Please excuse the kind of, robotic, echo-y audio at times, I have no idea why that happened 
Let me know what you think of these vids by the way, if they’re clogging up my blog and I should keep them to YouTube and just use this for writing tell me so!!
Thanks for the support as always everyone
x
Hello!
Ok, I’m gonna crack straight on with this.
First of all: Happy New Year 
Now that’s out the way – here’s what I loved and discovered in 2012.
My Favourite 3 Fragrances in 2012:
Haute Claire (far too closely followed by Secret Garden) by Aftelier Perfumes. Both of these fragrances are a tie for me, completely different, but absolutely beautiful. The richest, most naturally grand florals I have smelt – truly beautiful, wearable and classic – timeless fragrances that will be with me for a long time. Outstanding!
Rubj EDP by Vero Profumo is simply awesome. A sexy, volumptuous floral with an unexpected, almost tropical/sour “fresh” slice of green passionfruit smothering it. Mouthwatering, huge, and an absolute necessity. Exceptional.
Miriam by Tableau De Parfums is a modern classic. It combines so many elements of fragrances I love into something seamless – the aldehydic resins of La Myrrhe, the aldehydic white floral/incense combo of No.22, various fragmented particles of classic Tauer’s such as the bay of Un Rose Chypree, the violet/iris of Pentachord White… I can go on… but it is its own being – Miriam is gorgeous.
Most Unexpected Beauty:
M/Mink by Byredo completely took me by surprise. After months of thinking I hated it (after trying it only twice on paper) – I found it’s evolution on the skin absolutely captivating. Whilst I still struggle to wear it, when I finally accept that it’s a beeswax/incense/patchouli and not the fishy atrocity that my mind conjurs up – I love it.
New Talent:
Mangetic Scent is an awesome line. Indigo was one of my sampling highlights of the year and I can’t wait to get my hands on a full bottle. The packaging is beautiful, the fragrances are truly brilliant and I can’t wait to see what this guy comes out with next 
Best Marketing and Packaging:
In all honesty, O’Driu is pretty pompous and poncy (a little cringeworthy at times)… but judging the brand through it’s products, marketing and advertising – it owns. Not only have they kicked off massively solely from threads on Basenotes, the gorgeous sample packages were handed out extremely generously, and the packaging is fantastic. I love the boxes stuffed with feathers and hessian, the advertising images are beautiful, the bottles are solid (although a bit wierd, when you buy 50ml, you get 50ml in a 100ml bottle…), and I like the atomizers (but wouldn’t use it – evapouration and all that shit). All in all, kudos to you O’Driu.
Oh and just in the category of advertising, Lady Gaga’s Fame commercial was brilliant (there, I said it)… as we all know, the fragrance was piss poor.
Sad To See Go:
Eau D’Epices got discontinued this year – which gave me a little heartache… but it’ll be back next year I believe so no big deal 
I guess it’s removal from the market re-trigged my admiration for this challenging composition. I will get it when it returns!
A list of other fragrances I loved in 2012:
Iris Silver Mist
Sepia
Bosque
Chypre Rouge
Musc Maori
Putain Des Palaces
Ambra Nera
CDG EDP 2011
Bolt Of Lightning/Fermes Tes Yeux/Jarling
Tawaf
Ok so you might be wondering where all the hate is here? In all honesty – there’s too many to write about and compile into neat categories, so I’m just gonna real some off and get the dirty stuff over with…
Crap of the year:
Seville A L’Aube (loved smelling the ingredients that went in it… didn’t like ‘em all together…)
Serge Noire/L’Eau/L’Eau Froide/Nuit De Cellophane (obvious reasons)
BEX (the write ups that started the trouble)
Sentifique (words can’t describe these fragrances… so I won’t try)
Jean-Claude Ellena’s Dreary Diary (and most of his work)
Seven Veils (I still re-live the nightmare of when it hit my skin)
Jovoy (the line, not the shop)
Blah blah blah – I have a terrible memory and the list could go on forever, trust me. That’ll do for now
So yes – every bloggers doing these in far more detail so there’s my little two cents. Thanks for the support everyone <3<3<3
Freddie x
Oh, and some perfect music… just because
The new fragrance from Mandy Aftel…
Wild Roses opens with a hugely complicated blast of… well, rose – a clean tea rose, a spiced jammy rose, a hit of cracked pepper – a touch of syrupy anise, a cold eucalyptus and a heavy, bitter-sweet, fruity apricot that verges on peach. It is so overwhelming and rich it almost smells boozy up top – but not with the dense, alcoholic and almost sticky quality that boozy accords tend to have.
