The Peradam

When I read that The Peradam contained real orris butter, Mysore sandalwood (sustainably harvested) and a rare extraction of Jasmine grandiflorum, I could not wait to get my paws on it. When it hits my skin, it smells like a glob of wet, starchy, gray chalk. The jasmine is equally intense, luminous, almost too sharp. These two ingredients blended together create an odd juxtaposition of dark and bright. I have never experienced them together so prominently, so at first it feels confusing and unfamiliar, which is fascinating because it's certainly not a fragrance I can say that I have smelled somewhere else before. It doesn't remind me of any other perfume. Soon I begin to smell something faintly woody and smoky, like the scent of burnt wood that lingers in the air from a wood-burning stove. The perfume behaves like smoke too. It clings to things. For days after I sprayed the perfume on my wrists, I could smell that smoky note each time I walked past the spot in my room on which I was standing when I sprayed. It only smelled smoky, not like jasmine or orris, so it took a while to realize it was The Peradam. The smokiness is one of my favorite features of the perfume....after the orris butter. Sometime in the drydown, the orris butter blooms. No longer is it the chalky, gray, arguably oppressive scent of which it started out. It softens, sweetens, and literally melts into an oily, creamy scent that resembles salted sweet cream butter. I updated this review to add that I never noticed before that there is an intense animalic note in the base. Kind of barnyard stanky, reminds me a lot of Guerlain perfumes. I remember the first time I smelled Shalimar Initial, I thought it smelled like bad breath. I get that same funkiness with The Peradam. As the jasmine relaxes and mellows, the three key ingredients combine to create something cohesive and familiar. The drydown smells like something I would describe as femme fatale, oozing with allure, stylish, modern-vintage and a little bit shabby-chic. The scent is a soft, plush, cozy, rounded, rich floral with a delicate sweetness that reminds me of powdery violets. Very beautiful and addictive. The Paradam is a gorgeous perfume, not to be missed. This is one of those perfumes, like Tauer's masterpiece L'Air Du Desert Marocain, that every niche newbie or seasoned niche aficionado should at least sample, even if sheerly to experience the qualilty of the raw materials.

I should preface my review by saying I’m not much into florals, though i do quite like jasmine. it is one of the few dominant floral notes I’d say I have really enjoyed in various fragrances (I love ELDOs Jasmin et Cigarette for example). And this... to me this is a skanky, indolic jasmine bomb. Opening is strong, powdery and earthy Orris, then over 10 to 20 minutes it morphs into what I first thought of as almost a jasmine solifore, albeit the most indolic jasmine I have encountered. It makes the jasmine in jasmine et cigarette seem positively demure. Whereas jasmine et cigarette relies on that ashtray cigarette smell to transform it into something provocative, this just magnifies the indoles to a raunchy, almost barnyard level to achieve that effect. But then, on further consideration, I think it’s the orris adding an earthiness to the jasmine that makes it come across that way. Those two materials work in such beautiful concert here that they become one in the same, the orris truly becomes and extension of the jas. The way it transitions from the orris to the jasmine hints at the symbiosis, as it just gradually and smoothly, almost imperceptibly, transitions from the opening to the heart. I realize I am getting more jasmine from this than other reviewers, and a more indolic jasmine than most at that. It just really stands out as the dominant note to my nose/on my skin. I don’t get any sandalwood from it really, it’s just straight ahead raunchy jasmine to my nose. It doesn’t have the greatest longevity, and just gradually mellows from it climax at the 30min-1hr mark, losing its raunchiness in step with its potency, eventually retreating and coming full circle to leave a light, earthy orris scent. Materials are clearly top notch, it smells extreme natural. I would say it leans ever so slightly feminine, but I always feel scents as evocative of nature as this this know no gender, even if they are dominated by florals. I am a 40yo male and have no qualms wearing this. I have been totally blown away by this house. I know I am discovering it after the fact, but my god Holladay Saltz had to be one of the most talented independent perfumers to have come along! Every one of her creations has resonated with me in some way or another.

