MEM

What an incredibly interesting critique of chypres, lavender and decay MEM is. I think it is incorrect to associate this fragrance with vintage perfumery, for to me this fragrance exudes an approach that is nothing if not earnestly modern. When thinking about MEM, I am hard pressed to consider it except as an animallic chypre which has, interestingly enough, replaced it's centerfold icon with that of lavender - the fougere's classic note. What makes this even more interesting, is Antonio Gardoni's focus and theoretical approach to decay, or the fine line which separates that of an over-ripe note, and it's loss of pure character to the maniacal grip of rot. Gardoni uses a lot of contrasts to illustrate his treatise on lavender, and in ways through which those approaching this perfume won't expect - even from having read the note breakdown. For instance, there is citrus for certain at work here - the sour elements of grapefruit (those that are occasionally called 'body oder'ish) joins with the pretty, powdery and bitter petitgrain to create an unsettling accord straddling sour/bitter divide- yet simultaneously, the mandarin orange here is working very hard to unite as a middle term: fresh, juicy, and endlessly refined. More immediately, however, is the totalizing effect of the four different dimensions that the lavender takes on - this is the muscular organism surrounding the skeletal structure of animalics hard at work here - the civet and castoreum are putting in overtime - always there is a chewy, slightly urinous and infinitely musky tinge which unites the otherwise realistic and intense animallic accords with the herbal and truly heavy lavender that constantly draw the mind of the wearer to opposite ends of the fragrance spectrum. And yet - even the elements that seem the most straightforward are contrasted in ways designed to, like a lot of modern arthouse films, put you at peace with that which seems to be antagonistic to 'haute' taste itself, and yet simultaneously cause you to investigate the elements of fragrances that do genuinely draw the most 'immediate' loves throughout time - the floral top for instance which is joyously booming with bright and sweet notes of ylang-ylang, champaca and a wonderfully lush damask rose paired with a bourbon geranium that only enhances the lush and leafy character of the rose is contrasted with cool and crisp mint, a slightly fruity yet still densely herbal and spicy laurels and a flat beer accord coming from the malt. This of course is a reflection of the constant series of contrasts at the core of this fragrance - somewhere between decay, fermentation, and rot - in the notion of that which is stale and still, rather than necessarily aggressive and hostile (there is no notion of death present here.) Even as the fragrance dies down, with some of the custard, coffee and jammy elements coming from the top to meet with the chewy siam benzoin and smoky/creamy elements coming from the labdanum, amber,vanilla - the animallic notes come back out to play here, and are just as intense and interesting as they were during the start of this elaborate performance, only now they take on entirely different expressions - paired with these balsamic/sweet underpinnings, they now also have a strong woody character coming from the palisander rosewood and the himalayan cedar - although the transition doesn't feel jarring at all - the creamy sandalwood pairs well here with the benzoin and the labdanum as a transitional series of notes that explode with just as much interesting character as one finds at the start of this fragrance. Overall, loving one fragrance from this house does not entail that you will love any other by necessity - this house is one which takes the core notion of theory and love of art in-and-for-itself as its highest virtue, and if you are ready and willing to continue down this road after smelling any of the other magnum opus fragrances from this house, MEM is certainly a wonderful place to progress towards. A very challenging fragrance to rate, but ultimately I have to give it a lower score due to the fact that I spend more time analyzing than I do enjoying this one - but don't let that mislead you - MEM is absolutely astounding - my personal preference might not be at this point just yet, but I certainly could find myself absolutely needing a bottle of this genius work down the line. 9/10. YT: Jess AndWesH