The anise vanishes pretty quickly (but leaves a subtle fennel accord behind), the cool mentholated aspects begin to settle, but the fuzzy apricot dominates, paired with a rose unlike anything else I’ve tried – such a huge blend of textures, spices and colours that rounds out into one purely translucent floral. A herb basket rises up underneath the roses adding a bitter, culinary edge of coriander (along with the fennel) – with an extremely restrained powdery/almond quality that I assume is heliotrope? The mentholated aspect which I thought was eucalyptus evolves into a herbal geranium – a note I’ve begun to love. It adds a cool, medicinal layer underneath the warmth of the roses, but still keeping the rose flavour pungent – adding a greener quality to them.
The geranium, rose basket and herbal notes get dizzying, hints of warm, subtle clove and the heat of pepper (a note I only recognize from Piment Brulant, and in Aftelier’s own Shiso) add even more little nuances that dart in and out of focus. At times I mistake the spice for carnation, and at others, a richly indolic jasmine similar to Secret Garden – a slightly resinous floral of orange blossom also makes an appearance, but all pushed out of view by the abstract rose. The turkish rose takes over the greener geranium notes in the heart, adding a more powdery, candied aspect to the florals without it ever being sweet – but still, hints of ripe fruit plump up the petals. What at first was apricot, now seems to have morphed into a plum – adding a fleshy, golden, dried fruit quality.
A patchouli arrives and gets louder after half an hour or so on the skin, and I’m convinced the jasmine is still there. The patchouli has the slightly smoky, rich and earthy quality that I have grown to love from the late drydown of Secret Garden – it’s a head spinning note and it almost seems to have an animal quality to it. A drop of civet in the base seems to be enriching both the patchouli and the roses - or the indole used in Sepia that seems to bring to life florals with an animalic, narcotic richness is at play.
The drydown manages to keep the rose and indole intact, along with the stewed fruit quality of apricot remains and wine-y plums, the earthiness of the patchouli creating a solid base, it all gives the fragrance a “mulled” feeling – boozy again. The animal quality is tame, but it’s there – it makes Wild Roses melt in a warm, human layer – enhanced by a growing, soft woody sweetness of vanillic benzoin. At times it seems to vanish during it’s heart, but when I pull my nose back again, it is out in full force – it is such a shapeshifter of a fragrance, but with a solid personality that remains true from start to finish, it just decides to play around with you whilst you try to figure it out.
Wild Roses is beautiful. A rose perfume that without a doubt stands above the hundreds of generic rose fragrances out there that seem to do little to the actual rose notes themself, and instead just build support around the singular essence. Here, the perfumer takes a rose and gives it a hundred faces – it becomes a rose that is spicy, fruity, sheer, boozy, herbal and green all at once. The fragrance is about the roses themselves and everything they can be, and are, and I love that. It can hardly be considered a rose soliflore, a portrait of a rose, or a landscape – it is a holograph if anything. A spiced, fruity floral that replaces expected candied sweetness with bitter herbs and raw earth – it sums up what Mandy’s perfume’s are all about. Wonderful
Wild Roses 30ml EDP Aftelier – $170 www.aftelier.com
Tango opens with a spiced orange. Deep and intense, not quite juicy – but more like dried peel, spiked with clove, pepper and warm ginger – and all wrapped up in a veil of dense smoke. The base notes rise up quickly: a glowing, golden brown blend of tobacco, vanilla and sweet coffee - lacquered with a balsamic, resinous honey-like glaze. It’s overwhelming and complicated, but silky smooth and indulgent.
The floral heart of champaca plays a leading role – a note that is glorious to smell in full force, rather than diluted to something almost tea-like and “pretty”. It’s herbal but rounded, sweet and spicy with specks of rose, orange blossom and an almost osmanthus-like fruitiness. The coffee, that smells almost lactonic due to the vanillic tonka underneath, entwines with the floral notes and the mystery smoke to take it away from gourmand territory but still makes my mouth water.
