Hermessence Cuir d'Ange

The master of minimalism does it again, with a fragrance unlike much of his previous Hermessence works. Here we look at leather in a different light, diminishing the libidinous qualities and the sexual timbre of phenolic-driven leathers, often layered with hints of super sweet fruits and rectified birch tar smelling like sweat and shoebox. I can’t recall an Ellena fragrance that uses predominantly a leather composition, so I naturally looked forward for his take on it. Like most of Ellena’s Hermessence work, he always has a certain angle to a perfume. Iris Ukiyoe was inspired by Japanese watercolours, whilst Poivre Samarcande was inspired by a grand oak tree that eventually grew ill outside of Ellena’s house. The tree felled, and released a scent Ellena loved and recreated through fragrance. Thus, Cuir d’Ange is inspired by Ellena’s great love of literature, and his deep affection for the works of Jean Giorno and in particular Jean le Bleu which mentions the term cuir d’ange, or angel leather. Jean-Claude wonderfully implies that he himself is an author – but uses smells and scents as his words. And hence, Cuir d’Ange is poetry for leather on skin – a seamless duet, balancing between romanticism and tautness. A novel take on a leather fragrance. Deceptively simple, I pick up two accords from Cuir d’Ange: The first is a leather accord of superlative degree. It is supple, smooth and hosts an airy richness. I am instantly reminded of handbags; the best kind of course. Hermès is a house famous for their leathers (I personally love their silks too) and they use an assortment of amazing calf leathers with an amazing sheen quality to it, with a persuasive sturdiness. I am particularly fond of their colourful Ulysee notebooks with a delicious leather cover and the revered Sac a Depeche, which I call colloquially: the male Birkin bag. I have delineated my love for Hermès leather because of the quality and in turn, the quality of its scent. Jean-Claude explains how leather innately contains immense complexities, with very delicate floral nuances. Ellena visited the trove of leathers stored by Hermès and was captivated by the luxuriousness of it all. He explored the subtle differences and the differing smells each piece of tanned leather contained and found that “The most expensive pieces smelled of flowers”. Leather innately has a restrictive feel to it, a sense of tension and constriction. The robusta and gusto of leather is romantic when it smells worn in. Cuir d’Ange opens with a dizzy and imperceptible floral accord (the other accord) lifting the leather to its angel status. Diaphanous yet imperative in achieving the desired effect, the florals give a saccharine tang against the leather backdrop; like flowers in a leather vase. A clean style of musk is obvious throughout the life of this fragrance, hinting at tobacco and beeswax subtleties and connotations. I am also fond of the use of heliotrope, giving the old school melancholy feel, entwined with fleshly hawthorn flower that opens with a note reminiscent of sesame seeds and a very light eugenol clove giving warmth and radiance – I get a metallic jump from the violet used, only adding to the skin and leather effect. Cuir d’Ange also has a soapy quality surrounding it, as if rough skin has been scrubbed and polished to buttery state. Cool tones of iris, suede, heady narcissus and a contrasting bitterness are also to be found, and together smells like copy paper and new books. It is creamy without the usual vanilla, and that’s rather pleasing to smell from time to time. This fragrance is narcotic for sure, and very comforting. I love to contrast this against Tuscan Leather by Tom Ford, with this being the romantic fragrance, and Tuscan Leather being the raspberry and raunchy driven aftermath. The overloaded musk gives Cuir d’Ange its romantic appeal, with the dry leather as well being tempted by a pale almond note. A leather made into watercolour. Very well balanced. 4/5

I believe Cuir d'Ange is Ellena’s best work. Despite being considered by many as one of the greatest perfumers of all time, I am not a fan of his “watercolor” style. Alas, there are a few compositions signed by him that I love. And while I enjoy Ambre Narguilé more, I have to bow my head to Monsieur Ellena for his tribute to leather in Cuir d'Ange. I believe this was meant to be a response to Chanel’s Cuir de Russie and Dior’s Cuir Cannage. Of course, Hermes did it in style, with Cuir d'Ange. I also believe it was the last perfume Jean-Claude created for Hermes. What a way to pay tribute and end such a prolific collaboration. The perfume is not overly complex, and the name is well chosen. This is how I’d imagine a fragrance called “Angel Leather” ought to smell. It presents a clever duality between this gauzy, dreamy, dusty floral part and the robust, textured, and salty leather; light and darkness. And to my nose, it boils down to this interplay of leather and hawthorn. What an unconventional pair. I love Hawthorn; the smell and the taste of Hawthorn bee pollen. Various perfumes did a great job in mimicking an accord, but none that I come across thus far has been as precise as Cuir d'Ange. Jean-Claude brilliantly renders this accord, and it encapsulates many of these fascinating flowers' facets: sweet, almondy, bitter, green, slightly medicinal, musky, and powdery. With clever use of musks, he further veils the accord and gives it a nice lift, like Angel dust. The leather component makes me think of fine leather goods, as only Hermes knows how to do. It’s devoid of smoke, while there is a prominent salty quality that I absolutely love. It hints at human skin, making for quite an intimate touch. When I first tried Cuir d'Ange, I was taken aback since I did not expect Hermes and Jean-Claude to present such a crude and assertive leather. There is a slight stable-like and rural vibe to it, but in the most elegant way. After all, this is Hermes. I find it interesting how there isn’t much talk among “Cuir aficionados” about this perfume, despite being one of the most brilliant, definitely skillful leathers around, in my humble opinion. It is a true testament of “the materials are important, but the nose is the most important.” And it does not resemble any other perfume. Clone houses seem more preoccupied with duping Ambre Narguilé, the darling of the line. However, true connoisseurs know about Cuir d'Ange, and the ones I know and value hold it in high regard, deservedly so. If you fancy yourself a Cuir lover, you have to sample this. It is not only one of Ellena’s best works, but I believe it is one of the best leathers ever made. IG:@memory.of.scents

