Oriental Velours

Oriental Velvet is a case study in textures, but it's a study of 3D, not a 2D texture you palpate. Whether or not this smells the way velvet feels is going to be a purely subjective abstraction determined by the wearer and the abilities of their nose, but I have to say that I'm convinced. When I see and feel velvet, there is a density to it that barely lets any light come through. The density also brings a shine to it, as the light that cannot penetrate bounces off of the rich color of the tightly woven fabric more than something like cotton or linen; it's silken in that way. Speaking of silk, there is a very plush feel to velvet that makes you want to caress it and find the gaps, but you never do because it always feels seamless and without any palpable edges or fibers. Despite its density, it is lighter in weight but without feeling fleeting. Unlike silk that can drape over you in a near weightless way to an extent you might not even notice it, there is body and weight to velvet that imparts the texture of the silk but with a swaddling comfort. Over the top of the perfume - and I do mean over the top, a couple feet away from the skin you applied it to - there is a sheen in the air of an absolutely gorgeous jasmine note. The typical whiteness of jasmine is here more radiantly golden in color, a gentle orange sun reflecting off of it, and in lacking that crisp floral-citrus whiteness we are used to it is, instead, beautifully indolic and musky. Below this golden and radiant sheen swirls a thicker and denser layer of cool myrrh smoke and vetiver aromatics, perfectly balanced between green and resinous, rooty/woody notes, and incense smoke. As if the myrrh and vetiver were gently smoldering in a draft-less room, their smoke hovers in the air occupying the entirety of the space. The jasmine with its beautiful light-filled sheen, and the myrrh and the vetiver with their space-filling silken smoke tendrils, work beautifully to give the perfume a smooth, full, and supple texture. Perfectly stitched to the underside of this layer is yet a denser and more seamless layer of balsams and vanilla, giving the whole of the perfume the comforting weight of a luxurious and dense fabric. In the end what we have is a floral amber, and you'll find plenty of examples out there of florals working with green aromatics working with balsams and vanillics. Where Les Indemodables does something different for the genre is by giving us a perfume focused on two aspects often overlooked: texture and detail. In most perfumes these aspects are sacrificed for complexity, longevity, or to squeeze a particular accord into a perfume for the sake of ticking a market-trend box. Les Indemodables and Dubois sacrificed no aspects in creating Velours as far as my nose can tell. The materials are heavenly and decadent, rich yet diffusive, and they are blended to an exceptional level of texture with no detail or space between the notes overlooked. I'm having that involuntary reaction I sometimes get of failing to stop my arms and the backs of my hands from going to my nose at any moment to get one more intoxicating hit. I would be hard pressed to argue against this being the best perfume Les Indemodables has released to date, and that bar was already very high.

Names bear meaning and the key here is in the noun "velours": this is an attempt to re-interpret the oriental fragrance genre. Made in 2016 by @odorescence - I believe - Oriental Velours is thought as "A bewitching sensual fragrance for lovers of rare, high-quality fabrics." (from @les_indemodables_officiel website). The fabrics would connect with the word "velours": a very peculiar, soft and sophisticated scent that envelopes you like the best luxurious garnment. While someone claimed this is a very simple scent, I find that it possesses a strong creative bias. And there is nothing simple in working with the viscosity of myrrh, vetiver, and spruce. The opeing is dominated by a refreshing spruce trully invigorating with some other aromatic notes perhaps. There are very brief moments in which I detect an almost "edible" component which reminds me of Fille en Aiguilles (in my palais version). The use of spruce is genious because it pay homage to the Alps - a defining characteristic of the brand - and build a bridge from West-to-East, so that we can gently be introduced to an enchanted forest dominated by vetiver and myrrh. It is the myrrh note the star of the show: it truly shines here in all its facets: bitter, with all earthy undertones: It is resinous and fungal, medicinal and astringent. I do not get any licorice undertones or cola vibes. The sacred does not smell "pretty"... The myrrh is joined by a cocktail of spices brilliant and with a noticable sensual component. It can be nutmeg and cardamome? I know not. An important part is played by the jasmine wich comes green, freshy, and grassy in concordance with the greenness of the spruce. The jasmine works in synergy with the myrrh to highlight the fungal and earthy aspects, but it also soften the vetiver in a very clever way (like for instance the iris can do only to a lesser degree in Vetiver Oriental by Lutens). I think I detect some smokiness (olibanum?). The vetiver imparts warmths and hearthiness, while the vanilla soften things out. A perfume to defy genre stereotype. please consider following me on IG @alexolympia6