The smoke isn’t birch tar, and only a little of it seems to come from the tobacco – instead, the perfumer lists “choya” – the natural aroma of toasted seashells. Whether this plays on my imagination (as I can only dream of what this raw material smells like!) – the salted marine note of it really seems to push forward, in an almost ambergris-like holographic way. The smoke is smooth and abstract, it doesn’t smell of burnt wood, coal or tar – but blended with the other ingredients it comes across as a delicately smoked cream – the coffee pushing this vision further. The outcome is a blend of sweet, floral smoke, a dash of spice and a vanillic almost lactonic woody note that combine to make something that flickers between the scent of an imaginary, exquisite latte, and the sexy scent of someone’s skin which has lapped up the salty sea and sun. It’s contrast between the gourmand notes and the almost human warmth of the smoke, sweet milk and what I think is patchouli and civet in the base, bring to mind the more simplistic Musc Maori that feels similar to me (in the sense that it combines gourmand notes with animalic musk to turn it into something sexy and not-quite edible). It’s this teasing which makes the scent so appealing and keeps my nose glued to my skin.
The drydown is a sweet (I keep using this word – Tango is not particularly sweet but the bitterness of notes such as tobacco, smoke, coffee etc. keep it completely counterbalanced), honeyed, smoky tobacco, a slightly salty muskiness, vanilla and woods – with the delicate cream of the floral coffee clinging to the base for many hours. Tango gets more delicious each time I wear it and I think my sample will be completely drained as soon as Winter draws nearer and nearer – I may need a bottle of it to get me through the cold months. It is a fragrance that can be warming and homely, or mysterious and sexy – polar opposites I know but you’ll just have to try it to understand! Beautiful as always.
Tango 30ml EDP Aftelier – $170 www.aftelier.com
The opening note of Lumiere is listed as “Phenyl ethyl acetate”. I always though that was an aroma chemical not derived from natural plant extracts, but there we go I learnt something new – it is in fact a natural isolate. Now, when I first saw this note listed I thought – “What the hell does that smell like” – but rummaging around in my perfumery draws full of samples and other random bits, I find a big bag of aroma chemical samples I have diluted in perfumer’s alcohol. Thankfully, I found it! So I thought I’d include my individual thoughts on this aroma chemical firstly, so I don’t have to explain it in-depth and clog up the review:
Phenyl Ethyl Acetate smells initially of honeyed pears. It has a perfect pear note that so few fragrances that actually attempt it, succeed at. The honeyed notes are floral, clear and clean – with a cool aroma that makes the fruit almost smell glaced. The floral notes are heavily pollinated (I say heavily although the aroma is light and ethereal), and dominated by rose. There is a slightly creamy, white floral aroma too that reminds me of magnolia – with that slight citric edge. The most simplistic way to describe it would be “pear drops”, but simplified and more pure smelling – it’s lovely.
Lumiere opens exquisitely rich – with the phenyl ethyl acetate aroma amped up to become denser and more exotic. The honeyed notes remind me a little of linden blossom, spiked with a dash of pepper. The honeyed floral notes begin to settle quickly, as Lumiere becomes clearer and lighter on the skin. All of a sudden a completely smooth, floral canvas lies underneath the evaporating remains of the opening – the texture is like that of clear water – but not at all thin or overly transparent.
The honeyed pears of the opening are a mere memory after ten minutes or so, but the sweet residue is carried to the heart by a tiny smidge of honeysuckle which in honesty I’d struggle to notice if it weren’t for the nudge by the notes. Lumiere’s heart is almost impossible to describe, it is a clear, translucent, semi-sweet aroma, whose base isn’t oriental, floral, vegetal or woody – it’s presence is almost a sensation rather than a scent – which leads me to believe the ambergris is at play a little bit here!
The listed blue lotus makes sense when I think about Secret Garden (my Aftelier true love!), Lumiere is like the scent of the pond in the secret garden – ever so slightly floral, aquatic without being chemical, salty or ozonic. The scent of green tea is also calmed to a point where it merely adds a colour, and I feel like I smell I little osmanthus in here, maybe even a tiny hint of jasmine grandiflorum, but I may be wrong. A slight, citrus floral keeps the fragrance light with a little texture – and I find myself typing this slowly as though any abrupt movement will shatter the development of Lumiere on my hand! It’s extremely delicate and refined, to a point where it’s making me nervous writing about it - that shouldn’t be perceived as a negative by the way. This fragrance is unlike anything else in the Aftelier line and it’s amazing how much light the perfumer has managed to give these often overwhelming natural essences.
