There is something rooted in physically; the describe body of a lover and not just his or her unique personality traits or dazzling mind.this is a lover that must make love;i think of Dante and a universe in which love maybe heavenly or eternal but for which we pay a physical price.it has depth and emotion more than a flirt It's a dare.it smells like love and pain,it smells like memories. highly powerful chypre-leather extrait and a full-on olfactory assault for the first ten minutes.
This is not just leather,this is skin leather, it's leather being uaed in contact with the skin in high-intensity activity.iris provides some creaminess and refinement,and incense together wit amber take this juice out of the obvious, and repeated leather-iris compositions.it has some sweetness, but not directed to create gourmand nuances,but amplifying the effect of warmed uo bodies.as it dries down the leather with animalic notes becomes a bit more powdery,but keeps it's overall character. good projection and longevity.
I would simply love to smell this on a man. Or on the world's most chic and sophisticated woman. (Erin O'Connor or Tilda Swinton might fit the bill.) This is dark leather. It isn't bitter or brutal, but it is black or very dark chocolate in its coloration. It has an aristocratic nose and Vikings somewhere in its heritage. This perfume has a spine of steel and it occasionally mucks out the stalls, and then puts on a a beautifully tailored frock coat and smokes a cigar.
Okay, but how does it smell? Like uncured leather combined with some rooty vegetation, a hint of tobacco and the darkest, richest, bittersweet chocolate money can buy.
Hyper soft (though really straight forward and never fully structured) silky aroma from Parfumerie Generale. Cuir d'Iris is basically one of the smoothest "waxy" leathers (leather/suede) ever. A pleasant spicy connection of super smooth leather, iris, musks, balsams and patchouli. Well, if you love musk/suede accords a la Cuir de Lancome, Parfum d'Empire Cuir Ottoman, Dior Homme Parfum, Laboratorio Olfattivo Daimiris but also scents a la Heeley Cuir Pleine Fleur, Naomi Godsir Cuir Velours and Ramon Monegal Mon Cuir, well...this one should surely appeal your pleasure. Cuir d'Iris opens with a stout combination of fresh spices (cardamom) and wet hesperides, immediatelly joined by a subtle dodgy hint of rich leather yet emerging from the background. Gradually, in the central phase, a dark poudre type of saturnine Iris discloses its powdery black soul, as supported by a rounding chocolatey envelop from dark cocoa (cioccolato fondente). Patchouli jumps gradually on the stage as sinister protagonist supported by a warm animalic accord of leather, amber, chocolate and soothing balsams. Overall is surrounded by a general musky aura with a touch of metallic saltiness (vetiver??). The deep dry down is really misty, a cedary-kind of incensey dark accord of leather and patchouli with a vague lipstick feel and a green/vegetal temperament. Frankly is hard for me to properly detect vetiver (I just catch musk, labdanum and green leaves) while I get something kind of lacteous and warmly animalic like rich fat milk (a sort of unpasteurized "beastly"milk ideally enriched by cocoa dust and a touch of coffee). Finally the animalic notes prevail over the general silkiness and the aroma turns out dirtier and more interesting. That's the part more interesting (though fleeting), something slightly acid, milky, ambery and green-lymphatic (as a sticky lymph pouring from a fat plant). Really faint longevity on my skin.
P.S: dry down is mostly incensey-chocolatey and frankly somewhat boring.
I love leathers and I love iris. The name of this scent seemed to be a perfect come hither promise of fulfillment in these two areas. The best iris around is of course Lutens' Iris Silver Mist with its abundance of orris butter, which creates the impression of a soft Italian leather in glove, jacket or purse.
Cuir d'Iris has a smoky harshness to it (the Oud, Patchouli, and Cedarwood), which reminds one of coal tar. It is not warm, sweet and enveloping as a great leather needs to be. It balances a line between a rough, uncured leather and uncured tobacco leaves. The use of the iris is very restrained but constantly present. A warm leather requires some violet in its make-up, but that is not present here.
Some of the early "cuir de russie" scents from the late 1890s and the early 1900s had this harsh, smoky, uncured effect, which made sense in those days of unhygienic body odors permeating society on all levels. This doesn't work for me, but it's a perfectly fine scent for those who want their leather this strong.
