Le Mat

I don't know, nor will I ever be able to likely understand, what the connection is between the tarot cards of The Fool and The Journeyman, and roses and dark baking spices. Leave it to Mendittorosa to try to connect those dots for me. They don't; their obsession with trying to connect abstract art forms and new-age mysticisms to materials you find lurking in the dirt of your garden or the plastic containers of your kitchen pantry is headache inducing, but I won't go into that again. Instead I'll simply say: man, I am really liking this perfume. This is the darkest, spiciest, pepperiest rose I've smelled in a long time. Although, actually, to my nose the rose is a bit of an aside. The perfume opens with a sharp blast of cloves, nutmeg, and enough black pepper to stock an Indian restaurant for weeks. Stand back, folks, and be ready for a blast in the face of very old self-defense mace. It is skin-scratchingly dry, hot, fiery, and humungous. All three of the spices are superbly photorealistic, as if they were just ground-to-powder in front of your nose in the field they were plucked from. All the while this is going on, you feel a big pink rose swelling upwards from the depths, unfolding itself into an infinite number of dense petal layers one layer after the other, and steadily getting bigger, stronger, and more vivid. Then it just stops... and, then, geranium. Umm, what? Le Mat shifts its personality at the drop of a dime from rose chypre to geranium chypre (though I'm not sure this really fits the chypre genre to be honest). Swelling into the remainder of the perfume's space, in place of the rose, is more readily apparent patchouli - equally as peppery, spicy, and earthy as the top notes - and massive dose of immortelle that delivers its unmistakable sun-scorched and resinous herbaceous notes. With a bit more time and bit more body heat, the geranium starts to give up, and rose starts to come through again. Powdery, pink, a touchy fruity and a touch sweet, it offsets the severe dehydration of the base notes of spicy patchouli and immortelle, and the spices that came before in the top. Significant credit for this needs to go to a well-judged dose of cashmeran, lending the powdery feel that, in conjunction with the earthiness, gives a sort of suede like effect. Then I start to question whether or not the rose is there at all, or was it ever? Was it just an illusion? Mendittorosa proudly proclaim the use of centifolia rose from Grasse in the composition, an expensive ingredient not used thoughtlessly, but perhaps because of its cost it was used sparingly; add in the effects of the cashmeran with some of the fruity and resinous aspects of the spices, and it's hard to tell where this centifolia rose material starts and ends with those massive spices, and/or vice-versa. Luca Turin says he smells chamomile. That did not enter my mind in the slightest, so I went to my bag of pure dried chamomile flowers that I use to make chamomile tea, flowers of the highest quality sourced by the indefatigable and dedicated folks at the Harney & Sons company, and confirmed that I don't smell chamomile in Le Mat at all. I guess this also confirms what we've known all along, that Mr. Turin doesn't smell things the same way the rest of us do. I get zero floral honeyed sweetness from Le Mat that are signature notes to chamomile. Perhaps if I did get these notes, I would definitely lean into accepting the centifolia rose material as being more present in Le Mat than my nose is detecting. With a lot more time, Le Mat settles down (and I do mean a lot of time, this is an extrait after all) and the cashmeran plays a bigger role, and the patchouli gets a bit sweet, so in the end - the very end, at the final skin scent - there is something vaguely rose like (or chamomile like) just barely clinging to your skin. I suppose I do have to accept this statement of rose (and/or chamomile), because, as the perfume begins its final illusory act of disappearance, the ghosts of honeyed florals seem to have touched my skin. Is this enough? Am I compelled? Will I refer to this as a rose chypre, or a chamomile chypre, or something like that? Do I get it? I honestly don't know. I can't stand it when it feels like I'm missing something big in a perfume that others seem to get, particularly the perfumer(s) themselves, and it usually leads me to knocking-off a few points in my final thoughts. But, Le Mat is very intellectually spurring, and at all points in its life it is beautiful, unique, and provoking. It's a mystery in a bottle that will require many if not hundreds of wears before it finally makes sense - but that might not end up being what your Tarot cards say will happen.

Le Mat is beautiful. Smelling it, I am convinced it was created in the 20th century and not the 21st. Roses combined w/ haunting and strange Immortelle. Subtle spices dance w/ the florals and a slight woodiness that doesn't overwhelm the composition bring depth and interest. I find this quite feminine, but a man could wear this if he was so inclined. Le Mat reminds me of Normandie (which I own) by Jean Patou. Not a dupe but they are in the same class. I am glad my friend has sent me these samples that I have been reviewing. I was convinced that Niche perfumes didn't create vintage style perfumes. I've sampled so many Niche fragrances that have been nice and I have bought a few but they are very postmodern. Le Mat is a Niche perfume that smells like I bought at an estate sale that had been stored lovingly by a Grand Dame who knew and enjoyed the finer things in life and knew what a woman should smell like. If you miss vintage style amber perfumes like those that were made by the Former Great Houses of the 20th century, check out Le Mat. It is simply Grand. Bravo! Edit: 12/21/23 I have had a decant of this precious perfume for 2 years. My husband HATED it when I first got it so I did not wear it but I would get it out often to smell it, like aromatherapy. Then as I have been going a long in my perfume journey my husband's taste started to shift. He started to appreciate more complex, vintage and antique perfumes. I just picked up a bottle today and can't wait to get it. What makes this perfume so damn special is first how well blended it is. It is blended like the perfumes of yesteryear; you sense the notes, but they don't POP out at you like in modern perfumes today. It is a perfume that creates a mood, sets the scene and tells a story. It is vintage and smells antique, but it is new and fresh at the same time. Le Mat envelops you in earthy sensuality while it calms and grounds you with its spirituality. The only other perfume I say is in the same class as Le Mat that is produced today (and it is one of my most beloved perfumes as Le Mat is) and that perfume is Rose Boheme by Providence Perfume Company. Both are vintage and not vintage. They have a wild yet grounding quality. A quality that makes you feel connected to yourself, your life and to your surroundings. Both are made w/ the best materials and with loving care. You can tell that with every sniff. I always want both of these beauties in my collection. If you love Le Mat get your nose on Providence Perfume Company Rose Boheme as well. No other Rose/Patchouli combo is needed in any collection except these 2. They are the best and believe me I have smell sooooo many Rose/Patchouli combos it would blow your mind. These 2 are the best of the best in their class. Edit:12/21/23 I just read a professional perfume review of this stunning perfume. I should have remembered it to share but I forgot his name. Anyway, he described Le Mat as the sugared musk of a woman's skin. So many think this perfume is unisex and I suppose all perfumes really are, but I agree with him I have always found Le Mat to be very feminine. It captivates with a sensuality that is beyond words.

