Oeilleres L'Objet Parfumant

I received a sample of this over a year ago as part of a very generous stash of samples from a fellow Fragrantician with whom I did a sample swap, and since they all came in identical vials I decided to do a blind test for each, applying them without prior knowledge of name or brand to allow a total absence of bias. Many of them were niche, many of them expensive and unusual Oeilleres, however, was one of the few that instantly made me sit up and go ‘wow’ It’s that time of the year again where I’m itching to buy perfume as a gift for myself so I decided to return to the vial of Oeilleres. As luck would have it the vial was not tightly sealed and in the few minutes it lay recumbent on my bedside table most of it drained out. So now I and my bedside table are wearing an overdose (probably over a milliliter) of Oeilleres and the expeireince is wonderful (and quite different depending on material surface) On the table (and now on the book which I’ve placed on it, quite fortuitously Gore Vidal’s ‘The Season of Comfort’ which is happy soaking up the scent) it is immediately green and herbal. The comforting chamomile tea aroma really predominates on paper, with a cardamom and honey nuance which gives it a very carefree air. In a way it is pretty fortunate that of all the scents I could have spilled and needed to mop up with my hand, it was Oeilleres - plenty of other perfumes, even beautiful ones, would necessitate a good few minutes at the sink making like Lady Macbeth if accidentally encountered in quantities greater than a couple of sprays. This smells like something a brand like Aesop might do as a scent for a hand cream when they want to convince the customer that they are ‘fragrance-free’ - distinctly natural and yet luxurious - that expensive ambient spa scent redolent of vacations in exotic locales. The outdoors is definitely encapsulated in a bottle here - but more the agrestic outdoors, tamed by the human hand: hay bales, mown grass, maybe a distant cow pat. It speaks of the benevolent bounty of nature rather than the scary wild wood. Definite reminders of that scent which prompted me to join Fragrantica - Memoir D’Une Odeur. That one too, is noted for its chamomile-centred profile, but Oeilleres ultimately wins the quality contest. On skin, however, is where it really blossoms. And the artistic intention of Roberto Greco begins. What were once showy blooms are now desiccated and indistinct in texture or colour from stems or leaves; the hiearchy of beauty once dominated by the flower no longer exists now that life and moisture has left them. The vase water from which they nourished their vibrant petals has gone stagnant. But unlike corpses, this isn’t a crypt of cold, decomposing things. Dead flowers still maintain their eternal life force; if anything, the bloom has to fade for fecundity to take over, Oeilleres unveils its sensuality on skin and becomes primarily a birch-infused supple suede rounded off with one of my favourite resins, benzoin, with enough heft to site it well within the realm of ‘manly man’ perfumery for those of the male persuasion who are terrified of inadvertently wearing the olfactory equivalent of lacy panties. Also, for all its conceptual aspirations, Oeilleres manages to not come off as pretentious in the slightest because it genuinely is a beautiful wearable scent without any jarring oddity.. no single component deliberately pokes its head out to proclaim a ‘theme’, but once you know the backstory, that sweep from fresh and herbal in the initial application to intense leather becomes all the more vivid. Spray some on both skin and fabric to allow that beautiful hay aspect to tinge the leather throughout its wear and maintain its true intent. P.S. I woke up in the middle of the night ten hours after first applying it liberally to the crook of my arm, and detected something very familiar. And then it occured to me - the drydown, only when liberally applied (probably four sprays in the same area) bears a striking resemblance to Hermes’s Bel Ami. So yes, definitely a classy gentlemanly fragrance in the drydown. Projection isn’t strong, but a delight to smell up close.