Alright, buckle up, because MEM isn’t just a fragrance—it’s a full-on olfactory uppercut that leaves you reeling in the best way possible. This isn’t some timid spritz for the faint of heart; it’s a ballsy, genre-defying beast that laughs in the face of conventional perfumery while sipping a double espresso and flipping through a leather-bound book of poetry, so let’s dive into why MEM is the kind of scent that could make a grizzly bear pause and say, “Hold up, I need to smell that again.” From the first blast, MEM comes at you like a citrusy haymaker—petitgrain, mandarin, and grapefruit don’t just whisper “hello”; they kick the door down with a zesty, green swagger that’s equal parts invigorating and mischievous. It’s like biting into a grapefruit that’s been dunked in a vat of herbaceous sunshine. But don’t get comfy, because the star of the show—lavender, in four different species, no less—struts in like a rockstar with a PhD in botany. This isn’t your grandma’s lavender sachet; it’s a complex, multifaceted lavender symphony that’s earthy, floral, and just a touch feral, like a Provençal field after a thunderstorm. Then, the florals crash the party, and oh, what a crew. Ylang ylang, lily of the valley, white champaca, jasmine grandiflorum, rose damascena, and bourbon geranium don’t just blend—they brawl, each vying for the spotlight while somehow harmonizing into a lush, heavily malted, fermented floral core that’s as intoxicating as a moonlit garden orgy. It’s rich, it’s creamy, it’s got that slightly boozy, honeyed and almost “rotten” depth that makes you want to bury your face in it and never come up for air. Gardoni’s genius here is balancing this floral opulence with a green, herbaceous backbone—peppermint and laurel keep things sharp, like a mint julep served with a side of swagger. But wait, here comes the base, and it’s where MEM goes from great to “holy hell, what is this sorcery?” Vanilla, Siam benzoin, sandalwood, Himalayan cedarwood, labdanum, ambergris, musk, castoreum, civet, and amber don’t just anchor the scent—they build a cathedral of warmth and animalic depth that’s both primal and polished. And eternal! The ambergris and civet give it a salty, skin-like edge that’s downright seductive, while the castoreum adds a leathery growl that says, “I’m not here to play nice.” It’s like the olfactory equivalent of a velvet smoking jacket worn over a biker’s leather vest—sophisticated, but with a dangerous streak. The fougère structure is there, sure, but Gardoni takes that classic barbershop vibe, douses it in absinthe, and sets it loose in a fetid jungle. It’s green, it’s herbaceous, it’s floral, it’s ambery, and somehow, it’s all of these things without ever feeling like it’s trying too hard. The malted quality? Spot-on. There’s a roasted, fermented, almost whisky-like warmth that weaves through the composition, making MEM feel like a memory you didn’t know you had—like stumbling across a forgotten bottle of vintage booze in a dusty attic filled with dank damp wildflowers. In a world of cookie-cutter fragrances, MEM is a middle finger to mediocrity. It’s bold, it’s complex, it’s a shape-shifter that evolves on your skin like a living, breathing story. Wear it when you want to feel like a poet, a pirate, and a philosopher all at once. Gardoni didn’t just create a scent; he bottled a vibe, and it’s one hell of a masterpiece. If this doesn’t make you want to strut through life with a smirk, nothing will.

Why not switching today to the most masculine of flowers? Yet, if we believe in rumours that want Aime Guerlain to name its masterpiece - Jicky, a caterpillar of contemporary perfumery - after an English student whose biological sex was female, then we may want to reconsider lavender as an encoded femenine note: IF, we believe in the rumors (who knows if that student was GENDERED as female, regardless of biology...) I see MEM as an homage to Jicky with some interpolations borrowed from Mitsouko. MEM is a study on lavender; its varietals are not only of a higher caliber and quality, but they have also been subjected to a different sort of distillation process than basic lavenders in order to bring out their less common facets. The result is quite unexpected with aromas that are simultaneously green, floral, green-white floral, sappy, sometimes even fruity, occasionally piney, herbaceous, medicinal, and with rather indescribable aromatics that feel wholly naturalistic. MEM opens with the refreshingly zinginess of yellow grapefruit with its crisp juices fused with the incredibly aromatic oil from its bitter rind. It falls atop a patchwork quilt of vetiver that smells like the freshest grass, newly mowed to release every ounce of its crisp scent, and lavender. The latter defies easy description. It smells like: aromatic freshness, lavender ice cream, green fruitiness, herbaceous greenness, bitter green sap, and crushed green stems. At times, there is something medicinal about it, but it’s in an oddly fruity, sweet-sour, citrusy and earthy way. Layered within the lavender, there is even a white-green floralcy that, somehow, inexplicably, bears ghostly hints of “tuberose.” Buried deeper within it is a milkiness that is simultaneously grassy, floral, aldehydic, and coconuty, almost gardenia like. There is some caramelized sugar to cover the lavender creating a suggestion of fruitness and of lavender icecream. When the indial sandalwood starts to emerge, I get a wheat note that combined with some oranges reminds me of a hoppy bber accord: a stunner. The lavender paves the way to a floral bouquet of rose, jasmine, ylang, and champaca whose sweetness is contrasted by the sour notes stemming from beeswax and a gasoline and rubber accord. Musks, salt from ambergris, incense, castoreum, and a hint of civet complete this masterpiece. IG @alexolympia6