In some depictions of Michael the Archangel we see God’s General wearing gold armor with brown leather straps holding it in place. Odd that such a heavenly power would be wearing such earthly things, but if he did and if the leather had a smell, it would be Angel’s Leather. Cuir d’Ange is not powerful in the way we would associate Michael or most modern leathers, but there is an unyielding confidence and tenderness to it. To my nose this is less about the leather than it is the very clever and very beautiful materials that help bring it to the fore. The trick Ellena employs to do this is apparent in a reading of most of the non-leather notes of the pyramid: hawthorn, ambrette, narcissus, heliotrope, and musks. Experienced noses know these profiles have very similar notes. Hawthorn evokes a sweet and floral tonality with a warm, nutty dullness and a bassy sublayer of musky, rotted kitchen compost. Ambrette? Musks and nutty warmth. Narcissus? Sweetened florals with a hard and dull green edge. Heliotrope? Almonds. Musks? Gray animalics that sort of live between the compost and the ambrette warmth. You have the picture I think. Leather and hawthorn are the most readily identifiable and complete, which is an inspired pairing. My family had a dogwood tree and the smell of its flowers was challenging, and very similar to hawthorn; it took years for me to appreciate its strangeness, and longer still to love it. It wasn’t until I experienced Cuir d’Ange many years later that the combination with leather would hit me like an epiphany, and I love Cuir d’Ange for that revelation and for so convincingly bringing back those memories of that weird but beautiful tree. The leather is steered in the direction of lady’s handbag without going too far in that direction to knock it off the unisex line, and it has the hawthorn’s notes to thank for this effect. The balance with its feminine side is achieved with an effervescence of powdery and rooty orris, a natural bedfellow to leather in perfumes, and in Ellena’s lightweight and transparent signature. It is a gorgeous, restrained, celestial leather that is just the right amount animalic, just the right amount musky, and just the right amount sweet and floral to feel like a tender embrace. Ellena is quoted as saying "I wanted to write a poem to rekindle the love duet between leather and skin. Its softness and lightness, its tension and its caress through leather and musk." He nailed it. Beautiful work.

Cuir d'Ange was probably the only Hermessence that made me swoon on my first smelling. It's austere, with just the barest hint of a floral married to what feels like an extremely carefully balanced leather accord, presumably made up of several leather-oriented materials and arranged delicately like a house of cards. It's minimal, yet also thick and rich, not particularly angelic to my nose per se but rather does evoke luxury leather goods very effectively. There's just the barest hint of trodden earth, and an ever-so-slight animalic component to this waxed, smoothed and cured leather note. And yet, I find when I wear it out and catch it in the air, I don't enjoy noticing it. It's really quite inexplicable to me, as the smell itself I think is fantastic, but there's something happening on an emotional level here which just doesn't resonate for me. It's not even the meta-knowledge that the perfume comes from a house known for its odd snobbery, nor the heavy attempts at evoking luxury. There's just something dour, almost cynical to my nose in the way it smells. This is not a joyful leather, but it's not a beautifully solemn one either, rather there's an almost nihilistic quality to its minimalism, its enormous coating of wax. Perhaps it's the smell of the artificial attempt at preservation? The "over-curing" if there is such a thing? This is not a leather jacket for spilled drinks and kissing boys, it's a pristine handbag which will be offended at the slightest scuff or dust mote. If she'd only undo her top button I might be able to enjoy it but, alas, I'll stick with White Suede and Daim Blond who don't mind having a good time when it counts. A cold love from me.

dear fellow fragrance enthusiasts (u know who u are!) ive to share my experience and i hope this will be applicable to evryone and not just me. ive noticed that after i store my perfume in a glass display cabinet in room temperature (not even a temp-controlled room), my perfumes have becoming pleasantly concentrated and intensified my les exclusifs edps are all becoming super-intensified and all the good elements in each of em are beautified (for example, the patch in my coromandel edp is now insanely pronounced, the leather in cuir de russi edp is becoming even more animalic, etc) and this beauty!!! when before i seemed to struggle just a bit with performance (same goes with ambre narguile), now both of them are insanely long lasting. and strong. for the first time today i almost choked someone with this one with my usual 3 sprays (not something that im proud of but, yeah!) i dunno if this wud have any negative impact on the perfumes age-wise (i hope its not!) but i would say its a very welcome side effect. afterall, we will never stop experimenting when it comes to fragrance rite? we are all freaks one way or another. as for this beauty, one of the best leather fragrances that have ever existed.