. In a good, on-the-edge-of-your-seat way.

The first whiff corresponded with the notions of tobacco comfort I'd nurtured: a deep waft of whiskey and tobacco and even hay, and there I was with a grin on my face and getting ready to sit back and enjoy the ride.

But then in rode this wave of licorice-like herbs and citrus fruits, all drenched in this dark, bitter honey with a deep piss-like nuance to it. Bitter oranges and lemons might indeed explain some of the sharpness, but here the citrus is not fresh. It smells like a cross between a bunch of dried herbs and a lemon, like lemongrass or singed lime peel. The herb-citrus mélange covers the fragrance with a deep medicinal gloom that seems almost black to me, like viewing a pile of luridly-hued fruits under a thick brown preserving glaze in a museum bell jar.

The sharp atmosphere that this almost toxic stew of pissy-honey, civet, medicinal clove, herbs, and preserved lemons creates forms the central character of Peety – and it never quite leaves. But that is what is fascinating to me. It reminds me of something caustic you'd use to lance a boil or dress a war wound.

Actually, this sort of barbershoppy, herb-strewn, musky character is something I associate with a certain style in Italian perfumery. I have experienced the same herbs-and-citrus-on-steroids openings in many of the other O'Driu's, including Eva Kant, and in Bogue's Maai and Ker. There is a sort of hyper-masculine, but self-conscious retro barbershop style at play here, as if these perfumers are trying to re-imagine the traditional Italian barbershops and apothecaries they might remember from their childhood.

The style is specifically Italian to me, and although I didn't grow up in Italy, I did live there, and I recognize the atmosphere of those old, dusty places where traditional healing remedies, tisanes, and unguents sit right next to little white boxes full of Swiss-precise modern medicines. The whole of Italy is kind of like that; this weird and charming mix of traditional superstition and ultra-modern moral mores. So when I say that parts of Peety remind me of those Ricola honey-anise throat pastilles you see at every cash register in Italy, I don't mean that it literally smells like that but that there is a memory association there for me.

Later on, a musky tobacco accord emerges, rich and glowing. The end result, on my skin anyway, is a sort of “old leather” aroma redolent with male musk and warm, stubbly cheeks (the type on a man's face, one hastens to add). The aura of rich male skin and musk is bolstered by a warm, almost sick-smelling castoreum, and while there is never sweetness, there is a feeling of sharp edges being rounded off and sanded down – a sleepy warmth.

Funnily enough, it is only in the very later stages, when the bitter herbs and spices have banked down a bit, that I can smell the flowers – a rose and jasmine combination that smells both sultry and medicinal. Joined with the cozy ambroxan or amber-cashmere material in the background, there is an effect there that is quite similar to Andy Tauer's Le Maroc Pour Elle (although this is not as sweet). The dry, papery (and hyper-masculine-smelling) tobacco accord in the dry-down is a real delight. It is not fruity or sweet like other tobaccos – this is dry and leathery. Persistence is extraordinary – I could smell this on my face cloth for four days afterwards.

A fascinating experience, this perfume, and just one of those things you feel richer for having experienced. Very few moments of wide-eyed delight come about for me these days, so hats off to Angelo Pregoni for Peety.

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