Annick Goutal Encens Flamboyant & Parfumerie Generale Aomassai

Okay, sure, the House of Representatives voted down the Wall Street Bailout Rescue Bill, the DOW is plunging and financial analysts are tearing their hair out on live television (most likely because they weren't given that extra time to quit their jobs, seize their portfolios and sell sell sell!), but the world is still turning and there's perfume to be reviewed, goshdarnit!

But it's not like they cancelled Paris Fashion Week, either, so rest assured that this focus on the trivial is greatly exceeded by those with a much larger stake in the frivolity circus than any of us. Besides, when the economy is crumbling around you and the future is mired in uncertainties, don't you at least want to know that you can hold your head high, confident that you're the best smelling vagrant in the soup line?

A man must have his priorities.

ANNICK GOUTAL ENCENS FLAMBOYANT: part of Annick Goutal's Les Orientalistes collection, Encens Flamboyant starts off as really more of a spice scent than a flamboyant incense. Heavy on the black pepper and cardamom, it takes a little bit of time before the frankincense kicks into gear and takes over, but once it does, Encens Flamboyant becomes a mild, smoky scent without the usual churchy overtones.

I think Olivier Durbano's Black Tourmaline is winning my heart in the incense sweepstakes for the moment, but Black Tourmaline is dark and cold and strange, whereas Annick Goutal's Encens Flamboyant is just the opposite -- casual, approachable and comforting (and anything but flamboyant).

March at Perfume Posse writes: "It's not cold and aloof. It's ... well, it's very Annick. Peppery and spicy, with that fir note, I think it's incense as a walk in the cold, clean outdoor air. It's got excellent sillage - strong but transparent", Tom at Perfume Smellin' Things states: "It's not terribly heavy incense; there's no real weight to it, and I mean that in a good way. I can see getting a lot of mileage out of this one" and Lucy at Indie Perfumes notes: "Encense Flamboyant is dry herbal coolness above an incense that has burned away already, and the most trans-seasonal of the three (Les Orientalist fragrances)."

None of the above makes me want to rush out and buy a bottle (though it doesn't necessarily hold me back, either), but for the incense fanatic, Encens Flamboyant is an attractive and easy to wear option that can suit most any occasion, with the added benefit of wearing close enough to the skin to keep from gassing the entire room when you make your grand entrance.

It actually reminds me a little bit of Armani Prive Bois d'Encens at its finish, which is a quiet study in minimalist incense. Nice, but like I said, not very flamboyant.

PARFUMERIE GENERALE AOMASSAI: if there's one thing that Parfumerie Generale does well, it's the lobbing of curve balls. I've given up approaching a PG fragrance with any preconceptions, and I can say that my experience with the line has benefited greatly once I accepted that understanding the purpose of a PG fragrance is simply not my role in the grand scheme of things. My job is simply to accept and wear.

Aomassai only reinforces this line of thought.

It starts off as a gourmand, heavy with maple sugar and caramel but tinged with a bitter green note, almost as if some chopped celery were thrown into the bowl of caramel corn. This green note then transforms into a sappy, woody pine scent as the sugary notes burn off the skin.

Gina at The Non-Blonde writes: "The first thing I smell is Frangelico. A mix of booze and hazelnuts. It's rich and caramely, tempting with sweetness, yet the weirdness is there, somewhat medicinal, and can't be ignored. Later come spice and wenge wood, a note I adore. It keeps the liqueur feel and sweetness, though less foody by the end of it."

And she's right -- there is a definite oddness to the fragrance. It's off-putting yet fascinating, then off-putting again, then fascinating again, but amid all the off-putting and fascination, what it most definitely is NOT is easy to wear.

Aomassai does manage to smooth out as time goes on, adjusting its sharper edges and buffing down the prickly, sticking points so that what was overly sugared and simultaneously vegetal-bitter manages to straddle the line between sweet gourmand and woodsy. By the time it hits its stride several hours in, it's completely tossed out the bitter notes to result in a very high-end, sweet woods scent. It's not going to be everyone's cup of tea, but a true gourmand fan might very well cherish its every moment.

It is strange, though, how a fragrance that starts off so oddly could end up so feminine and delightful. If you can manage to stick with Aomassai through its roller-coaster of weird, you'll definitely find your reward at the end, but for me, personally, I find its caramel-vegetal beginning too distasteful to contemplate purchasing an entire bottle of the stuff.

The Non-Blonde is proof positive, however, that Aomassai has its fans.