Before sampling the works of Antonio Gardoni, I feared that it would fall into the realm of indie perfume that reminds me of a quote from Chandler Burr's The Perfect Scent where he speaks of Veronique Gaultier: "She understood, as some did not, that one could stuff a perfume like a sausage with the most expensive ingredients in the world and wind up with carefully macerated shit that cost a fortune. What mattered was the way the thing was built." I've experienced my share of the above, from upstarts who have little insight or regard to the mathematics involved in blending materials, putting artistry ahead of true skill. I can appreciate "outsider artists" in other media, but in perfume, it's a tough call, since there is something so exact about its science. However, Gardoni is one of the few indies that both pushes the experimental envelope and has grasped the necessary ropes for a cohesive composition. The results are compelling works that visit new frontiers but still have their foundations rooted in classical perfumery. In Mem, there are textures and oblique images that defy the expectations of the materials used. The lavenders betray their usual politeness as they arrest me in its opening, and the unctuous of ylang-ylang and malted Whopper tropical florals counteract with accents of cineoles, camphors, and menthols. I am satiated by the medicinal, the narcotic, and the animalic in all acts of Mem. Sarsaparilla and wintergreen washed over salty skin, honeyed farm animal hindquarters and hay bales and phragmites, weeds and reeds and ripe, sweaty, heaving blooms. Smoky, fur-lined gardenia and decaying roses on a nightstand by a bed with dirty, sex-soaked sheets. Mem is an adventure and a thrill to wear.

Here we are, delving into my first review of an Antonio Gardoni’s creation. It took some time for me to decide to put my thoughts “on paper”, but today, as I revisited MEM by Bogue after several months, the memory of why I bought it and why I adore it flooded back (as is the case with all of Antonio Gardoni’s creations). Before “tailoring a suit” for MEM, it is crucial, as echoed by other voices with similar sentiments, to emphasize that crafting a review merely regurgitating the list of notes from official descriptions or platforms like Fragrantica is not only futile but also detrimental to the essence of the perfume in question. It’s one thing to discern the nuances of an accord; it’s quite another to mindlessly repeat without interpretation. With this vital clarification in mind and leaving the copy/paste realm to others, let’s dive into MEM. The allure of this fragrance resides in its embrace: the profound sense of joy and protection that emanates from the very first spritz. While lavender might not be overtly apparent due to its manifestation in an almost medicinal herbal amalgamation, what undeniably surfaces is the protective aura enveloping you from behind. It’s akin to someone surprising you with a hug from the shoulders, only to gracefully encircle you, concluding the embrace from the front, where a warm, deep musk smiles at you, cradling your head in its hands. A whirlwind of freshness and luminosity unfolds between the initial and final embrace, offering no hints of the subsequent evolution. MEM is a GEM: one that engulfs you, never leaving you in solitude; a fragrance that reveals nothing yet earns your complete trust.

Bogue Mem is one of those big, flamboyant, complex perfumes that’s more a work of art than a complement to your wardrobe. I love it, but I do want to warn that it can wind up “wearing” you more than you wear it. It opens with a boozy, herbal-earthy lavender, spiked with the hot breath of castoreum and civet, and the golden warmth of ylang-ylang. This is damn good fun. Sharp, herbal, almost medicinal, yet dark and funky. Over the first hour, I get a somewhat contrasting note that’s malt mixed with bitter orange, something like a Blue Moon amber ale with an orange wedge. It blends nicely with the caramel-toasted facets of the lavender. In the second hour, I also get a separate chord based around flowers — I get at least orange blossom and jasmine — and the lighter, gentler, more vanilla-laden lavender facets. It smells like a meadow in bloom crossed with a vanilla milkshake. 2.5 hours in, I mostly get herbal, fuzzy lavender, an aura of white flowers, whiffs of milky vanilla, and a touch of citrus. There are some darker, roasted flavors lurking in the background too. And at 3 hours and beyond, it’s mostly golden amber and woods, fading into near-imperceptibility at the 5-hour mark for me and staying there for the rest of the day. Mem is a lavender fougere, so a traditionally masculine genre, but I think it’s pretty genderless. It’s a big lavender with all the trimmings — herbal, animalic, malty, citrus, floral, and vanilla notes all complement the lavender from different angles. It’s a pearly shimmer between pale violet and rich golden brown, a full spectrum of scents.

