Histoires de Parfums Noir Patchouli and Montale Louban

HISTOIRES DE PARFUMS NOIR PATCHOULI: Roars out of the gate like a sledgehammer on a patchouli bender and I’m thinking, “Uh-oh, this is going to get ugly” . . . but 90 minutes later, the patchouli has calmed down and the fragrance has taken a softer turn.

The Scented Salamander waxes nearly rhapsodic about Noir Patchouli, writing that “Noir Patchouli is one of those perfumes that make one irresistibly think of the sound of the crack of a whip as expressive of a perfume’s and woman’s sexiness. The end (drydown) suggests that she gives in to her more romantic side,” while the gang at Basenotes is far less impressed: “After a patchouli-based accord in the topnotes, the fragrance progresses to a rose heart and base without too much else going on. I’d say patchouli isn’t even noticeable after the first half hour, which is fine in a fragrance not named ‘patchouli noir’.”

I’m siding with the Basenotes crew on this one, except to note that the patchouli is still noticeable even several hours in, it’s just not as wickedly potent as it was in the first thirty minutes.

Noir Patchouli scent notes are listed as: patchouli, coriander, cardamom, floral bouquet, juniper berries, black pepper, musk, vetiver, oakmoss, leather, vanilla.

I get patchouli, vanilla and a slight bit of florals over a faint musk — the drydown is actually a very feminine vanilla-patchouli with hints of chocolate, so I think they’re just yanking our chain with all the rest of it.

MONTALE LOUBAN: I may just have to give up and surrender to the notion that Montale and I are not made for each other.

Louban is not awful or terrible by any means, it’s just . . . kind of the same-old same-old, as if the company went through the motions and dialed it in: “Wha? We need a new release? But don’t we have, like, six hundred and fifty on the market already? Okay, okay! We’ll release something new! I must have something stashed away in a drawer somewhere that will suffice.”

Montale has done this kind of incense, rose and oud routine before . . . many, many times before, so slapping a new name on it, then introducing it as a new scent, isn’t likely to fool anybody. That said, I will admit that the rose that emerges after a couple of hours on the skin is actually kind of nice — soft but dusky, and defiantly pleasant, as if to say, “Ha! Take that, Montale disbeliever!”

And is that a vanilla I’m sensing way back there in the distance? Oh, no, wait — that’s the Noir Patchouli getting a second wind and choking all the air out of the room. Never mind!

I think what I can appreciate about Louban is that the usual oud suspects are dialed down quite a bit (okay, dialed down “a lot”) so that it’s not the Brick Wall of Oud scent I’ve banged up against when testing Montale fragrances in the past. This makes it much more wearable for the average fragrance consumer in the long run, which is a smart move for Montale if they wish to increase market share in a topsy-turvy world.

God knows they have a lot of good to excellent competition out there.

So if you’re looking for a masculine, woodsy-rose fragrance (with maybe a fumey-oud undertone?), you could do a lot worse than Louban. Yeah, you could do a lot better, too, but still . . .

Note: Noir Patchouli has a good lifespan on the skin, while Louban has seriously faded into Barely-There land after three to four hours.