Memento Mori

An animalic rosy ambergris that is soft at the same time! It's an incredible balanced rosy, ambergris, civet, & orris butter. it's not a beast mode 80s powerhouse like blend rather than a contemporary ambergris rose blend. The patchouli is there but hidden within the animalic mix. This blend is just beatitude and close to skin, sensual, and very erotic. I believe i have found the optimum gem in this collection. Incredibly beautiful.

An excellent example of the unique DNA of this perfume house: either you love it or hate it. For me, it’s the former. The buttery open is comforting without being common. The rose is exactly the kind of rose I enjoy — watery and delicate. The animalic heart is a purr, not a roar. Worthy of a full bottle.

An animalic-musky rose with an oily start. The opening presents a greasy, buttery accord — one that might have seen the inside of a barbecue grill. Fortunately, the butter quickly fades, giving way to a sweet, resinous, animalic rose. The rose leans into its sweeter side, while a honeyed resin (with clear animalic facets) builds the foundation. Despite the ominous name, the fragrance itself is far from bleak — it’s a well-executed animalic rose with steady, grounded beauty.

A sample of this arrived today. I have it on my hand as we speak. I've had it on my hand for about 5 hours now. This is not so much a perfume, as it is concept art in a bottle. I love the concept (make a scent that reminds us of our mortality - Memento Mori: Remember Death), and I love the fact that someone made this scent. But I don't like the scent itself. And I don't think it was made to be loved as a wearable perfume either. As I said, this is more art than a perfume you douse yourself in. I don't get any flower notes, rose, patchouly or amber from this. What I smell is Phenylacetic acid (honey/urine), a bit of the civet and the butter. That Phenylacetic acid note is very strong. I do understand that some people get urine from this, and I do understand that some people get honey. Personally I get a bit of both. The drydown is more on the honey side, but it doesn't smell like lush, fresh, sensual honey. There is something wrong with this honey. It's like it comes from a very ill little bee. Memento Mori opens with a crazy strong blast of this honey/urine, and at first it smells really vile. It's like a liquid danger sign. Don't come any closer, or you'll catch something serious, and die. Yes, it smells like bacteria, or disease. Something unfresh, unclean and sickening. It reminds me of hospitals and nursing homes for old people. It doesn't smell like clean hospital, but more like disease, used incontinence diapers and corners the cleaning personnel has forgotten for a long time. There is a very bodily, intimate smell in this, but it's not a sensual, sexy kind of intimate scent. This smells more like the sweaty body of a very ill person, someone so sick that they don't have much time left. There is a unfresh, decaying kind of vibe to this unpleasant honey like sweetness, and it also has a medicinal feel (like a body filled with lots of medicine, trying to battle the severe illness). I thought the butter note in this would be a lovely creamy, salty thing, but it's not. It just adds weird smelly cheese nuances to the urine like honey smell. Not a perfume I would buy, but I will cherish my sample. It's a very unique creation, and a crazy original concept. Glad I've tried it. Sillage starts off extremely strong, but the scent slowly dries down to a skin scent. Longevity is great. I've had it on for 5 hours now, and it's still going strong. I've even washed my hands, and I can still smell it. :)

Because I normally adore everything Aftelier, I'm going to speak up with a caveat -- sample first! This one is clearly a love or hate choice. I've learned so much from sampling, researching, and finally buying here (Aftelier's Secret Garden), that I'm going to hazard a guess as to why some of us so dislike this one -- Phyenylacetic acid. In large doses, it's quite unpleasant and some of us may be more sensitive to it than others. Outside of the bottle, I get sweet wood (presumably the patchouly isolate), and oysters. (Ambergris. Not my favorite but usually any civet overwhelms and makes up for it.) Once the bottle is open, it's such a scrubber I can't even keep smelling long enough to fully describe, but for me... it starts with rancid cheese, then bile, and after that it starts to get bad. So bad, that I quickly doused it with Aftelier's Cuir de Gardenia -- which worked, so that I didn't have to hack off my arm. I'm very curious as to how this smells to someone with a different nose from mine:)

This is a weird one! From this, I mostly get the green, thin, rosy smell of phenylethyl alcohol and the parmesan cheese funk of Robertet's civet absolute, which I've smelled in dilution. I'll definitely be curiously resmelling this frequently in different conditions to see how it changes, since I know it's supposed to be a shapeshifter, but parmesan roses is all I'm getting at the moment!

