CB I Hate Perfume Wednesday

After the unexpectedly crazy cool seduction of Ormonde Jayne Seraphim yesterday, I figured it might be a good time to catch my breath by focusing on some scents and accords from Christopher Brosius' CB I Hate Perfume line.

Brosius is a near note-perfect embodiment of what I would consider a contemporary American perfumer -- if he didn't already exist, then I would have had to invent him just to illustrate the point. He's a bit of an iconoclast ("fragrance takes itself far too seriously too much of the time"), kinda cranky ("The aldehydes in Chanel No. 5 make me puke") and unflinchingly direct ("I rarely smell new perfumes these days - there are just too many of them and too few that I find at all interesting"), character traits reflected in his vast fragrance line that consists of single scents, accords and a smattering of more complex perfumes.

When I first encountered the CB I Hate Perfume line, I didn't get it. It seemed the antithesis to what I understood perfume to be (and to be about), but as I've spent time slogging through more and more uninspiring and often derivative excuses for perfumery, I've come to appreciate Brosius' work for its deceptive simplicity.

I mean, have you ever been in a crowded elevator that slowly filled with the scent of a leafy, green forest while the other passengers look around themselves, kind of dazed and wondering if they're just imagining things? It's an experience to remember. So I've included some brief reviews of several of the CB items below, most of which are worth exploring.

GREENBRIAR 1968: Starts life as a poisonous mossy brew, but all's well that end's well and Greenbriar ends very well indeed with an earthy forest and sweet tobacco blend that replicates the memory-scent of your pipe smoking granddad and the old leather boots he used to leave in the front entrance after tromping around through the backwoods on a crisp, clear morning.

BURNING LEAVES: I grew up in a rural town in Michigan back when people still burned leaves in the fall. There were a lot of maple trees in Michigan, and this is pretty much an exact recreation of the smell from my childhood as I would walk home in the chill October evenings against a backdrop of bonfire smoke throughout the city. Brosius' Burning Leaves is not what I would consider a traditional perfume, but it's a beautiful charred scent that I love to wear.

SWEET SMOKE: A lighter, blonder rendition of Burning Leaves. More akin to woodsmoke mixed with incense. Good for layering with other fragrances that could stand a little smoky "oomph" in their base.

MUSK REINVENTION: In a 2005 interview, Brosius claimed that he loathed "the majority of synthetic musks" but that he had a number of accords he used in place of the foul smelling commercial variants: "Old Leather, Cistus, certain Ambers, White Truffle and Oakmoss can all be combined to give that beautiful deep rich sexy skin note that "musk" is supposed to evoke." I assume this is what constitutes Musk Reinvention, a dark and bordering on unpleasant scent if you only sniff it from the bottle; apply it to the skin, however, and it melts into the scent of your body, radiating a weirdly attractive odor of earth and animal pelts. Musk Reinvention is also terrific as a layering scent for other perfumes in your collection -- add a drop to your skin and it enriches and deepens whatever you pair it with, including those awful commercial synthetic musks.

IN THE LIBRARY: Never has a stack of books smelled so good. Rich vanilla (or is that vanillan?) that's as comfy as a high-backed leather chair in the library . . . until the butler walks in with a pot of very strong black tea. I don't drink tea -- the main reason being that I can't stand the way tea smells. Pity. I was really enjoying the fragrance up until the tea leaves entered the picture.

CB93: Oddly enough, all the woods and resins combine to create a spicy clove and cinnamon effect on my skin. With a scent note list that consists of Galbanum, Bourbon Geranium, Holy Basil, Siberian Fir, Scotch Pine, Moroccan Cedar, Candlewood, Frankincense and Sandalwood, a dive into the spice cabinet is the last thing I was expecting; unfortunately, that's all I got.

WILD HUNT: Hits its target dead on. Starts off all cool shadows and fresh leafy greens, then tracks the quarry to its warm, musky lair. A surprising cured tobacco quality (or is it spicy amber?) brings up the rear and makes for a precious few hours of love among the drydowns. Wild Hunt is the kind of fragrance that Brosius does best -- will freeze urban dwellers in their tracks as they wonder where in the hell that sweet, loamy, forest smell is coming from.

PATCHOULI EMPIRE: I've mentioned this fragrance before, but it bears revisiting. Five different patchouli essences blended to result in one supra-patchouli hero. Sinus clearing at the start, with smoky woods and black pepper down the homestretch. No sugar added. If you like the patch, you'll beg, borrow and steal for Patchouli Empire. Yes, I'm being hyperbolic, but not by much.

CB I Hate Perfume isn't for everyone -- the packaging is minimalist, the bottles are spare in their design (no swarovski crystals or ground glass stoppers) and Brosius doesn't futz around with the latest greatest trends (fruity florals? syrupy orientals? nuh-uh and no how!), but what he does offer is quality, creativity and transparency about the process and his craft.

Brosius also offers 2ml travel vials of a good portion of his scents and perfumes on his website. You might want to check him out if you haven't already.

***Note: the fragrances reviewed were all absolutes, except for Wild Hunt, which was the water version.

We now return to our regularly scheduled dissection of overblown fragrances. Hey, speaking of which, where did I put that other Roja Dove sample . . . ?