I have been hoarding Luckyscent samples of this one, after missing out on my opportunity to purchase the last available bottle before it got snatched up - while I was checking out! Thanks to some amazing people in Fragcomm, I was able to order a bottle from Paris, so in celebration of putting my search for this to rest, I will now review, Oeilleres - my scent-of-the-day as I go to close on a home - a first in my life. I'll cut to the chase now - this is a truly beautiful perfume. There are perfumes that are stunning, divine, transportive, artistic, emotional, unique, and special, and then you have perfumes that are *beautiful* - a descriptor often overused. In addition to this being all of the aforementioned, this is one of those bottles that is truly, to its core... Beautiful. I'm not a fan of cumin in perfume at all. The sweaty, hot, sour body odour notes it can often lend typically ruin a composition for me. Here, though, we see it used in a different way. It's very, very detectable, but it lends this soft, hazy warmth, that I can only describe as an early autumn morning, transitioning into midday, with the breeze winding down and allowing the sun to cast a gently warm glow over a meadow - and you know, in your very soul, this is the last warm day you'll experience all year. Broom is a funny note. I typically can't describe it, but it gives the same effect in everything I've smelled it in. A dry, dusty, almost grainy dried tall grass with a hay-like coumarin and musky floral undertone. Here, it's bolstered by pollen, which is one of the keys to this composition, lending a sweet dusty vegetal nuance - almost fennel-like, which replaces what green notes would typically contribute. It also brings a little bit of spring and summer into this otherwise agrestic early autumn perfume. I get eucalyptus as more of a heart note, as its intensity in the opening burns off pretty quickly, giving way to cumin. In the heart, it isn't an astringent or medicinal eucalyptus E.O., but rather, reminds me of the eucalyptus groves in late summer, as they drop their buttons and the bark begins to peel and curl - the cool mentholic woody scent that fills the air as the sun heats up. Finally, the chamomile - a flower that grows in many places, often not far from eucalyptus and the agrestic aroma of sun-baked hay, lavender, broom and pollen that all define a particular time of year in a particular type of place. The chamomile isn't tea-like, rather, it's a dusty-sweet, dried bud that's crushed between your fingers and flies away in the breeze. It pairs brilliantly with pollen. Everything I've described lies on a bed of soft, fuzzy, almost furry musk. I understand it to be a botanical musk interpretation, but the eucalyptus, pollen, and cumin work to give it an *almost* Siberian deer musk quality. It really stays on the skin and slowly unfurls, winding down and down and down, until you're left with the airy, fluffy remnants, much like the silky threads of the milkweed pods that open, as autumn draws nearer and nearer. I could go on and on describing notes and accords, and it'll do very little justice. To me, this is the embodiment of the changing of seasons. The languid haze of late summer, right as autumn sets in. The drying flora, taking on a faint golden cast. The buzzing country meadows and fields, slowly winding down, as the winds begin to shift. A picturesque pollinated portrait. The gorgeous glow of goldenrod. An assimilation of antiquity and anachronism. A narrative of nostalgia with a hazy halo. Oeilleres is a masterpiece of artistic perfumery. A genuine gem. A perfect perfume.

Oeilleres is the first perfume in the current line of three, released in a limited number by photographer Roberto Greco. The nose behind this is one of my favorite perfumers, Marc-Antoine Corticchiato, the master of Agrestic perfumes, creating once more, an agrestic wonder. Roberto calls this perfume an anti-floral, but also a half-animalic perfume. To me, it is certainly anti-floral, as it shies away from using any tangible floral materials, opting for the shrubs, the "flowers" of the fields. But the other part of it, to me, comes across as a portrayal of the inevitable decay and death of living matter and the inevitable process of the body's degradation. Behind the conceptual, however, Oeilleres is an agrestic perfume through and through, and a beautiful one at that. And there is something in the base that almost comes across as "alive". It really makes me think of waking up in the morning, before sunrise, and taking a stroll through the fields, starting and getting the work done early for the day. The early morning air is crisp and cool even during Summer, and so is the bracing opening of this fragrance, as eucalyptus and lavender provide an almost mentholated, fresh, and cold opening. But as the sun's rays start to warm up the landscape, so do the spices, mostly cumin with its humanistic smell, again, hinting to the human condition, and then the various field florals like chamomile which supports the eucalyptus and its medicinal flavor but also bringing in a more soothing touch, broom, clover, and sweet hay. Pollen permeates the air as insects start their rounds from flower to flower. The heart of this perfume is all about the dry, herbaceous, sweet, and honeyed aroma of these beautiful yet misunderstood plants. In the base, smoky resins, and lots of musks, together with cumin come along to create the impression of leather, or rather, human skin. There is also a strong oiliness to the perfume at this stage, which only helps to ground that imagery. Thick, sweaty human skin. Wrinkled, and sweated by the hardships of fieldwork and ages. The evolution is steady and certain, and the composition is vivid at all times. There is beauty in nature, and there is certainty in decay. If you ask me, I always preferred the field florals and the shrubs to roses, tuberose, or jasmine. I find more comfort in them, and maybe that's why I love agrestic smells so much. IG:@memory.of.scents