Oriental Velours opens with a strikingly original interplay of myrrh and jasmine, immediately setting a mystical tone. The jasmine here is not your typical floral—it leans into its earthy, almost fungal facets, creating a curious and compelling contrast with the bitter, resinous myrrh. There's a cool, green edge from spruce and mint-like herbs (possibly rosemary or fennel pollen), evoking the sensation of walking through a damp, aromatic forest at dusk. As the fragrance develops, the myrrh deepens, but it never becomes heavy or cloying. Instead, it’s lifted by a textural interplay—a kind of olfactory illusion where dense resins seem to float like mica dust in the air. This is where Oriental Velours truly shines: it’s resinous yet airy, bitter yet soft, with a peppery, smoky fog reminiscent of fireworks or incense smoke. The base is grounded by Haitian vetiver, which adds a damp, earthy richness that complements the myrrh beautifully. The green vanilla from Madagascar lends a subtle sweetness, but it’s never gourmand—more like a whisper of warmth in the background. The overall effect is meditative, mysterious, and texturally complex. - Longevity: 7–9 hours - Projection: Moderate (intimate but noticeable) - Sillage: Soft, with a lingering trail that feels like incense smoke dissipating in cool air Oriental Velours is not a crowd-pleaser in the traditional sense—it’s introspective, cerebral, and quietly powerful. It’s a fragrance for those who appreciate olfactory storytelling, where each note unfolds like a chapter in a mythic forest tale. If you enjoy myrrh-forward compositions with a twist of green, coniferous freshness, this is a must-try. 9 out of 10.

Ah, Oriental Velours. This is a hidden gem. In my own perfume collection, I’ll forget about it for months at a time, but I’ll inevitably come back to it and fall in love all over again. It is undeniably strange and unbalanced, yet I find myself craving it. There is nothing sweet, cozy, or traditional about it, yet it is comforting and easy to wear. It’s a fairly linear composition, the only big moment for me is the opening which is a blast of dry, smoky myrrh. After that opening blast subsides, it hums along steadily for hours, hitting a sweet spot of noticeable projection that is never overpowering or stifling. My association with it is not so much forests or green as others have said. I don’t think of it as green perfume at all. My primary image is of a spice market, in the distance. Perhaps, turning a corner onto an unknown street, you begin to catch whiffs of smoke, cinnamon, saffron, cumin, coriander- just faintly, wafting through pure, dry desert air. You know the market is nearby, maybe a quarter mile away, but you can’t see it yet. So I guess, imagine all the spices and richness of an amber perfume, but from a distance, or through a grayish filter. Everything is subtle suggestion, it intrigues and leads you on, as you inhale deeply, trying to follow these wisps of scent to their source. Underlying all these nuances, myrrh and vetiver are the foundation of this perfume. Vetiver doesn’t always work on my skin but here it really does. It’s not vegetal, rooty or green, more woody and smoky with a delicate papery quality. In the end, Oriental Velours is a sparse, unusual composition that ends up being so much much more than the sum of its parts.

Pay close attention if you are drawn to raw, earthy, bitter, medicinal elements in scent as much as I am. If the smell of mushroomy, astringent myrrh resin with no gussying up or if spruce tips tea delights you, stop right there. Does a walk in the woods appeal to you more than a busy city street? Where are my people who closely examine mounds of moss, marvel at the beauty of fruticose lichens that grow from the boughs of trees? By the way, if you see a lot of that growing, you know that clean air abounds. Oriental Velours (Velours d'Orient) reveals the truth the sacred isn't always pretty, but its smells sure can set one's senses adrift. It opens with the synergy of myrrh and jasmine, both revealing their aromatic as well as fungal aspects, curiouser and curiouser, while all of its voluptuousness collapses dramatically into a spruce thicket (conifer terpenes, wooosh!). It's now the myrrh synergizing with the spruce oil, a beautifully cool bite in the heart, softened only by the slightest vanillic undertones. I get images of an alpine loft in late winter, almost spring, and that stark quiet from the snow dampening all sound, I am just below the treeline. Then there comes some warmth, a hearth is kindled, and this is where the myrrh synergizes with the vetiver. It all comes together like a puzzle, this is the feeling of unadorned nature, a perfume that defiantly resists perfume tropes, but somehow has a coziness and comfort that refutes its apparent initial rough edges. Absolutely brilliant.