Black

Black was the first perfume that I bought with my own money when I was a senior in high school in 1998. It was the year that Bvlgari released it and I was looking to change my “signature fragrance” (I didn’t call it that), which was Hugo by Hugo Boss, and had been Le Male by JPG before that. I don’t know how or why I chose it, but I suspect that the packaging caught my eye: the flat, disc-like bottle with black rubber, resembling a car or motorcycle tire. I used it my last year of school and took it with me when I went abroad for college. Fast-forward a quarter-century. I’d been hunting for a bottle of Black for nearly a year, ever since I got bitten by the fragrance bug. It turns out that in the intervening decades, Black had become something of a perfumery legend. I don’t remember what happened to my bottle from college. Did I finish the juice and never replenish it? Did I leave it abroad, by mistake or intentionally? What I do remember is that I loved it: I’d found it to be comforting and warm but also super sexy and unique. None of the other guys smelled like me, and that was important at the time (like a peacock, I sought to stand out for the ladies). Luca Turin had something to do with its attainment of mythical status, having raved about it in his first Guide with Tania Sanchez in 2008. He ends his almost full-page, five-star review thusly: “[Black] has the combination of great bones and good skin characteristic of old-fashioned perfumery, while being entirely novel and modern. Some things strive to be classics; others simply are. Spend an evening with Black and you will know that its place is with Bandit, Tabac Blond, and Cabochard among the great emancipated fragrances of all time.” A few weeks ago I was sifting through my usual hunting grounds when a new listing popped up on my screen: a boxed, never sprayed, 75-ml tester bottle with the twist cap that turns ON <—> OFF; the one that was later replaced by a common sprayer with a separable cap due to generalized complaints from users (apparently, the mechanism broke or malfunctioned frequently). When they changed the cap, it turns out, they also reformulated the perfume. So a bottle with a twist cap is a telltale sign that it contains the original, mythical juice developed by Annick Ménardo of Firmenich. The same one that I wore 25 years ago. I’d found a unicorn: a mint-condition bottle with the original formulation! (Batch code from 1999.) And the kicker: the price wasn’t ridiculous and the person selling it was absolutely lovely. I couldn’t believe it. I’m still swooning. As for the scent itself... it’s been described very well by others. I’ll just say that it’s gorgeous. I haven’t stopped sniffing it since I got it a few days ago. It’s been like rekindling an old flame, with the depth of feeling that time and distance and experience and perspective can give a couple of age-worn lovers. This is a special, one-of-a-kind, delicious fragrance. It truly is.

Bulgari Black has a bit of a modern-classic-cult status around it, and as usual with these things they're a bit overblown. Think Patou Pour Homme, with its odd combination of amber+fougere+chypre with excellent materials that seemed to blow everyone's mind (and still does... somehow). Bulgari Black was aimed at the masculine bandwagon of the very late 1990s/early 2000s, just as that wagon was starting to turn under the weight of the metrosexual craze, and Bulgari climbed aboard the wagon using nearly the same steps as PPH: pile into a perfume some accords that are very infrequently found together, but use much cheaper materials. Bulgari and Menardo did have an interesting creative flick of the wand with the opening, when presumably Menardo realized she could take Bulgari's much loved tea material that JC Ellena and Bulgari had been playing around with for quite a while and apply a scale factor that morphs it into an intensely and stridently woody shriek. Then it was given a chemically sheen by bitter and oily bergamot, and parched by completely indolic jasmine. The result is something that smells quite a bit like new tire rubber. As a car fanatic who does a lot of his own car work, I can tell you it gets quite close to the VOCs that off-gas after tires are produced. Then at the heart we get a suede leather accord that lives quite comfortably in the middle of lady's handbag and a man's fine Italian jacket; think of slightly animalic leather that has some baby powder residue on it, managing to be just a touch different and simply likable. At the end we have a vanillic amber that is on the pleasant side of sweet, and certainly favoring vanilla more than it is any other amber notes. Some synthetic woods are present for a bit of breadth, but it's mostly vanilla. In all honesty, Bulgari Black smells quite cheap to make. None of the materials strike you as exceptional, and there doesn't seem to be much technical know-how needed to blend it together since it is... well... really rather simple. But it got a lot of praise for its novelty at the time, that praise still echoes, and I cannot argue against that much. Rubber, a gentle leather, and a unisex vanilla do not sound like a winning trio, but it actually works pretty darn well. It's on the unique side of perfumes I've smelled over the course of my life and certainly on the side of unique in my collection - plus it simply smells good and is fun to wear.