I'm in the camp of those not moved by this fragrance. I smell a very restrained leather on support of iris. Then massive fade out. Then slight stale booze in a taxi. I wish to have a deeper experience, but the composition eludes me.
Perfume evokes. It doesn't recreate nature and it doesn't tell stories. Successful perfumery creates richness and a complexity that allows for many possibilities, for varied experiences among wearers.
At the center of Parfumerie Generale's Cuir d'Iris is an active imbalance, a contest. From start to finish there's never a blend or compromise. The oil and the water never quite mix. I'm not speaking about the notes, iris and leather, but the forces that motivate this perfume. Together the potent tannic quality of the leather and the forceful, make-up feel of the iris give the scent a playful cruelty that simultaneously draws me in and keeps me at arms-length. Cuir d'Iris implies the savage civility of a kempt, bourgeoise western woman of the 1950s. Hair, make-up, perfume, attire and fur. Maintenance of appearance is just the stage dressing, a simple part of the toolkit of social ambition. For the woman that Cuir d'Iris pushes into my imagination, the fur is pivotal. It doesn't suggest the necessities of a cold climate. It connotes a symbolic viciousness, the conquering vulgarity of wearing a prize. It's the draping of status on the body. It's a warning.
But forget my insipid fantasy. What does a well made perfume do for you?
I tend to love the bolder leathers that others might call harsh. And perpetually forgetting the logic of Knize Ten, one of my favorite fragrances, I imagine the floral leathers' won't appeal to me, since the flower will diminish the boldness. Cuir d'Iris is another reminder of this blind spot. I don't have a specific test to judge a perfume's success. I'm willing to be convinced. If I had to find the common thread among the successful perfumes, though, it's that they remain interesting and appealing over hours and years. Each wearing is an interesting experience from start to finish and the perfume keeps me coming back over the years. I might have a story in my head, as the above fantasy/image. I could be relishing a mood. I might simply be enjoying the pleasures of a well-crafted object. The perfume doesn't supply a narrative, it's simply rich and well constructed. It's loaded. Connotation is the key, not story-telling. Cuir d'Iris has a complexity of construction and a range of dynamic qualities that suggests symbolic violence to me---the threat of a slap to the face. It's enticing. It's the lure of dangerous pleasure---that something beautiful that just might come back to bite you.
And so, my plea to the perfume producers. Give us perfumes with a richness of ideas. We'll take care of the rest. I'm far more likely to respond to (note: and buy) a perfume that springs from artistic creativity. I want to get taken for a ride by the perfumer, not the test-marketing group. There is a place for formula and strategy, but they should be tools and not goals. Forget briefs that boil down to: find the balancing point that offends the fewest and that a majority will tolerate.' Give me the arresting, give me the subtle, but give me a perfume that instigates and inspires. I want a perfume that says more than, Hey. I want legibility and nuance. Maybe the preliminary threshold in producing a perfume should be a riff on Tania Sanchez's rationale for wearing perfume: that it be significantly better than nothing at all.
My plea is for better perfume, not more elaborate marketing. I love Cuir d'Iris though I've never seen any advertizing for it. I'm very impressed with Calvin Klein's CK One Shock for Men despite its perfunctory, factory-formula promotion strategy. Niche perfumery doesn't solve the marketing dilemma of the mass markets. I see no distinction between the marketing of Beyoncé Pulse Summer Edition (Life is a flirt. Love is a game. 1) and Penhaligon's Sartorial, with notes that, create the perfect illusion of a tailor's workroom. 2 In both cases: words and perfume, no intrinsic association.
I recognize that there are market considerations and that on one level, Parfumerie Generale likely wanted a floral leather in their line. Iris aromachemicals were readily available and iris perfumes were in demand. But Cuir d'Iris works not because it filled the right slot. It works because perfumer Pierre Guillaume was in the position to make a perfume composed of precision-made parts and dripping with ideas. Cuir d'Iris is a gorgeous perfume that embodies both the steely and the extravagant. It lunges at you at the outset and although it cozies up to your skin quickly, it growls at you when you don't expect it.
To summarize, thank you Mr. Guillaume. As I hope you can tell, I'm having a blast with Cuir d'Iris. It captures exactly what I love about perfume.