Another miraculous creation by Bogue! A uniquely stunning take on lavender, Mem will not be for everybody. In fact, the lavender is at first very difficult to detect. First sniff drowns you in a sea of animalics, ylang-ylang, champaca, and malt. Your nose has to register a scent that is aromatic, gourmand, and savory, all at once. The civet, castoreum, and champaca are fleshy and rich, but sweet enough to blend with the syrupy ylang and toasty malt. Once this settles, the deep, dusty lavender appears, along with rose, musk, labdanum, and geranium. There are some citruses listed, but if they're there, they're hard to perceive, vibrating on the dark edge of the heady florals. The lavender here is intense, almost ominous, but so entwined with the rose, musk, resins, and geranium that it isn't entirely itself. This is not the old-fashioned twilit lavender of Guerlain's Jicky, or the crisply aromatic lavender bomb of Tom Ford's Lavender Extreme. Mem is something else altogether, a very avant-garde fougère, stripped of gender and age and transformed into a musky-waxy-indolic-aromatic-herbal abstract of itself. This is lavender reflected in funhouse mirrors and refracted through carnival glass. It is gravitas and levitas in a bottle. Any fan of lavender should definitely give Mem a try (as well as Antonio Gardoni's other creations)! Genderless and ageless, and to be honest, I'm not sure what kind of weather or occasion this would best fit. I guess I'll just have to keep wearing it and find out! :D

MEM is an incredible scent in my books, largely because no one seems to agree on how it smells. Simply put, it's a shapeshifting lavender yellow floral from outer space. MEM opens up with tons of tart, sweet juicy fruit--I get peaches, sweet oranges, and other stone fruit. As the fruit aldehydes settle, the fruit accords are accented by the tropical, slightly powdery sweetness of ylang and champaca. The result is a sweet but realistic and natural-smelling melange of flowers and fruits that lasts well after the opening, and is expertly blended and layered within the composition. Oddly enough, I get a hint of malt in the composition that reminds me of how fruit accords smell and taste in an American IPA style beer. All the while, the aromatic and almost mentholated lavender starts to bloom in the background, with a balsamic sweetness resembling tonka (likely the ambered base). A funk slowly comes out, with what I think is a civet-y musk that serves the contrast the sweet powdered aromatics with an almost sour furriness. My skin tends to tame animalics significantly, so to my nose MEM smells very clean and I don't get much of the animalics that other reviewers have noted. If you love lavender, love yellow florals, and love complex, natural-leaning perfumery, MEM is a must try. Alternatively, if you hate all of those, MEM is still a must try--because it smells like a whole more than its parts. Safe to say I love MEM.

Antonio Gardoni likes to tuck “Earth laughs in flowers” onto Bogue's boxes, and with MEM it feels like he took that line personally, then redrew it with an architect’s ruler and a perfumer’s grin. This isn’t “nature” as a postcard. It’s nature improved: edited, structured, and given load‐bearing purpose. The opening grapefruit flashes like sunlight on stone with a bitter zest. Then the green scaffolding goes up: lavender (seemingly more than one type) arrives not as barbershop fluff, but as brutal aromatic concrete. Herbal, slightly camphorous, clean in form but very far from polite. As the blueprint becomes a building, the florals begin to occupy space: jasmine slides in with a creamy hum; ylang‐ylang describes a yellow curve across the composition, like a soft architectural arch balancing the harder lines. And, following Gardoni’s canon, there’s the inevitable animal in the garden. Civet isn’t a jump scare here; it’s the final structural element that turns pretty into compelling. As in MAAI, MEM balances the herbal and animal facets with the confidence of someone who knows exactly where the walls belong, and exactly when to leave one exposed. The architectural analogy simply makes sense. Ultimately MEM isn’t a “safe” lavender or a “nice” floral. It’s Gardoni’s version of nature, and perhaps the future: earth laughing, architecture listening, and something warm‐blooded moving just behind the facade.

This smells how my pfp feels This is a true shapeshifter. Some days i find the lavender near as pungent as straight essential oil, some days the ylang and indolic florals are the star, some days the animalics seem to scream the loudest. Surely some of it is due to physical factors like weather, nose blindness, diet and such. But this one seems subject to some cognitive shifts to an unusual degree. The image that comes to mind is a holographic fougere, but boxing this in a traditional structure would be wrong. It's quite forward thinking-really, which you wouldn't sense from the note breakdown. This is completely wearable as the floral top and heart seem to land just right, the animalics are quite compelling, and the ethyl maltol really completes the shape. This is a futuristic and abstract scent built from very vintage, nearly outdated notes. Gardoni's ethos as a perfumer seems to be around this concept, and this is his most successful with along with COME. Maai is very good but a little more boxed in within the chypre boundaries, even if it does challenge it on a lot of levels. Lita & T-Rex are interesting but seem to prioritize shock. OE tries to do this by slathering iso-e super on top of a vintage fougere and it doesn't work to my nose. MEM is the best indie perfumery has to offer. Really wonderful stuff, I think any fragrance fan needs to experience this.