Personal: 9.5/10 – One of the most beautiful animalic fragrances out there. Leather and vanilla steal the show. Mass appeal: 6/10 – It could definitely be polarizing, but taste in art is very individual after all. Performance: 6.5/10 – Despite its notes, it still disappears remarkably quickly. Just makes you appreciate it while it’s there. Value: 2/10 – Current market prices are ridiculous for what it is, even if it’s great. Uniqueness: 9/10 – A dirty leather–vanilla contrast like this is rare and unforgettable. SCORE: 67/100 Full bottle buy? NO, not at today’s insane prices. I’d love to, but it’s not worth the secondary market markup. Blind buy? NO, far too polarizing and expensive to gamble on. Recommend? YES, but only if you’re already into animalic leather scents and are willing to pay collector prices. Date night? YES, for edgy, urban, late-night energy. Office safe? NO, too animalic and polarizing for a work environment. Pros: Perfect for anyone with a love of leather scents. Beautiful play on dark and light notes. Extremely unique. Cons: Performance is surprisingly mediocre, prices are ridiculous, and this one isn’t office friendly. Some may love it, some may despise it. For my fourth review, we’ll review a discontinued fragrance from Bvlgari, Black EDT. This fragrance is beautiful in its own ugly way, and I can’t get enough of it. It’s a dark animalic, dirty leather rounded out by sweet vanilla and a powdery wood base. It’s... a bit feminine, but in the most masculine way possible. It smells like a beautiful woman wearing an old, beat-up leather jacket that was worn by a mechanic. The imagery may be poor, but bear with me. It opens with this dark, animalic leather that immediately gets calmed down by powdery vanilla. It smells like urban beauty. This is what city life smells like. This is perfume greatness. The fact that this was discontinued, to me, is a travesty. This is one of the best animalic fragrances I’ve ever smelled, and it’s so likable. An absolute stunner of a fragrance, and a shame it was discontinued. It’s not for everyone, but it’s absolutely for me. Animalic leather never smelled so good. *Review #4 in my fragrance journey – this fragrance I own as a decant*

I've had this fragrance for about ten years (batch code suggests August 2011 manufacture), so I presume this puts it in the original formulation category. I can understand how some may not like the prominent lapsang souchong "rubber" note, but for me that's what makes it really special. I've also got Fahrenheit though, and I'm a fan of the "gasoline" note in that wonderful fragrance too, so perhaps it just takes a certain taste. I can't speak to performance of reformulated batches, but the one I have goes pretty close to beast mode, I wore it out tonight to a club for drinks, in outdoor section at tables, weather cool and damp ("cool" here being 17C or so...), I could sense my scent dominating the surrounding space. A couple of acquaintances turned up, sitting at adjacent table, both immediately noticed the Bvlgari and one said "Someone smells good!", I knew she was referring to me but two of my friends sitting at my table would've been wearing fragrance also so I didn't want to openly presume I'm the one, she actually stood up, started smelling us one by one and when she got to me she said "Yep, you're the one!" I of course said thanks, and told her what it was. I've received random compliments from strangers with this one in the past, for me it just seems to work. I find Black to be very nicely balanced, but with a distinctive sharpness that cuts through the air, projecting excellently, strong sillage, and lasting nicely. I can see how it could be considered "Unisex", but with "rubber" and leather notes this definitely sits firmly on the masculine side (it's certainly no feminine unisex fragrance, put it that way...). Would consider this an afternoon and evening scent generally, but I've worn it to office in past and managed to pull it off. Really like this one, classy and expensive smelling, if it has been discontinued that's a shame, however if the reformulation has watered down the performance and distinctiveness of it I doubt I'd want to purchase a recent bottle of it anyway...

[175] Black is a unique, original scent that deserves its accolades. I have been intrigued by it since reading Luca Turin's glowing review as a teenager. The bottle is perfect - round and black like a tyre, it matches the concept to perfection while being distinctive and objectively pleasing. I'm glad to have tracked down a miniature instead of a decant - now I've a scaled-down version of the epic bottle to admire! Black opens with a compelling mix of notes that settles before there's a chance to savour them. There are fresh, tart citrus notes, some slightly sweet but smooth florals and a warm hint of something akin to benzoin in the background. I get a hint of fresh, earthy tea leaves, and then it settles fairly quickly into its famed rubber-and-gasoline accord. It smells just like rubber tyres after a car/motorbike has skidded to a stop - smoky and tar-like. It is photorealistic, bringing to mind a rough-and-ready garage/yard selling used cars. I'm surprised that birch tar is not listed in the notes. The gasoline is fleeting, and the vanilla that emerges in its stead is an inspired and unexpected addition that adds smoothness and just the right amount of sweetness. The rubber accord becomes more refined and leather-like, and the vanilla here adds a buttery, luxurious quality to the leather notes. At this stage, it more resembles the biker's leather jacket than her tyres. Tempered by soft, woody notes, this fades to a powdery, musky vanilla-amber skin scent with a whisper of leather until the end. Sillage is moderate but the longevity is lacking - my bottle must be of a later batch. A badass, unisex leather scent, Black is masterfully created. It has shades of Matière Première Falcon Leather, but is more complex and nuanced. Meticulously crafted, Black is compelling from start to finish - I just wish it had better performance. To be worn with confidence. 4.5/5.