The best part of Oeillères? Its disarmingly beautiful dry down, whose radiant grace evokes that last hot day of an Indian summer. Yes, the opening must be overcome, that's undeniable. You have to apply the essence and let it develop, be patient because within the next hour, a vortex of astringent, leathery, green, dry, animalic, and indolic scents forms around you. But give the perfume time to travel the necessary distance so that it reveals its secret to you. Only the deserving will obtain it, because many will abandon the race, overcome, without asking for their rest; a matter of natural selection. Oeillères won me over because it masterfully summons opposites in a composition that appears completely improbable but ultimately results in the transmutation of the ugly into the beautiful, of the chrysalis into a butterfly. A chronological unfolding close to Fréderic Malle's oriental tale The Night but here in a bucolic autumnal register. Oeillères sets off in an infernal, bitter and suffocating flight of brutal, primary and visceral scents, then after multiple torments, however necessary for the birth, it is the timid emergence of a floral charm saturated with maturity on the verge of fading, from which is born as if by "miracle" (dazzling and unexpected acceleration of a natural process) this astonishing olfactory metamorphosis letting the repulsive fade in a fierce struggle for its survival in order to finally preserve only the fusion of the most glorious and solar parts of the materials in their decomposition for a descent towards this divine Fougère embalming the end of afternoons in paradise. Oeillères (2017) is the synthesis between an already existing perfume, the mystical Tabac Tabou (2015) and the upcoming one prefiguring the animalic and racy universe dear to the perfumer, Ruade (2024).

First of all thank you Roberto for sending me a sample of Oeillères. Of course curious as I am I had to seek out more info and I learned that the perfume Oeillères was part of an Art Project by Roberto. Also had to look up what the word Oeillères actually means. As I found out oeillères are blinders worn by horses. Now of to the fragrance. The first spray of Oeillères is a very herbal blast. I cannot really determine what it is exactly, But it's fresh and warm at the same time and very natural and animalic. Also very different from anything I smelled before, but at the same time Oeillères definitely has the Marc-Antoine Corticchiato signature. The first time I sprayed Oeillères the opening was too overwhelming, but after testing several time I must say I especially like the opening. After the first blast Oeillères slowly transforms into a warm and easier to wear fragrance. Nothing sharp, but very balanced and refined. Oeillères smells green like fresh herbs and with my nose glued to my wrist I can definitely smell the fresh chamomile. (I might be focussed on it, because I used to pick wild chamomile when I was a kid. My mother boiled it into a brew for my older sister so she could rinse her white hair.) The chamomile is nicely blended with other herbal notes creating a lovely fragrance, although unisex I feel it's leaning more towards masculine. Oeillères also has a slight barbershop smell to it, at least the middle part does. In the drydown the scent mellows into a warm scent and eases the animalic qualities (but is still slightly present) and it just smells nice, warm and inviting. This stage is definitely unisex. Projection is close to the skin. Very unique fragrance.