Paranoid Android, did you forget that you already reviewed this one two years ago? Speaking of paranoidandroid12/11/20 10:41 This is a shocking perfume... But all I had to do was to leave the room and walk back in 5 minutes later - and the most beautiful smell lingers. So it is clear that the sillage of this perfume is very different and that it is also a true perfume meant to diffuse into a stunning beauty - not to be obsessively smelt up close early on. And also “The ending on this one will break your heart with its tender and softly unctuous beauty - like cuddling into the warm, soft embrace of a lover, in bed, early in the morning, still warm and smelling of sleep and human skin, who wore Caron Pour Un Homme yesterday morning after his shower - all human, cosy, sensual and beautiful - but also with a sense of humor and intelligence. Like a prelude to morning wake-up sex.” But now it’s the emperors new clothes “Best parts of this perfume are the first 5 seconds & then the shower you take afterwards to scrub it off. Pointless noodling that’s confused and confuses the wearer into thinking it is complex & well blended. Unwearable & ugly.” Maybe MeM makes people forget!

This one is quite difficult to pin down: the ad copy makes it seem all about lavender, but even a few seconds after the lavender top notes calm down there is all sorts of stuff going on. The biggest player in this fragrance after lavender is jasmine, and it's the contrast between the bright Mediterranean herbal lavender accord and this dark, fruity, indolic jasmine that makes Mem interesting. There's a resinous dusting over top that dries it out and gives a medicinal quality to the herbs. There's something rustic and apothecary-esque here that's familiar from many Italian lines. It's hard to quantify in terms of notes, but it's a recognizable aesthetic. While this doesn't smell just like the other Bogues, there is a family resemblance between all of them, a kind of soupy complexity that makes them interesting and mildly dissonant. Once the herbs have burnt off the deep drydown is tropically floral and fruity, almost raisin-like, with some balsamic vanilla notes. Jasmine and vanilla sherry, maybe? A fun fragrance to explore, but because of its unusual juxtapositions and complexity, I'd recommend sampling first.

MEM is as beautiful as it is strange, perfectly blended and addicting. Opens with a rich and sharp aromatic lavender, dries down to musky yellow floral. The whole thing feels salted in exactly the way I picture ambergris, a little funky. Like Salt by Ellis Brooklyn, but instead of rotting seaweed and screechy synthetic florals, you get a quite natural mix of funk and lavender. To me, it’s the imaginary smell of a rafflesia flower-- supposedly they smell like rotting flesh, but still I dreamt of yellow rafflesia plants shortly after trying this perfume. The masterful blending makes it feel like the juices of a real, living organism rather than just a chemical creation. This scent is challenging and not so wearable, but a cool experience all the same. I guess the occasion for it would be... camping in a jungle? The beach? A sweaty, extended tryst? The unapologetic sour odor makes me self-conscious, and wearing this on a date would make me blush. It's plain dirty, but not in a way that’s remotely human. Niche as a perfume gets, and worth sampling if you want to stand out.

My very first love from Bogue. MEM, the post-modern, surreal fougere. It was the first perfume I tried from the house, and I immediately fell for it. For someone who dislikes lavender with a passion, that says a LOT. I still struggle with lavender in perfumes and with fougeres. However, the way Antonio painted MEM speaks to my heart. I love the juicy opening, the effervescent, rootberish quality, the smoky castoreum, the growling civet, and the glowing resins in the base. It also behaves differently, so slightly, from wear to wear. Sometimes feels more fruity and succulent, other times, the smoky castoreum pushes louder, occasionally, the civet gets quite urinous in the base, and at times, I'll get almost no animalics but benzoin. Overall, however, this is a lavender bomb, dissecting the aromatic from head to toe, exploiting everything to be said about it. It somehow works for me, as opposed to most others. It has fallen in my BOGUE rankings with time as I discovered others, but I still hold it dear for the novelty it was when we first met. IG:@memory.of.scents

