Peau d'Espagne

On one hand, there was the Santa Maria Novella's interpretation of a Spanish Leather accord, and then there is the Oriza L. Legrand take on the theme with a perfume that dates back to 1872 but recently was reorchestrated to fit in today's market and comply with ongoing regulations. While the SMN was a monolithic and rough interpretation, the Oriza feels like a proper Peau D'Espagne perfume, more intricate in its evolution and scent profile. The only thing they share is the opening and the way both portray the leather accord (birchwood heavy). Oriza's take on Peau D'Espagne feels like a front-seat show to the entire process of leather curing and perfuming, all the way to the final product. It tells a beautiful story of how it was done decades ago. The opening is rough and very similar to the SMN, with the smoky birchwood hitting hard, accompanied by citrus and aromatic herbs. However, unlike the SMN, it is less aggressive, with the aromatic and zesty qualities holding on for longer. The leather accord at this stage feels much like raw hide, freshly peeled off and bloody, waiting in the tannery for the curing process. Many people will find the opening overwhelming due to the smokiness combined with that raw hide accord, the herbs, medicinal quality, as well as a prominent urinous facet that I have a hard time placing. The first part of the perfume I'd describe as being "inside the tannery." The second part reveals a great number of floral notes while the smokiness retreats and the leather becomes more supple. The curing takes care of that, while the perfuming process begins with imbuing the garment with various essential oils. I detect jasmine, carnation, and lavender. The latter smells quite powdery and might also play a role in what I'd describe as a "soap" accord that creeps in. Still smoky but more brown in color and floral in smell, with a nice powdery and soapy touch. The final part is beholding the finished product. At this point, the smokiness is subtle while I detect a leather accord that feels dusty-powdery, slightly resinous, and sweet. I picture a nice pair of leather gloves or bookbindings. At this part of the evolution, the resins (styrax, benzoin) play a significant role in creating that soft, smoky-sweet, and dusty sensation, with the styrax most likely continuing to push out the leather-like impression. It is soft, supple, and powdery at this point, a beautiful final product that was worth the wait. This is a proper take on Peau D'Espagne in my books and a well-thought-out composition from start to finish that feels coherent and true to the inspiration. The opening is rough, even rougher than the SMN due to the "bloody" raw hide accord, but if one is patient will be rewarded with an amazing journey. Another thing that I need to mention is the pissy quality of the perfume that, to an extent, reminds me of civettone, albeit not listed. It gives a nice touch to an already vintage composition, but I figure it might not sit well with some people, therefore, I felt like mentioning it. IG:@memory.of.scents

This fragrance puts me in the mind of Aubrey Beardsley drawings, or EJ Bellocq’s Red Light District portraits, or the 1984 film Amadeus. Decadent, mysterious, intimate, sensual, secret, feral, out-of-time, other-worldly. It is difficult for me to pick out individual notes other than a bit of smoky birch tar and carnation, but there are certainly other things going on which contribute to a lux and somewhat acerbic, astringent, salty, and ultimately powdery leather. Some mention a sweetness, but this doesn’t come out so much on me. I understand how some might find the opening challenging. I adore this opening, which more than anything else reminds me of going down on my wife. While smelling nothing like them, Peau d'Espagne calls to mind other sensual ‘body’ fragrances such as Lutens’ Muscs Koublai Khan, Malle’s Une Fleur de Cassie, and Kurkdjian’s Absolue Pour le Soir due to its ability to situate intimate scent associations within personal fragrance. And like the aforementioned, Peau d'Espagne sidesteps meaningful designations of masculine, feminine, unisex. Anyway, when I first sampled Peau d'Espagne I really liked it and lamented I was not the type of person who would buy a full bottle of it. I got over myself and bought a bottle. I have no idea if anyone else would enjoy it on me, and I mostly wear it alone. I never want to be without it. Fwiw, this is fairly dissimilar to Santa Maria Novella’s fragrance of the same name (which is lovely in its own right but completely sidesteps the erotic charge of Legrand's).

What excites me so about Peau d'Espagne from Oriza L. Legrand is just how removed from modernity it truly is. It's old-world sensibility, from a time when conventions of beauty were entirely different from what they are today. The birchwood and styrax that leads is propulsive and phenolic in that almost medicinal sense, not unlike what is experienced in Santa Maria Novella's own Peau d'Espagne, but from here the two diverge. With Oriza's Peau, smoked herbs and woods follow a trail leading to tarry, furry, urinous hides; distant whiffs of the village tannery and all its curing and treating. Indeed, this is a more romanticized notion of a tannery, as blood, pus, dung soup, and so forth would be a more authentic illustration. We spared from these more macabre elements and are presented with something decidedly more sensual to my nose. Things bloom as Peau d'Espange shifts in its heart—lavender, rose, and carnation, a lather against the pelt, a melding of the profane and sacred, carnal and pure. The smoke settles, the unctuous and tarry yield to powder and resin. The hide is rendered more pliable, and the process is complete: we are left with the final product, the smell of flesh transformed. My nose really wants to believe that castoreum is here as well; it definitely smells like there is. As I wear this, a man materializes in my imagination, square jawed, strong brow, beard, hirsute, olive complexion, broad shoulders, all brawn and virtue, and he smells of Peau d'Espagne.

This is outstanding! I just ordered a 100ml bottle and a free 50ml bottle. I had a sample when this first came out and found the initial blast too much but the drydown was fantastic but now after not being impressed with anything new from anyone for a while I retried this and fell in love. It’s different on my daughter’s skin, on her it’s better but I love it so much I’ll wear it anyway. It opens with a strong sweet birch aroma mingled with eucalyptus and then quickly morphs into a pungent bergamot, verbena floral notes. All the front running aromas shimmer and blend to resemble a leather floral old fashioned Chypre. I mean proper old school pre 1970’s perfume. Its initial blast is strong but the drydown is absolutely beautiful, different on everyone depending on your skin. What an ephemeral masterpiece this is. Thank you Oriza, again for making this stuff!!

When I tried it for the first time, I thought "Hmm, this isn't for me." The tar/smoke smell was too strong and put me off. But I just couldn't help but be curious about this perfume. As the temperature dropped, the more I tried it, the more it started to feel like a completely different perfume. The tar/smoke smell that bothered me at first was pleasant, and I could actually smell another scent hidden in it. By the time I was almost done with the sample, I found myself completely in love with this perfume. I immediately ordered a full bottle. I'm looking forward to this wonderful leather note scent contributing to my memories this fall/winter.