Smells like rotting butter, spoiled milk and cow dung. I should know because I grew up on a dairy farm. I purchased several samples from this house and hated them all w/ a passion. If you want to try a small niche house that has unique handcrafted fragrances that actually smell like flowers, herbs etc... try a little house called Gather. I'm glad I only bought $50 worth of samples but it was still money wasted.

Mandy Aftel produced two new perfumes in 2016. Memento Mori, as the name implies, is a contemplation of mortality and consequence. Amber Tapestry is the salve for a wounded spirit. Given the conflict and vitriolic tenor of American politics in 2016, the two perfumes are poignant bookends to the year. Did Aftel create Memento Mori and Amber Tapestry as commentary on the state of political strife? Doubtful. But do they suit the times? Do they offer an opportunity to make sense of them? For me they do. Memento mori are images of death. As reminders of impermanence and mortality they are reassuring to some, terrifying to others. Perfumery is a durational art form and transience is inherent. What better form for a memento mori than a perfume? Aftel creates a memento mori very different from the either the classical skull symbolism of portraiture/still life or the bizarre staged Victorian postmortem photographs. The former is cliché and the latter is gruesome to the modern eye, but both ask the viewer to consider mortality by looking at death. Aftel's perfume focuses on the nature of relationships and the brevity of life by making us think about skin, the shell that contains us, the handle that we use to hold onto each other. Skin is durable and fragile, beautiful yet commonplace. It is an outward sign to others (and to ourselves in the mirror) of the passage of time, aging and death. Aftel presents skin in its entirety. Memento Mori ranges from the musky sweetness of a baby's softness to the seductive floral quality of mature, knowing flesh. It has acrid flashes---the skin of effort and struggle---but is grounded in the buttery intimacy of commingled bodies. The sense of skin pervades every bit of Memento Mori but it is still a perfume. It has all the attributes and aesthetics of perfumery and doesn't try to create a false authenticity by overemphasizing realism. I struggle for the right word to capture Memento Mori's representation to skin. Depiction? Portrayal? Tribute? I'll stick with adjectives. It is loving and honest. Fragrance's language is elusive. It has to do with tone, not facts. Even if you can't put words to the qualities you find in a perfume, you can hear what it has to say. Creating a memento mori through fragrance is an ideal use of the olfactory medium and makes such sense that I catch myself nodding yes as I bring my nose to my wrist. Memento Mori has the distillation that I attribute to an artist's thorough understanding of her process. The last part of daily yoga practice is an extended savasana, or corpse pose. It's an opportunity to think about your eventual death as you compose yourself and conclude your practice. I had a yoga teacher who used to say without a trace of irony, "OK. Now lie down and die." This is how I experience Aftel's perfume. The concept of the perfume is deep, but the experience is accessible. It's a balance that suits the subject perfectly. * Amber Tapestry is a big, cruisy floriental that fits late 2016 to a T. It satisfies my need for beauty as a rational response to the emotional and cognitive dissonance of the American election year. Tapestry is an apt metaphor for the perfume. A jasmine/resin accord is the weft that holds all the other notes woven through it. The putty-like density of heliotropin matches the hum of cinnamon to create a matte finish that allows the gasoline edges of the jasmine to ignite. A choreographer I used to work with had a wonderful, looping bit of material that we used to dance because it felt so good. It was juicy and lush, with suspension and release that you could manipulate with all sorts of satisfying dynamics. It was called The Feel-Good Phrase. Amber Tapestry has the same sensibility. Engagement, pleasure and satisfaction. No small things these days. (from scenthurdle.com)