Lumiere reminds me of the sort of perfume By Kilian were trying to achieve with their Asian Tales series (which was a massive flop in my opinion); where those fragrances were overlaid with hideous attempts at bamboo, tea and imaginary flowers but ended up as aquatic colognes, Lumiere manages to hold on to it’s clarity and remain captivating throughout.
A subtle smoke finishes Lumiere - a trail of incense to signal it’s disappearance, but it will slip underneath your nose over the next couple of hours when you least expect it. I’m not sure how comfortable I am wearing Lumiere, it’s light and translucency is something I’m not normally attracted to, but I can’t help but say this is one of the most impressive examples I’ve seen of this style of perfumery – and I know it was a huge change for the perfumer having sniffed so much of her other work. It’s exquisitely composed with such an understanding of the materials that I find it a little too delicate for someone like myself to pull off, but how beautiful it could smell on someone elses skin!! – it’s a haunting perfume that has an almost invisible presence but an exquisite aroma – one that has even left me stumped for words on how to describe it. One of a kind.
Lumiere 30ml Aftelier – $210 www.aftelier.com
Haute Claire has a pungent opening that brings to mind the overwhelming honeyed intensity of Onda EDP by Vero Profumo - which I love!! But Haute Claire isn’t all honey. A bitter-sweet citrus of oranges and limes, sweetened and thickened into a marmalade consistency, is paired with a narcotic overload of ylang ylang. The ripe, slightly green banana hit up top smells almost pickled – cut through the centre by some bitter galbanum.
It smells fresh, in an almost clinical fashion: sterile and intense. A honeyed floral (listed honeysuckle) sweetens Haute Claire with a pollen overload – the honey ever so slightly urinous, is ”prettied up” with the ylang ylang and sharpened with the green underneath. The citrus remains prominent, now a crystal clear candied lemon drop, giving the weight of the florals great lift and life. Holy smokes it’s beautiful.
Haute Claire is the magnificent aroma of a garden, in some beautiful sunny country, concentrated to something barely recognizable. As the honeysuckle tames in its intensity, the banana notes of ylang-ylang evaporate and leave behind the leading floral alone – whether it’s a mirage or not, I get a creamy, lemon-y magnolia in the mix too. The green underneath becomes earthier - the vetiver coming into focus, sweetened with dark, sticky vanilla.
The thing I love about the ylang-ylang lead, is that it hasn’t been given a tropical treatment. There’s no tuberose, or coconut, or tiare spread over it – it doesn’t smell like suntan lotion or a cocktail – in fact I find it quite indescribable. As it settles, each note is given room to be appreciated – but with that almost resinous bite that these botanical ingredients all seem to possess, anchoring the florals into a deep base of vetiver.
There’s not much more to say. Haute Claire is one of the richest, most luxurious florals I’ve smelt. It is classic, but in a timeless fashion – with a gleaming clarity in its heart (after the almost avant-garde intensity of the opening). I know I constantly rant and rave about the Aftelier’s as if I’m being paid to, but they work for me, what can I say. Beautiful – a bottle of this needs to be in my wardrobe for Christmas
Haute Claire 30ml Aftelier Perfumes – $170 aftelier.com
Parfum Prive - a fragrance Mandy Aftel created for herself, but loved it so much, she decided to release it.
Made up of hugelyyyyyy expensive ingredients, this little beauty costs a small fortune, but, it smells like a small fortune too, just like all of Aftelier’s work :)
Parfum Prive opens with what I’ve begun to describe as “a natural fizz”. All these natural fragrances by Mandy have this signature which is so hard to identify, it just becomes a texture. It’s nothing like an aldehydic fizz, it’s more like – a buzz of energy coming from the ingredients
Anyway – at the start, I get a tickle of pink pepper, a green, leafy spice which I can’t quite identify, a quick flash of bergamot - and the intense floral underneath.
