Jabu by Mona di Orio : Perfume Review

Well, what do you know. After all my bemoaning and lamenting not being able to find a Mona di Orio perfume I can appreciate, I finally got the chance to smell her newest creation, Jabu, and I am more than a little pleasantly surprised. I am even more pleased for being in the position of finally writing a positive review about this solid, full of integrity brand.

Skins, one of my favorite stores here in the Netherlands recently held a beautiful launch for Jabu and Mona herself was present. Unfortunately, due to an incredibly busy schedule I was unable to attend, but as soon as I found some free time last week I popped by the store and together with my purchases I also received a sample of this fabulous new perfume.

Jabu means “Joy” in Zulu, and the perfume itself is dedicated to Orange Babies, the target group of the homonymous charitable foundation that helps HIV infected pregnant women in Africa and their babies as well as supporting HIV infected or otherwise affected by the disease children of Africa. Consciously thinking about this target group might bring somberness to our heart, but the perfume’s message is one of spirited optimism: the joy and the laughter of these children finally getting help.

As with all of Mona di Orio’s perfumes, a spritz on the blotter only tells half of the picture: the fragrance needs to be applied on the skin in order to show its true colors. A discreet sniff of the bottle’s stopper was enough for me to know that I’d like it, but didn’t prepare me for the fact that I’d love it. Smelling the stopper I got the impression that this would be a summery perfume, as all I could smell was a gorgeously frothy orange blossom scent. On the skin however, this develops into a supremely warm scent, absolutely fitting for winter and for special occasion summer evening-wear. But I’ve held you in suspense for far too long; let’s get right down to it and explore this beauty.

Jabu opens with the bittersweet, herbaceous, woody accent of petitgrain. Slowly, the woody-citrus freshness of petitgrain dissolves into the mounting sweetness of full, creamy orange blossom. The meeting of the two is incredibly uplifting, having an almost ‘sunshine’ effect on the senses with their jubilant character. The ylang ylang employed here is almost disturbingly oily at first, but soon calms, adding the most gorgeous exotic accent. This exuberant, fervently exotic side is further explored with the addition of monoi-tiare, which underscores the creamy lusciousness. The subtle coconut hint of monoi adds to the ‘texture’ of the fragrance, lending it an almost 'chewy' appeal. After this sumptuous extravagance, Jabu takes a surprising turn; slowly, the scent begins to quiet down, enfolding the wearer with a honeyed, serene sweetness. The buttery softness of sandalwood begins to emerge, mingling with a soft rose scent and the overall sweetness of the scent is cut slightly at the edges as the bitter-sweet scent of myrrh blooms. Together with another resin (the balsamic-vanillic Benzoin Siam - already very effusive almost from the beginning) and sweet tonka bean, these heavier base notes now firmly ground Jabu in the realm of the orientals. The impression is rounded off with gorgeous ambergris (as with Chamarre, the ambergris here is excellent and beautifully prominent) and deep, dark (albeit not dirty) musk.

Jabu is a chunky and powerful floral-oriental, a perfume you can truly sink your teeth in. Its femininity is all grown up and mindful of 80’s power-dressing. In fact, there is one perfume that Jabu clearly reminds me of, a perfume released at the end of the decade, but still thoroughly impregnated with the effusive, baroque style of 80’s florals and orientals. That perfume is Lacroix’s C’est la Vie. It’s been many, many years since I last saw C’est la Vie on a shelf, but the moment I smelled Jabu on my skin, the thought of it popped into my mind. A check for C’est la Vie’s notes revealed that my olfactory memory was very accurate indeed: featuring orange blossom, ylang-ylang, rose, amber, Benzoin Siam, musk and vanilla, C’est la Vie reads like Jabu's predecessor. Having said that, Jabu does bear Mona di Orio’s signature and once you smell it, you will definitely have no trouble recognizing it as one of her creations. Still the two are strikingly close in feel and scent and I hope that this comparison helps you get a clearer picture of what Jabu smells like - especially important since many will have to purchase online due to the lack of brick-and-mortar distributors. If you like Lacroix’s powerhouse gem, you’ll be sure to love this one, which appeals with modernized sophistication and updated, soft voluptuousness and projection.

Importantly, I have to mention that Jabu is not only dedicated to Orange Babies, but also supports the foundation with donating proceeds. I am not sure what percentage of the profits goes to the charity when you buy Jabu in other parts of the world, but currently, if you buy Jabu at Skins, a whopping 100% of the proceeds go to the foundation! For those of you not living here in the Netherlands, you can also purchase from Skin’s webshop by clicking here. The language can be switched to English by clicking on “selecteer taal” and Skins will ship internationally. (Editor’s Note: Fragrance Bouquet is NOT affiliated with Skins, but loves the shop and wishes to support the charity.) If you wish to know more about the Orange Babies foundation, you can reach their website by clicking here.

Images: www.monadiorio.com, www.sxc.hu, www.mes-parfums.com

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