I’m not the type that swoons over leather fragrances and/or leather notes in fragrance. My nose translates them as a bit sour, no matter how floral, vanillic or smokey the surrounding landscape, which makes Laurie Erickson’s latest release a bit of a challenge.
On the one hand, working with leather notes in perfumery can be like working with civet — civet doesn’t smell good on its own and the balance has to be just right to get its nose-wrenching character to work for the good of the fragrance instead of just torpedoing it to the ocean floor. On the other hand, a spoonful of civet can make the flowers grow so wonderfully tall.
Listed fragrance notes are: cedar, sandalwood, tobacco, leather, vetiver, patchouli, clove, labdanum absolute, tonka bean, amber, vanilla and musk. The first two to three hours hover on the edge of too much leather for my nose (but if you’ll see my reviews for Reve en Cuir and Cuir Mauresque, you’ll notice that leather is a note my nose is very sensitive towards), but once the initial piss-and-vinegar calms itself down, Tabac Aurea blooms into a startlingly warm and complex interaction of wood, amber and musk notes, with a jammy berry that crops up in the homestretch.
I say “startling” because it’s almost shocking that a fragrance so rich and enveloping didn’t step off a steamer ship straight out of Italy or France. Sunny, new-world California gets bragging rights for this one.
While other reviewers have raved about a prominent tobacco experience, I don’t get that at all out of Tabac Aurea (and yes, I know, it’s even got tobacco in its title . . . go figure). My nose is too busy sniffing out the leather, patchouli, tonka, labdanum, cedar, amber, vetiver, vanilla and musk, and in my defense, that’s a lot to keep one nose busy.
Strangely enough, for its long list of potent ingredients, it doesn’t feel at all overstuffed or overdone. I’ve noted in previous reviews the admirable balance that Erickson achieves in her work. Tabac Aurea is no exception.
If you’re a fan of warm, woodsy fragrances with a dash of vanilla and a lashing of leather, you’re likely to get a huge kick out of Tabac Aurea; however, if you’re sensitive to the placement of leather notes in perfumes (like I am), you might possibly consider sticking with some of Ms. Erickson’s other works. For example, her Ambre Noir is brain-numbingly appealing — like a powder-puff dipped in a vat of burnt sugar. In the middle of a magic forest.
Oh, never mind what I’m doing in the middle of a forest with a bunch of powder puffs, just roll with it!
Added bonus: Tabac Aurea has a very healthy lifespan on the skin, and the longer you wear it, the more deeply intriguing it gets. But what I really want to know is, however did she manage to tuck that ripe, dark berry into what’s otherwise an ambered, woodsy drydown? Clever.
UPDATE:
Laurie Erickson herself has a blog entry up about the various ways in which people are experiencing her new Tabac Aurea. Give it a read: Tabac Aurea Reviews (and a note on scent individuality)
And for another opinion about the use of Leather in fragrances, check out this post from independent perfumer Liz Zorn: Leather Notes in Perfumery
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I had tried it and it reminds me of Ambre Russe, it’s got that wonderul, boozy-fruity quality that I don’t meet very often in perfumes. I don’t get a lot of leather, but do get a good portion of tobacco. The longevity is great!
Nika
In talking to other people about Tabac Aurea, one thing I’ve discovered is its ability to reveal different facets. For some (like me), it’s leather with woods and a jammy berry. For others, it’s tobacco and amber. While some, like yourself, get that boozy, golden, fruity quality that wraps itself around the wearer like the warmest, softest blanket.
Honestly, I think Laurie Erickson really pulled the rabbit out of the hat with this one. There’s so much depth to plumb . . . or plum!