Euterpe by Herr von Eden : Perfume Review & Sample Draw

I promised you something special for today and I just know you will be as enthusiastic about this amazing perfume as I have been to discover it! Essenza Nobile surprises me with three different samples each month. If I like any of them, I review them, if I don't, I simply don't write about them. So far, since this relationship started, there've been some months when I haven't had anything to write about, once or twice when two of the perfumes grabbed my attention and some months when one of the three was the winner. Never so far however have I been so impressed with all three perfumes. While I hope to find the time to review all three of this month's perfumes soon, I am starting with my absolute favorite of the three, Euterpe by Herr von Eden.

It is easy to get disillusioned as a perfume reviewer: trying to keep up with the countless perfumes out there as well as the legions of new releases each year means that for every rose you dip your nose in, four dozen piles of trash make their way to the same olfactory receptors to get your spirits down. After a while you end up having to think twice even for perfumes that are actually worth something. Every once in a while however something comes your way that is so amazingly good that it makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Something that electrifies you, something that makes you think "Yes, this is what perfume is all about, God yes, this is why I love smelling perfumes so much, this is why I chase after that high everywhere I go, every chance I get!". Sound familiar? These are the gems, and let's admit it while we're at it, these are the shining slivers of beauty that drive our addiction. Euterpe is one such beacon of beauty and hope for me.

I'd never heard of Herr von Eden, but a little search revealed that it is the brand of Hamburg-based Bent Angelo Jenson, a German who started his business not with perfume, but with clothes - suits in particular. Originally catering to men, his company has now extended to female clientele with modern women's collections, edgy eyewear and jewelry. The brand now includes three different perfumes in simple, chunky, masculine, slate-grey flacons bearing elegant Greek names: Euterpe, the muse of lyrical poetry, literally meaning "the pleasure giver", Eros, the son of Aphrodite and god of sexual love and beauty, and Eclipse, which aside from the obvious astronomical event it refers to, literally means "absence", a ceasing to exist.

Now, will you also, like me, find it thrilling if I tell you that Euterpe, with the delightfully feminine name smells like an archetypical masculine perfume? Yes, on the Essenza Nobile website it is listed as a unisex fragrance, while the Herr von Eden website itself assumes a Sphinx-like silence and refuses to comment on either a gender or scent description of the perfume. The Essenza Nobile website also lists it as a "true fougere". Believe none of it! Euterpe is the paragon of oriental masculinity and not even a modern one at that: it already smells like a classic. And it does a fantastic job of it too. Intensely, yes, intensely virile from the first moment you spray it courtesy of a strong, naughtily dirty animalic undertone that refuses to subside until the moment the perfume fully expires from the skin, Euterpe smells of retro brashness, hunger for sex and power. It smells of a man that'd make you feel like the world would come to an end (but who cares...) if he locked you in an erotic embrace. In other words, it smells totally unfashionable. And so very me.

The listing of the perfume as a fougere, if not correct, becomes comprehendible when one attends to the top notes: bergamot, lavender, lemongrass, rosemary, coriander and grapefruit, especially in combination with the patchouli in the basenotes draw a typical chypre canvas (even as there is no moss to be found). Yes, this is a strong impression, but not the only one. Let me explain - this side, the masculine side if you will, provides the sharp toothed, sexy bite of the perfume, something you can appreciate entirely when you consider exactly what the combination of rosemary, pissy coriander, dirty patchouli and animalic base do... They are the aggressive seducers. Add to this the oudh (yes!) which plays both fields from the base and you get a pretty good idea. But that's not all... The other side of Euterpe blossoms and seduces with a mouth drenched in sweetness, using orange blossom (honeyed, tender, in this instance) as a driving engine and carnation (a million kudos for respecting the past), ylang ylang (ditto), rose (again) and cinnamon as catalysts. But as powerful a composition as this already is, it would be nothing without its gooey, warm, nay, smoldering center: Tonka bean, sandalwood, Siam benzoin and vanilla kiss the perfume with soft sweetness from the base. As it dries down the now ambery, vanillic Euterpe smells more and more like a comforting cashmere hug. Imagine Ormonde Jayne's Tolu, but more complex and multifaceted. This comparison should also make clear that the intense masculine edge slowly dies down with the dry-down, even as the animalic edge doesn't. Finally, this amazing oriental gains its wings as a unisex. But who gives a damn about gender distinctions when a perfume is this good?