MEM is one of those fragrances that feels like a great abstract painting -- you know you're experiencing something special, even if you can't quite put it into words. Every stage smells familiar, but there's always something slightly unexpected about it. The opening is lavender, but not the clean, barbershop kind. It reminds me more of the actual plant, or maybe lavender oil -- dense, herbal, and a little rough around the edges. The middle is where I'm lost. I know there are florals in there, but none of them really stand out on their own. Everything blends together into this hazy fog that transports me to the final stage. As it dries down, a sweet musky amber base starts to come through. The ethyl maltol gives it an almost syrupy sweetness, but there's an animalic note lying underneath that stops it from becoming a gourmand. It feels warm and sweet, but also a little wild. Reading this back, I realize I still haven't really explained what MEM smells like. Maybe that's the point. It's one of those perfumes that makes more sense on skin than it does in words.

many wrote essays about this scent which means they were all stunned with the scent and it is a stunner. it is amazingly rich and strong. this is the greatest combo of femminine and masculine notes i have ever encountered in a perfume. lavender can be too masculine, too cold and give too syntheticlike/ soapy vibe but here it is opposed to lots of jasmine/ vanilla floral part with some mint in it that it radiates sexieness... sultrieness.. this is in the end very femminine perfume.. It feels like 3 in one perfume: some lovely jasmine with Menthe freche and Nicolai pour homme (disconntinued ). It doesnt chnage with time for worse just for the better...there is a part after 2 hours or so that it looks like it will turn into Maai but luckily it doesnt :) where it smells as if it will turn masculine, it has the most beautiful openings ever, mint part fades the quickest but in general it doesnt chnage this much as many imply here. It is gorgeous!!! i can not believe that it exists :)

I'm not a lavender fan, however, this is a gorgeous lavender centered fragrance. Mainly because of the quality of the ingredients, the complexity, and smoothness of the blend. Yes, the lavender is the main player, but this is a full-bodied lavender. You get all its facets. The floral, spicy, and aromatic qualities. And then there is so much more. Fruity facets, other exotic florals, some sweetness, and something very fizzy and bubbly about it. On my skin, I get 0 animalic notes. Nada. And although I am a huge fan of animalics, I don't mind that. I have enough animalic fragrances to quench my thirst. This is my favorite lavender based fragrance by far. Lots of colors, nuances, fresh, fruity, fizzy, floral. A delight. The performance is outstanding. If you are looking for a modern fougere that is complex and multilayered, you should definitely try MEM.

I remember testing a few Bogue perfumes a few years earlier and I wonder if my nose just wasn't mature enough to appreciate this brand or if this one in particular is special. It's gorgeous. Opens thickly yellow tropical flowers and almost fruit roll-up juicy and sweet. A bit leathery too but not IBQ more like fruit leather candy. Then the next phase is distinctly lavender but not your potpourri lavender or even tea, but a robust honeyed lavender that is sweet, bright and from the garden fresh with tons of mint and vanilla. A hint of musk throughout but nothing that screams niche animallic dirty -- very subtly musky and much more floral and sweet. I'm seriously thinking about getting a full bottle. I love this so much. The projection/sillage is mid, and the longevity is so far 8 hrs still strong.

I have 3 bottles ranging from the first batch to 2023. All are glorious, though the original is most beastly. Strangely, I get no animalics. I get malty foamy deep radiant funk, but zero obviously fecal notes of any kind. Instead, this is the most unbelievably intense combination of lavender Jazmine I’ve ever smelled. In fact, it is the only intense combination of lavender and jasmine I’ve ever smelled. And then that keep respect it is totally unique. The malt adds depth and maybe what people read as animalic. There’s a bit of freshness from camphor and grapefruit maybe? Otherwise, it is complete suffusion in purple and white lavender and jasmine. It almost smells like purple bubblegum. And deep grape.

Bogue Mem (2017) - animalic lavender - #antoniogardoni creates this opulent perfume that is extremely unique. Starts the accord with the strongest Lavender notes I have sniffed from a perfume. I get lavender in different facets: sweet, herbal, smoky and anise-like. What starts out as a lavender fougere morphs into an animalic floral. Jasmine, Ylang-ylang, Laurel leaf and heady Champaca. I also get a malt/roasted wheat smell that helped support the Lavender at the top. It’s drydown comes hours later: Civet, Castoreum, White musks on a woody amber base. From its start until the very end, an almost never-ending story. A full opera. A perfume that everyone should be able to smell at least once.