Oh Luca... why must you encourage me so? Is it not enough that I buy your books and read your musings? Do I really need to invest in every bottle you adorn with 5 stars? I guess I do. Now I’m not sure that I’m ready to review this. On the three occasions that I’ve worn it, it’s behaved differently each time. That said, the journey may have taken a different course, but it’s arrived at the same place in the end, with each wearing unveiling new facets along the way. I read another review from someone whose opinion I respect describe it as not being rose dominant. I had a completely different experience initially. Juicy, powdery and luscious rose right off the bat. From there it drifted in and out of its floral state, a constant dance between rose and geranium keeping me entertained for hours. But in a subsequent wear, almost no rose at all. Instead, a dusty, dry bouquet of summer herbs delivered over a faintly floral base. What the fck? Now today, an entirely new experience again. The opening is dry and crunchy, like the final remnants of fallen leaves, toasted by the sun and humified to dust where they lay. Rose is present, but it’s initially muted. There’s sweetness, but you have to search for it through what starts as a jarring, heavily peppered immortelle with lashings of earthy spice. Frankly, this sensation is not my favourite. I much preferred the jammyness of the rose from my first experience to this more savoury exhibition of spices. In any case, perseverance rewards patience. The rose unveils itself over time, displaying all the gorgeous pink and powdery facets, becoming increasingly dominant as it wears. The immortelle remains, but it’s subtle now and not challenging, adding a scratchy, textured and dry herbaceous earthiness to what is clearly a rose centred perfume. It’s tenacious. Incredibly tenacious. But in many respects, it feels like each stage is a new thing in and of itself. There’s just so much to like here. I can see entirely why it’s a 5-star perfume. It’s structured, interesting, and as I’ve already said, it changes constantly. It’s as though it’s always moving, and my contrasting wearing experiences can be explained by it being in a constant state of change. Your journey a unique reflection of its movement.

The metamorphism behind olfaction and art: Collecting fragrances was never a thing considering the person I am. The curvature that loops down knowledge and passion is delved deeply into every singular material that I possess, perfumery being one. The fundamental constituents of perfumery and how this art radiates in making deep connections have driven me into this plutonic form of art. And these coherent fragrances are "on" what I invest my time and money on now. Upon shallow evaluation through rigorous study, my recent had to be Le Mat from the house of Mendittorosa. Spicy syrupy immortelle douched in dry rose petals giving off a Gulkand accord, of which most of us from the south Asian territory are familiar to. This particular fragrance, a recent one perhaps, was actually my first proper interaction with a well-done immortelle. It opens up with a mesmerizing boozy, toasty-maple-syrupy, spicy goodness, which to most would never give an impression of a plant, that too a flower. That big dose of immortelle(Helichyrusum Italicum abs) plays sensual harmony with a complex, honey-like rose(rose centifolia) they've implemented with a spicy touch from geranium, nutmeg and cloves right from the initial burst! The boozy facet of the flower slowly fades away, enveloping an earthy, damp, more like the smell we perceive from right before a storm, giving a petrichor esk thing alongside those beautiful sweeter elements. With time a soft, velvety musk starts to procure, giving off an overall representation of the perfect musk of women. An ending of sensuality with love, that makes life so much more special. This one is a masterpiece; if you're more into the indie to artisinal regime of fragrances, there's a big possibility you will fall in love with this. Surely not blind buy worthy, as understanding such divine materials require a broad spectrum of olfactory receptors in action. This gets a solid 10/10 from me and is one of the top 5 rose fragrances I've ever tried.

There are perfumes that have hidden in them the capacity to change the very perception of specific notes for you: Bracken Man has done it to the clove note, Fan Your Flames for coconut and so on, turning them from hate to love for you. While the rose hasn't really been something I hated, like many, I had my struggles with the flower. If not well done, it can be a deal-breaker. it's really a very tender note which is incredibly difficult to master! (Van Cleef and Arpels Moonlight Patchouli, Zegna Indonesian Oud, Declaration D'un Soir etc) What can I say about Mendittorosa Le Mat? Those who own it or have tested it know what I mean. Mendittorosa is one of the few independent houses I truly respect (contrary to popular belief "indie" is hardly synonymous with novelty these days which is really unfortunate. In perfumery, I truly love the idea of taking up a commonplace note or a concept (the rose-patch-spice here) and turning it into something wholly novel and magical. It undoes a lot of rose and patchouli scents for me... it annihilates a lot of ideas in my head regarding olfaction and implants new ones. Roses, patchouli, immortellle, chamomile? woody accords and spices... this could've easily been just an iteration... a cover song so to speak, but that is what artists do, take up an old plot and inject newness! unconstrained by the demands that the market makes on perfumes, Mendittorosa shows what the future has the possibility to hold for us! Le Mat is my new reference rose-patch! and I suspect it will be so for some time to come!