Review: Liquides Imaginaires Peau de Bête — 4.0 points

I love horse riding. I love the thrill of galloping and the cool breeze that buffets my face, bringing the scent of grass, stables, and animalic sweetness of the beautiful beast. I have recently been reminded of that whirlwind of an experience as I tried Peau de Bête (Liquides Imaginaires, 2016). Its French name literally translates to ‘skin of the beast’, and I find that to be rather apt because of its rich animalic nature as the name would suggest. But it is in the accord with powdery woody sweetness that Peau de Bête has the element of surprise, turning what would otherwise be merely a blend of animalic tinctures into a memorable experience for me.

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Perfumer Carine Boin brilliantly orchestrates Peau de Bête around a theme that contrasts animalic sensuality and dry woods. In the opening, herbaceous chamomile, cumin, and leathery saffron conspire to suggest something racy. Soon, creamy animalic notes dominate, with civet and castoreum so rounded and smooth it seems as though they were a dark chocolate ganache. The puffs of civet, in particular, seems to pulsate throughout the development, and this reminds me of the civet in Jicky (Guerlain, 1889) but in a more soft-spoken manner.

The animalic richness soon finds its balance in the dryness of woods. Atlas and Texan cedarwood lend the characteristic powdery, sweet wood shavings, and it is accented by a smoky, woody touch of guaiac wood, patchouli, cypriol, and amyris. As the composition develops, its dry character becomes prominent. The animalic direction embraces musk and the crispness of ambergris, whilst the woods acquire the dry sweetness of vernal grass and styrax. Towards the end, Peau de Bête still maintains its juxtaposition of animalic and woody notes but with the accent falling on dryness.

The pairing of creamy animalic notes and dry woods creates an enjoyable sensation: at times rich and heavy, at others dry and aloft. It is the scent of animals, woods, and hay. Peau de Bête has the right balance that triggers a cherished memory for me. Though it sits quietly, it has an unapologetically animalic side that I would recommend trying it first if you have not had experience with animalic perfumes. Else, one could also layer it with florals to give a distinctive animalic richness, and I can vouch for its wonder with the bright geraniums of Égoïste (Chanel, 1990) or Géranium Pour Monsieur (Frédéric Malle, 2009). Nonetheless, Peau de Bête is just as sublime an equestrian portrait on its own.

Source: fragrantica.com

Review: Liquides Imaginaires Succus — 4.0 points

Despite what its Latin name might imply, Succus (Liquides Imaginaires, 2015) by perfumer Shyamala Maisondieu does not readily recall any kind of sap. The eclectic layers of fruity, herbal, and woody notes are far removed from the bitter green note typical of tree saps. Rather, they lend themselves to an arboreal fantasy, and I find myself wishing if only such a tree existed…

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What first strikes me is its fruity grapefruit note. It does recall grapefruit, but is not so much as citrusy, and has the sweet accent of pineapple. Its fruity top has a distinctive tone that intrigues me and that continues towards the dry down. And even if you, like me, are not so enthusiastic about fruity notes, you should still give Succus a try simply to see its interesting direction.

But unlike other perfumes that resort to hard sell with their top-note whirlwinds and end up being anti-climactic, the excitement of Succus continues. The next layer is a blend of rustic herb notes: rosemary, juniper berry, cedar leaf, and bay leaf. These are also interspersed with incense. The bright, camphoraceous character recalls that of Saltus (Liquides Imaginaries, 2015), another in the Eaux Arborantes series, but is not nearly as glaring. This layer of herbs creates a curious twist to the fruity grapefruit, and the pairing between these notes gives Succus a unique and enjoyable character that I cannot quite find a comparison.

But as the bright note of herbs dims, the composition reveals a luminous base of dry woods and radiant musk. Its vetiver harmonises with the accent of grapefruit and the cedarwood lends its distinctive note of wood shavings. The musk note here is rich, but also remains in keeping with the pleasant dryness. This dry woody and musky layer persists well on skin.

The idea of Succus revolves around a pleasant duel between grapefruit and herbs, but the composition also seemingly peels away from fruity and aromatic to woody layers. It certainly gives an interesting arboreal portrait, but more importantly this peculiar character is what keeps me coming back to it. A perfume that keeps one pondering is, I feel, a perfume worthy of exploration. Succus is one such composition that arouses curiosity; it leaves me wondering what that mythical tree would be. We surely need more compositions like this.

Source: moodscentbar.com

Review: Liquides Imaginaires Saltus — 3.5 points

Saltus (Liquides Imaginaires, 2015) has the character of fragrant resins derived from evergreen trees. Created by perfumer Shyamala Maisondieu, it captures a rich exudate, from the turpentine sharpness of an oozing sap to the musky treacle of a dried resin. Smelling it, I tend to think of Saltus as a close examination of nature.

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The emerging sap has short-lived green accents of cedar and eucalyptus leaves, and most of it is embodied by camphor. It has such an unprecedented brightness, to which I am unaccustomed in a perfume. I immediately think of Vicks VapoRub and find this comforting in a quirky way.

As the sap dries up, the camphor lessens. Now, one begins to glimpse its resinous depth. Styrax imbues the composition with smoky, spicy, and balsamic notes. Patchouli and incense enhance the character of resinous woods. Yet, the thick resins are surprisingly contrasted by the milky note of ethyl laitone. Musk and castoreum give their sweet animalic touch that also softens the sharp resins. The result is both resinous and rubbery. It is not loud, but it lasts well. For that, it takes some adjustment on my part to appreciate the strange duality.

Saltus offers an interesting portrait of an exudate that balances the two sides. On the one hand, it is bright and sharp; on the other, it is dusky and sensual. This I appreciate, but wearing it is another story. The sharp camphor-resin versus the soft animalic rubber may be the dynamic pairing of nature, but it is not easy. The old caveat applies: try it on first.

Source: liquidesimaginaires.com