I know you'll want to have a whiff of this amazing, complex, involved gem so I'm holding a draw! Simply leaving a comment means you automatically enter. Winner will be announced in a week's time, next Friday.
Have a good weekend!

Official Notes:
Head: Bergamot, Lavender, Rosemary, Lemongrass, Coriander, Orange Blossom, Grapefruit
Heart: Rose of Palma, Cinnamon, Rose, Carnation, Ylang Ylang, Clyclamen
Base: Sandalwood, Bezoe Siam, Patchouli, Vetiver grass, Cedar wood, Tonkabean, Vanilla, Oud

Price: 119€ for 100ml or 89€ for 50ml via Essenza Nobile's webshop.

Nuit Noire by Mona di Orio : Perfume Review

Mona di Orio is the type of house one wants to love: It is a house with integrity, solid background, commitment to high quality and last but certainly not least, wonderfully thoughtful packaging. Having said that, I’ll have to admit that even though it’s been more than a year since I first discovered the line, I never actually felt motivated enough to actually devote skin space for one of the scents on any of my regular Saturday-morning sniffing excursions. On blotting strips the scents seemed nice enough, but not quite exciting enough to be sprayed on skin; there was always something else I found more deserving of the limited skin space on offer. I find it is time to rectify this however, so I recently procured some Mona di Orio samples to try at home, effectively eliminating the distractions of other hard to find fragrances begging to be tested instead. Today, Fragrance Bouquet explores Nuit Noire.


Nuit Noire seems to positively shun conformity: It is a scent without the merest trace of trend, something quite bold in and out of itself. It smells old, but not aged, like a fresh batch created from an old recipe. Those of you that have smelled DSH’s “The Perfumed Court” collection of 17th and 18th century inspired fragrances will know what I mean. An interesting bitter note reveals itself in the opening, but it is quickly drowned under gentle, subdued sweetness that smells like a shower of flower petals. Suddenly the dull opening begins to sparkle with the aroma of citrus oils. Yet, unexpectedly, the scent is not fresh; the overall impression is that of stale aromatic water and orange that has gone bad. Suddenly, the spell of darkness lifts and the fragrance brightens, smelling intensely like citronella, while underneath there is the faint smell of orange blossom, mingled with the sweet scent of orange candy. The unmistakable, citrusy, soapy scent of ginger becomes stronger and stronger, a perfect counterpart to the rising scent of pungent, green cardamom. The heart notes sound complex and seductive, listing clove, cedarwood, olibanum, tuberose, cinnamon and sandalwood. Unfortunately, in all honesty I can’t detect even a hint of some of these notes, like clove, cinnamon and sandalwood. I still smell the familiar scent of the now mellower orange blossom, mingling with a dark, velvety tuberose, very unlike any other rendition of the flower I’ve smelled before. The olibanum is there, but seems quite discordant, while there is also a certain oily smell I can’t quite place. The drydown is quite beautiful: ambery and balsamic notes hugged by smooth vegetal musk. The sweetness is just right and the result is semi-transparent, a quite admirable result considering many of the fragrances with similar base notes tend to have a heavy, smothering effect, especially when applied liberally. What does go wrong for me is the leather note, which in this composition my mind illogically seems to interpret as having a human component – specifically, I tend to perceive it as smelling of warm, stale human breath. The ‘staleness’ seems to be a recurring theme in my description of Nuit Noire and indeed, I find this sense of something being off in the perfume quite perturbing. Admittedly, the more I wear it, the more I warm up to it and the more I can appreciate its undoubtedly unique character. I know however that I shan’t be able to get past its disconcerting kind of dirtiness any time soon.


Images: www.monadiorio.com, www.sxc.hu and commons.wikimedia.org