The Peradam is perhaps the prettiest of Apoteker Tepe's perfumes. The opening of cold and rooty iris has a distinct aquatic feel to it. This iris is soaking wet. In all of the AP perfumes I've tried, which is now all of them after wearing The Peradam, every accord within every stage of every perfume's life is airy, diffusive, and highly breathable. The iris accord at the opening of Peradam, relatively speaking to most other perfumes featuring an iris accord, is airy, diffusive, and breathable but less so than nearly all of the other accords in all other Apoteker's perfumes. The elastic and almost impenetrable feeling of the wetness is palpable. The dry down to the heart notes brings a texture far more familiar and similar to the textures Saltz gave us in nearly every other AT perfume via white cloud wafts of jasmine and muguet filled with the golden light of day. The heart is gorgeous. Once this dry down hit, I let out an involuntary sigh of euphoria. The white florals are rich and photorealistic, like the smell of a bouquet of jasmine and muguet on a cool breeze. The final skin scent is a similarly light and airy amalgam of sandalwood and tree moss; milky, woody, slightly green and earthy. In the press blurb is a quote from Rene Daumal: "One finds here, very rarely in the low lying areas, more frequently as one goes farther up, a clear and extremely hard stone that is spherical and varies in size—a kind of crystal, but a curved crystal, something extraordinary and unknown on the rest of the planet. Among the French of Port-des-Singes, it is called peradam. The clarity of this stone is so great and its index of refraction so close to that of air that, despite the crystal’s great density, the unaccustomed eye hardly perceives it. But to anyone who seeks it with sincere desire and true need, it reveals itself by its sudden sparkle, like that of dewdrops." I can't say anything more any better. The Peradam is gorgeous.

What. Is. This. Witchcraft? I smelled this blind, knowing nothing more about it than the name and the house. It is utterly bizarre - and completely compelling. So strange and so constantly-mutating it kept and keeps me guessing because my nose and brain can't figure out what on earth is going on. A riot of conflicting and sometimes not even pleasant impressions - but the kind of thing that keeps you sniffing and sniffing and sniffing - and which takes some astonishing turns through different territories. Like other Apotekers it's just so weird and yet so rooted in nature. The notes I jotted down about it read like a surrealist improv session: " wet clay ... gum ... glue ... Copydex? ... more gum ... eucalyptus? camphor? but there's resin ... is it tolu balsam? plasticine? then deep wood then... tuberose? WTF? who put those flowers in there? but so beautiful..." So obviously my nose wasn't having a good day, but that's the way this blend tormented and toyed with me, continuing on its merry way, riding a rollercoaster of scent impressions, morphing from one scent to a completely other one every 20 minutes or so, growing more beautiful as it went, becoming sweeter and weirder and still more fascinating until I could barely deal with it any more. The note pyramid here makes it all make a little more sense, but not much. There's still strange magic in the mix. This is a mind-bender, in the best possible way. My jotting notes end: "Total Enigma - My God WHAT A HOUSE..." and I'll stand by it. For me this is so far from simple it's not even funny. One to try to open your horizons out for sure.

Barnyard lipstick creamy rooty waxy bliss. I first sampled The Peradam in 2015 and haven't been able to get it out of my mind since. The Peradam opens with a very challenging natural orris bomb. If you don't truly love orris you will hate this perfume. The opening is raunchy. The heart has a salty, close to skin, animalic quality probably also from the orris. The jasmine comes in very strong towards the middle and end stages, smelling cloudy, astringent/green and blunt, not like the sparkling and indolic aroma of the flower, but like the tea, or the essential oil, albeit a very fine essential oil. Sandalwood and lily are way in the background here. This perfume is an homage to orris and jasmine. If you don't love each of those in their purest and rawest forms, this won't be for you. If you're not sure, testing the Peradam is a great way to find out. In the dry down, I do get a whiff of straight sandalwood here and there with the shadow of orris sticking around. This perfume is like my spirit animal. The first time the word "bewitching" has actually applied to a scent for me. Takes some time to get to know and even then, you can be surprised to find yourself in its grip. Update: I ultimately decided not to purchase this because even though the quality and the scent was very impressive, it never became more than the sum of its parts. It smelled like high quality orris mixed with jasmine and sandalwood essential oils. I wanted a harmony that I never found. The elements stayed separate. Maybe some will love it for that very thing. I went with New Sibet instead.