When word of a new release by Nasomatto began surfacing back in April, I took some interest, but not a lot. I found the descriptions overly coy, with references to smuggling and hashish, and the last thing in the world I had any interest in smelling like was some blissed-out back room off an alley in Marrakesh (or some dank stoner’s basement somewhere in the U.S.) — not to mention that the then upcoming Black Afgano was being compared to Nasomatto’s Duro, a fragrance that hits all the wrong buttons for me — so I took a mental pass.
***Note: I may have a strongly negative reaction to Duro (it’s nothing but a tin can of kerosene on me), but really, it’s not a matter of life and death, and my opinion about it is dramatic for the sake or entertainment — so if you adore Duro and it smells great on you, more power to ya. Now get off of my cloud.
But as I read more copy regarding Black Afgano in the months following, I began to hear words that I liked: resinous, smoky, incense, wood, tobacco, coffee — each one of them tripping the wire that alerts the scent hedonist, curled up with a good book and a jug of wine, at the center of my brain’s personal Kubla Khan.
So I suppose it was inevitable that a bottle should wind up gracing the master bath countertop at Chez Moi — wait, Nasomatto is an Italian perfume brand, so maybe what’s being graced is actually the master bath countertop at La Mia Casa . . . ? However it’s phrased, Master Bathroom Countertop + Nasomatto Black Afgano = Unbridled Happiness.
Nasomatto is a fragrance house that doesn’t believe in releasing official scent notes as a guide for consumers (JAR is another brand that eschews listing scent notes in favor of letting consumers simply experience the fragrances without scent-note preconceptions), but that doesn’t stop the chorus of internet voices from guessing — here’s what I’ve gleaned from my rounds so far:
1000 Fragrances: “The main note of the perfume seems to be immortelle absolute wrapped in incense, cedar, caramel – coffee – chicory (ethyl maltol, furaneol, melilot, fenugrec, etc) and some aromatic unusual and almost pungent herbs.”
Urban Daddy: “Go ahead, spray a little and take a whiff. Breathe in the top notes of coffee, leather, the illegal drug trade and, of course, danger.”
Worse Than Weeds: “Black Afgano has a trace resemblance to (Nasomatto) China White . . . both seem to share similar greenish and civet-y … aspects. The other predominant note for me in Black Afgano is vetiver — and plenty of it . . . The vetiver here is earthier, darker … and it dries down a little smoky and leathery, with noticeable patchouli mid-drydown and a mild but sweetish orange-like citrus opening hit that seems to reemerge again later . . . “
Now Smell This: “the fragrance opens with strong aromas of “dirty” cedar (added cumin?) and musk. There is also a hint of wood-scented cigarette smoke in the opening minutes of the fragrance … (the) mid-phase of development comes closest to smelling like marijuana with a dry, herbal-leafy accord (think cured tobacco) tinged with a sweet ‘sweaty’ note. As the scent dries down, there’s a brief moment of funky-furry musk, then … vanillic-amber-y with a touch of patchouli.”
British Beauty Blogger: “Why is it black? Because it contains tobacco, coffee, oud and hashish.”
I personally find Black Afgano to be a pleasant (though initially tarry), burnt-sugar take on the smoky incense genre. There’s nothing particularly druggy or illicit about its scent, and I’ve already received several compliments while wearing it, along the lines of: “What’s that nice incense smell?”
Louise noticed the amber/sugar base coat instantly (she mentioned that she found the sweetness “cloying” for her own tastes, but that it would smell fantastic on her husband), and loved the resinous, smoky layers hovering above. There’s definitely a smooth woodsy quality to the proceedings, which signals the proper (and rightful) return of patchouli in its natural form as opposed to the light, airy patchoulis we’ve been suffering lately.
Several reviewers have noted that Black Afgano has little sillage yet excellent longevity, and while it’s true that it doesn’t linger in the air after you’ve left, it definitely makes itself known when you’re standing in one place for more than thirty seconds at a time. I was out getting fresh flowers yesterday and the girl behind the counter at the open air flower shop mentioned that she smelled a beautiful incense and asked if it were me. I was amazed. I said, “You’re surrounded by flowers, traffic, tourists and the smells from the market, yet you noticed the fragrance I’m wearing?”
So the juice has a definite presence, and I’ve yet to bump into anyone who doesn’t like it. Well, anyone who doesn’t like it on me. Score one for Nasomatto. This is the first bottle of theirs I’ve purchased, as it’s the first one of their fragrances that speaks to me — and trust me, it doesn’t sound anything like Duro.
The bottle itself is striking in its dark color scheme. The oversized cap is a genuine deeply-stained wood, and yes, the liquid inside the bottle is black — or, at the least, a very dark, charred brown, so it goes without saying that it’s probably not the best idea to spray Black Afgano directly on your clothes.
The silver label gleams and the thick glass catches the light for a silvery effect, so the piece looks good sitting on a table, shelf or counter. The atomizer sprays a very fine mist, though it does tend to leak a bit while spraying — this is a common problem I have with atomizers, even good ones. The mist may be fantastic, but I still get perfume running down my fingers by the time I’m done.
The package also includes a very small, slim, black plastic cap to substitute for the oversized wood cap when I’m traveling and need to fit the bottle easily into a one-quart ziploc baggie for airport security screening. Using the plastic travel cap may deflate some of the visual drama, but it’s a considerate addition.
The box is made of black cardboard — nothing special. It gets the job done without adding greatly to the expense of the overall product. The Nasomatto brand is pricy enough as is without going all By Kilian on us.
But back to the fragrance itself, there’s much talk about how perfumer Alessandro Gualtieri spent several years experimenting with actual Afghanistan hashish (even “smuggling” it to his lab) in order to make a perfume that either features the essence of hashish or smells somewhat like the stuff, but that strikes me as more a fantasy story that’s good for generating hipster buzz — and the hipsters are buzzing, make no mistake about that, so the story is doing its duty, overblown exaggeration or not.
I’m just thrilled that Black Afgano exists. It may be part and parcel of the new Look Eastward trend in which the entire fashion industry appears to be presently engaged, but as such, it offers a welcome exoticism (maybe even classicism) that softens Gualtieri’s often sharply modern approach to perfumery. If Nasomatto’s Narcotic Venus was too much a Foghorn Leghorn of a tuberose for the delicate souls among us to bear, then Black Afgano makes up for the ruckus by whispering through the air on a curling plume of grey smoke.
So to sum up: burnt-sugar incense + tobacco smoke; dramatic bottle; compliments from strangers; first Nasomatto I’ve loved.
I didn’t purchase a single fragrance when I was in NYC over the last weekend, even though I was surrounded by bottles, brands and fragrance hounds on a bender in the basement of Bergdorf Goodman. If they’d only carried Nasomatto Black Afgano, the situation would have turned out differently.
***Note: okay, I have to make a slight correction to the above statement. I didn’t purchase a single fragrance for *myself* when I was in NYC over the last weekend. I did, however, pick up a bottle of Serge Lutens Nuit de Cellophane for Louise, and a bottle of JAR Jarling for Julie. Both are dearly loved and appreciated in their respective homes.