The florals are listed as osmanthus and orange flower. I have had bad experience with osmanthus - wondering where the hell I’d find one that actually smells good, well, it smells good here. Whether it is the sole personality of the flower, or what it smells like combined, it seems to have a slightly medicinal hit up top with the fruity apricot aroma (that is most often associated with), full and “jammy” in texture – unlike the flat translucency of the poor attempts I have smelt from Serge Lutens and The Different Company for example.
The orange flower is heady and intense – almost turning resinous as it smells in its raw form. This, along with the osmanthus, together give off a bitter almost stewed tea like aroma, herbal and botanical but still perfume-y and floral. Parfum Prive’s concentration smells intense, and it gives these florals an overwhelming power and personality, but thankfully, up close rather than at a distance. It draws you in closer to discover everything in-depth.
The natural ambergris at the base, well that also must be at some high doses. In an attempt to compare and understand, I’ve smothered my arms in natural ambergris tinctures of different varieties, generously gifted from a lovely Basenoter friend. I had no idea these came in colours, but to me it smells most like the “Silver” tincture I have, only, that is in 1% – here in Parfum Prive this musky marine aroma overwhelms in what so many describe as “holographic” which I never really understood until I smelt this fragrance. Ambergris’ presence is hard to detect if you’ve no familiarity with its scent. Describing it as I just have, as basic as “musky and salty” makes it sound like it has a heavy density, but it’s relatively translucent – and gives more of a texture and a feel – it creates this kaleidoscopic (a word I am using too much of in these Aftelier reviews) sheen over each note, morphing it into something that smells ethereal… but not. It’s hard to describe, and appreciate – until you smell what it can do.
Anyway, before I ramble on like I actually know what I’m talking about - back to Parfum Prive. So it remains relatively linear, an ongoing, long-lasting, green, musky portrait of ambergris. A portrait? Maybe not quite, but it stands solidly in the centre and manages to make the more overt floral aromas highlights of the musk. Oh! I haven’t even mentioned the ambrette - an ingredient I have little experience with – it is a clean, musky scent with a slightly fatty texture. Of course yet again, I’m not going to pretend like I know a ton about this ingredient. But, it makes me understand the construction of this a little more.
In Parfum Prive you have the prickle of pepper to lift it off the skin initially (the spice), the jammy, fleshy, tea-like osmanthus (the fruit), the heady almost resinous orange flower (the floral), the vegetal musk of ambrette (the dense musk) all tied together with this multi-coloured ambergris – it’s a miniature landscape of textures and colours harmonizing into a little perfect drop of yellow juice. A simplistic composition at first glance, but a fragrance composed with a talented hand, and the most exclusive natural aromas the nose can smell!
As always, beautiful work.
Parfum Prive 2ml Aftelier – $125 aftelier.com
Parfum Prive 1/4 oz solid Aftelier – $415 aftelier.com
Shiso opens intensely bitter and pungent. A papery texture gives way to the raw, vegetal aroma of green pepper, paired with a savoury non-edible mint note. The pepper has an almost chilli-like heat to it, maybe a crack of black pepper.
The almost sour green notes are paired with the medicinal, enveloping aroma of cloves. Dusty, extremely spicy and warm.
Whilst the top notes begin to settle (but only very slightly), a warm aroma of cinnamon fills up Shiso, that green pepper on top still going strong. The clove and cinnamon are relatively culinary, but it’s not appetizingly edible. It’s complicated and confusing – an extremely challenging spicy green chorus, completely non category specific.
The heat thankfully cools ever so slightly when a pine aroma creeps into the fragrance. The curried spices almost begin to replicate the challenging side of immortelle - only without the powerful maple sweetness – it is the bitter spicy remains of the flower that the cinnamon and clove manage to re-produce. Unusual from the get-go, Shiso never unfolds into something straightforward, I find it unlike anything else I have tried, and extremely challenging on my skin – but so compelling I can’t help but keep sniffing.
So the heart of Shiso is just that: a subtle smooth pine, the vegetal remains of green pepper, a slightly “off” mint note, and piled on top of that the raw heat of cinnamon and dry cloves. The most delicate green floral seems to make a short appearance, but I find it impossible to identify underneath the aggressive notes that dominate.
