Alter Oud

Alter Oud is a summer oud to me. In particular the dry-down puts me in mind of lazy mornings at the weekend markets in the tropical northwest of Australia, eating a frozen mango ice cream from a freshly made waffle cone (not the literal smell, so much as the feeling). I am unfamiliar with mangosteen, but the tropical glow shines strong in Alter Oud, decadently backed up by the warm amber base which is neither cloying or overtly gourmand. The initial spritz made my loved ones recoil, and I heard spluttered complaints of "too strong" and "too smokey". The opening reminds me of what I wanted Zoologist Moth to be. To my nose, Moth was too red to be Gothic. Like freshly slaughtered meat, still dripping blood and seasoned with spices in a butcher-shop. Alter Oud has the warm spices (Vietnamese spices, I have gleaned) but it also has cool stone floors, wooden pews, leather bound hymn books and a ghost of church incense weaving through the early experience, with the scent of outside's lush and verdant foliage wafting through the open window. I do wonder though how much of this is the power of suggestion? Reading the words "Alter" (altar)* and "Oud" in the name, and knowing it is Southeast Asian, I went in with expectations of tropical forests, wood, and sacrosanct religious fittings and therefore I subsequently perceived them. After the bombastic introduction, a bubblegum sweetness emerges; it is like tuberose, but not quite, and may be attributable to soft resins blurring the fragrance's otherwise sharp aromatic edges, and I adore this. Oud as a note is usually tricky for me; semantically/intellectually, olfactorily and emotionally. Yes, it can smell challenging, but I also feel a guilty sense of cultural appropriation when I try to wear it. Plus - is it a smell, or is it a musical instrument? I know it can be both, presumably made from the same wood. But this uncomfortable duality is still enough to baffle me at this relatively early stage in my fragrance journey. (Confession: I don't even know how to pronounce it! Is it "oooooud" like a languid sigh, or "ohhd" like a grunt?) I think Vietnamese Oud wears better on me and feels more comfortable. Not only is it lighter and sweeter than its heavy-hitting Middle Eastern counterpart, but Vietnam is also closer geographically to my home. It is a 38-degree day here today, and Alter Oud is not out of place. I am volunteering at the school swimming carnival, and it just fits. It is Bunuru, the hottest season of the year, the season of adolescence. The order of the day is sunshine, frangipanis in full bloom, and celebratory soft serves on the sweltering car ride home time. *"Alter" in this sense referring both to an altar in traditional Vietnamese homes, and alter ego (https://lv1.studio/products/alter-oud). I really appreciate James Nguyen's employment of word play in his fragrance names. I find them to be clever and punny, but never cheesy like my own Mum-jokes.

If you focus on the mangosteen at first spray, you can see it bright as day in all its glory. It fades quickly though as the turmeric takes the lead, then saffron. The combo interestingly makes a hyper realistic honey note to me which I was fully not expecting, but blown away by. The real stars of the show here are the base notes: frankincense, incense, and oud. This is a dry resinous, smoky, spicy, slightly balsamic sweet piece. If you come expecting a juicy mangosteen, you will be disappointed. It may not have been what I was hoping for, but it still delivered.

The first Oud fragrance I’ve liked, it’s a bit dusty, leathery, and animalic, with dry spices, and a hint of fruit. I only get the faintest fruit notes, and I can’t nail em down, but they’re certainly not sweet. The fruit notes are more similar to fruit notes smelled in coffees, dry, and more of just the suggestion of fruit. Ouds aren’t usually my cup of tea, so maybe after repeat wears I’ll have more of an appreciation.

This was a very strong and unique fragrance. I’d say it is more an experience than something to wear daily. To me it smelled like my Vietnamese grandparents house, like incense and ointment. My partner said it reminded him of an antique shop. I think this fragrance will be a more impactful experience for you if you have a personal connection to the ingredients.

This is interesting. It has the same spicy opening as Nuit de Bakelite. But it never dissipates. Humid and smoky. I have only sampled on paper will give a fair go on skin!