If you’ve read any of my other reviews, you’re probably aware that I favor the weird and the challenging. While this isn’t the place to justify my rationale, I will say that I’m not into weird for weird’s sake; I come at perfume from two angles: the functional and the experiential. While the former is the norm (a scent you wear in a traditional manner), the latter (a scent you study and explore as a discrete aesthetic) is usually where I turn for innovation or drama. Innovation, by nature, should be discomforting in some way as it’s about change, but innovation must also be coherent and make sense. Aftelier’s recent Memento Mori falls squarely into this category and excels at the effect it produces. I’ve never had the opportunity to try any of Mandy Aftel’s perfumes mainly due to availability and cost, but I was able to get my nose on a fellow perfume writer’s sample. A tiny dab to the back of my hand kept me engrossed for hours, and while sniffing other scents throughout the night, I kept returning to the spot where I applied it — the mark of an intriguing composition. Be warned: this is a difficult scent, but it’s also quite heartrending. It opens with visceral ripe cheese note, breaking away about twenty minutes later into a fleshy mix of clean sweat, salty butter, and semi-sweet decomposition. Throughout, there’s a steady cardboard-like impression that sometimes stems from iris as well as an incidental floral note to keep things from going too dark. The scent’s as mesmerizing as it is disturbing. It’s not just carnal; it’s animalic but in an atavistic, primitive manner. While it pushes the envelope in ways you can’t really prepare yourself for, every aspect of it feels calculated, intentional, and curiously comforting. It’s long lasting and hums with low sillage, but scents like this really aren’t about traditional metrics. Memento Mori’s compulsory for anyone interested in what scents can accomplish beyond the realm of perfume niceties. A great introduction to a line I’ve been curious to check out for some time, and this is one I’ll be seeking out in some capacity or another to smell again as I can’t get it out of my mind.

The reviews of this perfume sound like The Strange Case of Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde! After writing my first review of Memento Mori, I saw that the other reviewers were not experiencing MM in the same way I did. Their reactions were much stronger and different than mine. Curious after reading such contrasting descriptions, I sent my sample to another Fragrantica member to wear. She seemed to smell the same thing that I experienced, and even thought that maybe the perfume in my sample had been mixed up when she read the other reviews and Aftelier's site description which mentions lingering musk and civet. Neither of us got any cheese, civet, or heavy animalic smell. So I sent for a second vial of MM! Aftelier perfumes are all handmade in small batches, and perhaps my first sample was problematic in some way. (Temperature variations in shipping, batch variances in ingredients, age difference, skin chemistry, mix up in filling the vial or some other factor). My second vial of Memento Mori was the same as the first one. To me, a pretty floral with a beautiful rose note. Reminded me of the dried flower bouquets that you used to be able to buy at places like Pier One. Gentle with a graceful accord that smells a bit like Johnson's Baby Oil on living skin. Like it's name, a reminder of a someone close. A mercurial perfume according to the divergent reviews. I am looking forward to trying it in warm weather to see if behaves in a different way on my skin. Skin chemistry could be affecting it. Will it have a Mr. Hyde transformation or stay the pretty delicate fragrance . . . designed to remind of loved ones gone, the fragility of life. Fascinating - this is the first time my skin chemistry has gone my way!

The softest, most ethereal floral. Complex accord with hints of downy patchouli, light rose and feathery amber. Like a bouquet of pressed flowers found in an old book, brought to life by opening the volume to the air. It floats up like the scent of sachets from boxes of stored mementos. Lovely ghostly fragrance, perfect name. A natural perfume, I spayed quite a bit on my skin to enhance the sillage and longevity. The drydown lasted quite awhile, and the predominant aroma was the Turkish rose. Very powdery and pretty, with the smell of a dried potpourri. Haunting and beautiful.

The potpourri of a keepsakes box, dried flowers, brittle bouquets and boutonnieres, precious posies pressed between the pages of diaries and photo albums, sachets tucked among stored remnants and relics, and tokens of remembrance and reverence. Decaying roses in a dusty vanitas painting, blooms dried to powder, musky and musty, ghostly and haunting, sweet and acrid, baby-soft musk, rendered in pressed petals. The grief equal to the love, the tokens never equal to the weight they carry, entirely evidenced upon opening the box and releasing what's tucked within.