Ever so subtly underneath, is the compelling aroma of Mandy’s natural oud, an unexpected inclusion that comes across as almost ethereal, unknowingly smoothing out the rougher edges from the heart. I find it almost a relief when this comes into Shiso as it gives me some familiarity and comfort. The same goes for the richly sweet sandalwood and earthy patchouli combination in the later drydown; it is without a doubt my favourite part of Shiso, and it’s a challenge for me to get there – but a hugely intriguing, compelling and complicated ride.
The life of Shiso is long – its extreme personality remaining true to the opening from start to finish. What I mean by that is, if you love the beginning, you won’t be disappointed – the heart and drydown bring many more twists and turns in really unexpected directions (of course if you’re reading this I’ve spoilt it for you ). I couldn’t have ever imagined even smelling a fragrance like this, it compiles notes on top of each other that are so unpredictable and maybe unappetizing – but it manages to pull it off – just.
For me, I personally find it unwearable – just like when many people say “I can appreciate it, but I can’t wear it”, and I don’t want that to put anybody off (after all – this is the type of fragrance I love to write about). It is without a doubt one of the most avant-garde, complicated fragrances I have smelt and I will recommend it to many.
Brilliantly bizarre.
Shiso 30ml Aftelier – $170 aftelier.com
Muse opens deep and resinous before a huge hit of uplifting lime bursts to the surface. It has a juicy, yuzu-like sour side, a bitter-sweet citrus that is both herbal, and acidic. I always think that lime is such an under-used opening – the usual bergamot and occasional treat of orange are the standard, but lime’s presence on the skin is fantastic and playful. The fresh-cut wedge of sweet/sour fruit is familiar and dense – almost like a lime marmalade in its texture.
The juicy stain of lime pulls its way into the heart – where the wonderful smooth clary sage is given centre stage above the resins. Now, I’m not going to pretend that I have a great deal of experience and familiarity with clary sage – in honesty, I have only ever smelt it paired with vanilla. Here however, it has this enveloping, herbal aroma that brings to mind the camphorous and comforting lavender, the similarly herbal tone of rosemary (which is to come out in more force later), with a fuzzy mossy note that gives it a plush texture on the skin. Similarly to the lime, it has a bitter/sweet scent that when paired, play off each other in a battle of fizziness, sour accords, bitter hebal aromas and somehow a mellow texture. I find that the clary sage has an almost creamy undertone to it – a rich but subdued aura that acts like a herbaceous milk on the skin.
The resinous base is paired with a more pungent rosemary – it blends seamlessly from the clary sage in the heart so that the transition is unrecognizable. The slightly camphorous edge retreats, and allows the fresh, botanical notes of the heart to be pulled into the base. A large dose of labdanum provides the substance of the resinous accord. Whenever I smell labdanum I visualise it as a deep black, shiny lacquer, smeared on the base of the fragrance. It has a never-ending density to it with a pungent, dark amber aroma – it gives off sparks of peppery frankincense, rich and slightly sour animalic leather, raw woody undertones high in power - and an oud like personality (but not scent).
With this labdanum entwined with the rosemary, clary sage and the memory of lime, you’d expect Muse to be overwhelming – instead (maybe helped by its presentation as a solid) it’s a harmoniously balanced botanical fragrance.
The full-bodied base sweetens slightly – maybe a little benzoin? The sweet fuzzy clary sage and the slightly medicinal rosemary, still cling onto the freshness of the opening lime. The composition is quite simplistic, and the perfumer says that you can use it to layer fragrances and add a resinous warmth – I think it is perfect on its own. Relatively quiet in time and close to the skin, the presence of Muse lasts and lasts. I actually visualise Muse as “Aftelier’s signature” – whether it is the kaleidoscopic textures and facets of natural ingredients or whether it is Mandy Aftel’s clever hand with them, I almost feel like there is a smidge of Muse in every one of her works.
Muse is a great introduction to the Aftelier line, and as with all her fragrances, almost impossible to classify. In one way it is a rich amber oriental (as the perfumer herself describes) – at other times it is an almost highly distorted fougere? Where the lavender aroma rises from the rosemary, the oakmoss depth is pulled from the clary sage, and the tonka combined from the ambery/woody sweetness. I’m sure this is a bit far-fetched, but it came to mind. Whatever it is, it is yet another fragrance in the lineup where each ingredient is chosen with an artistic mind, blended to create something faultless. Fantastic work.
Muse 1/4 ounce solid Aftelier Perfumes – $210 aftelier.com
