Sometimes I wish that I could just recuse myself from judging a scent. What in the hell is a guy whose current favorite scent is Bleu de Chanel doing judging new, breakaway Nasomatto? It makes me wonder why I’m even here. Maybe I should just go back to the lab and once again judge the smell of lab chemicals – issuing my self-important pronouncements as a molecular Moses – the verdict of clean and unclean being duly noted and forgotten by whoever else happened to be stuck in the lab on Saturday afternoon.
Well – whatever. The show must go on. So to explain what Nasomatto’s new scent, Pardon, smells like, things are going to get messy. Very messy. You see, the scent that Pardon most reminds me of, doesn’t even smell like Pardon. In truth, their greatest shared value is simply that they’re equally enigmatic.
Pardon does not find parallels easily. It opens with a touch of dark, rich wood, oud, and incense, together with a really nice floral. The floral is more “pink” than red to my nose, perfectly in keeping with Nasomatto’s ad copy for Pardon. Still – overall – the general feel had me thinking of Tom Ford’s Black Orchid. Not surprising that one Black Orchid lover I know has fallen for Pardon.
As the richness and complexity of the scent take hold, a certain gourmand character becomes evident. The warmth – the spices – it’s the edge of edible. At that point, Pardon almost seems like L’Instant Pour Homme Extrême.
Clearly there is some (pardon the word) “mainstreaming” going on here – right? I mean – coming from a line with things like Duro and Hindu Grass, a Guerlainish gourmand is a bit unexpected. So – is normal the new extreme? Or is Pardon going all gentlemanly on us? Well… maybe.
There are also some nice pine notes that play well with the rich and the sweet. I was definitely feeling a bit of Fou d’Absinthe here. Nice. I get a very old-school, artistic vibe from Fou. L’Artisan even advertises Fou with a graphic of the poet’s pen.
And a poem would not be misplaced here. As my friend Deedee pointed out, Pardon’s pink, solarized dandy, seems to be styled on a painting of the famous dandy, Comte Robert de Monesquiou.
Comte Robert de Monesquiou
Said gentleman was a poet, although, to borrow from Wikipedia, “His poetry has been called untranslatable, and was poorly received by critics at the time.” Personally, I find it neither bad nor untranslatable. Even Google does a fairly decent job these days – enough that the words can be pimped up to artsy by the average reader:
Hymne à la nuit
Le mystère des nuits exalte les cœurs chastes !
Ils y sentent s’ouvrir comme un embrassement
Qui, dans l’éternité de ses caresses vastes,
Comble tous les désirs, dompte chaque tourment.
Le parfum de la nuit enivre le cœur tendre !
La fleur qu’on ne voit pas a des baumes plus forts…
Tout sens est confondu : l’odorat croit entendre !
Aux inutiles yeux tous les contours sont morts.
L’opacité des nuits attire le cœur morne !
Il y sent l’appeler l’affinité du deuil ;
Et le regard se roule aux épaisseurs sans borne
Des ombres, mieux qu’aux cieux où toujours veille un œil !
Le silence des nuits panse l’âme blessée !
Des philtres sont penchés des calices émus ;
Et vers les abandons de l’amour délaissée
D’invisibles baisers lentement se sont mus.
Pleurez dans ce repli de la nuit invitante,
Vous que la pudeur fière a voués au cil sec,
Vous que nul bras ami ne soutient et ne tente
Pour l’aveu des secrets… — pleurez ! pleurez avec
Avec l’étoile d’or que sa douceur argente,
Mais qui veut bien, là-bas, laisser ce coin obscur,
Afin que l’œil tari d’y sangloter s’enchante
Dans un pan du manteau qui le cache à l’azur !
I’ll let a combination of Google, myself, and Michelyn take the parfum part to English:
The scent of the night intoxicates the tender heart!
The flower we cannot see has the strongest balm;
All sense is confused: the smell is almost heard!
To useless eyes, all its contours are dead.
Motorcycling on a summer’s night with my wife – the fragrance of unknown night-blooming flowers, invisibly crossing the road – I must say, I’m getting this guy. At this point, Pardon is making sense.
But Nasomatto? After the hashish-inspired, über-powerhouse Black Afgano? What are these guys smoking? Do we really go to Nasomatto for… dandy?
Well, this pink dandy may not be smoking, but he has some interesting secrets.
There’s something unsettling about the scent. Something sexy but strange. I was about to chalk it up to misinterpreted sandalwood creaminess, until I saw that one of my cohorts over on Basenotes (MonkeyBars) pointed out that oud and magnolia – the floral note in Pardon – share an animalic/spermy overtone. Indeed, that is how I would describe this accord. It’s a bit weird – as in biological fluid weird – and strange in a fragrance. Perhaps not Sécrétions Magnifiques strange, but bold nonetheless. It floats somewhere between the welcome smell of cream, and other, perhaps-less-welcome smells.
That’s when it hit me. There is a rather enigmatic scent with a weird, animalic, sour milky accord that bothers me in a similar way – the highly regarded, highly discontinued, Le Feu d’Issey.
Apart from this aspect, and their artistic complexity, Pardon and Le Feu d’Issey don’t smell that much alike. Pardon is more oudy, and Le Feu d’Issey is more woody. However, they seem to escape the mainstream similarly.
People such as Luca Turin, my buddy Dimi at Sorcery of Scent, and those who remember it, still love Feu for its beautifully enigmatic scent. I expect that Pardon will find its fans in a like manner.
Pardon may seem like a retreat from Black Afgano. But judge not a book by cover, a poem by title, or a dandy by day.
There may be some interesting surprises at night.
–Neil Sternberg (aka the redneck perfumisto), Contributor
EIC Michelyn Camen Art Director
We have a draw for one sample of Pardon courtesy of Neil. To be eligible leave a comment about this review , naming your favorite Nasomatto fragrance or one you would like to try. Draw ends October 14, 2011.