Muscs Koublai Khan

How I adore that strong civet opening! Brutal and strange, almost cruel. Metallic, yet warm. Fans of Lutens/Sheldrake will recognize this approach to perfume openings from soliflores like Tubereuse Criminelle and Iris Silver Mist that are scarcely more approachable (although the rest of the scent can scarcely be regarded as a civet “soliflore”). After a few minutes, the punch of the opening dissipates into a cloud of cool musks, warmed by the labdanum that is the signature of this scent as much as anything from the animal kingdom. The cumin is faint but persistent. On my skin, it doesn’t necessarily read as BO (as it does in, for instance, Papillon’s Salome), but does add a kind of welcome savory presence. There is a bodily quality to this perfume, and it isn’t afraid to deviate from a “clean” musk profile, but there are no photorealistic allusions to any specific body part, in large part due to the other through line of MKK’s development: its oriental character. The labdanum and (I think) ambergris—and much later a welcome, cool, almost floral vanilla—give this something of an amber profile throughout the drydown, but MKK brings out the qualities of these ingredients that are usually toned down in more conventional ambers. The tarry, slightly animalic labdanum is for me the most difficult aspect of this perfume. Although on most days I adore it, sometimes it just feels too much like creme brûlée-smeared leather (yes, that is the most negative thing I can say about this scent). The individual animalic notes are difficult to discern. I’m reminded of Mark Rothko’s strategy of layering many thin layers of pigment to produce a luminous, rich swath of color. But instead of “red,” here we have “mammal.” I will say that the animalic accord is not ambrette-dominated (as ambrette tends to read as sweet/lactic on my skin and that is certainly not the key feature of this musk). There is a distinct civet edge throughout, but the musk at other times feels metallic, furry, or velvety. This is not a white musk, but a cool silvery one that delivers a series of almost tactile intensities. In this sense, I think there is a clever play with genre. Whereas orientals tend to be “lush,” piling on resin after resin, here the animalics get that approach (where they are usually intended to operate as a singular accord even if many components are used) while the amber accord remains almost skeletal. Toward the end of the second hour, the rose finally emerges (it surprises me every time!), fleshing out the composition and subtly bridging the animalic and amber accords. For a moment there would be no difficulty enjoying this fragrance for even the most prudish nose. The musks are now furry and powdery, the rose is delicate, almost demure, and the amber elements bring a grounding warmth to this decadent cloud of fragrance. But soon that brazen labdanum and the striking civet from the opening punch strike back. From here it is a fairly long linear drydown until I am left with just that naked labdanum at the end of the day. Occasionally I can detect the patchouli 8 or more hours in but most days I can’t. While not precisely fecal, the labdanum is a dirty and lumpish note and I always have to laugh at how turdlike it is when it drops out of all the other notes after 12+ hours. Apparently labdanum was first harvested by combing it out of the beards of goats that had been grazing on rockroses. MKK reminds me of what that process must have felt like: at the end of the hairy process we are left with this unadulterated resin. Indeed, this fragrance might be better understood conceptually as a study of labdanum than of the titular musks, even if the animalics are much more prominent at most stages of the drydown. This is as close to an “signature scent” as I have. I don’t know that I could ever pick a favorite perfume at the exclusion of all others—could I live without iris? tuberose? tobacco?—but this is certainly a “god tier” number for me. And, despite the myriad horrified reviews, so versatile! I have worn this to the office many times without any comment at all—even when the desk next to mine was occupied by a fellow perfumista. This may cooperate or not with your skin chemistry or nose, but its intimate sillage keeps MKK a personal experience. At least with the bell jar splash bottle, it is difficult to overapply. The composition overall is exquisitely balanced despite moments of provocative extremity. The juxtaposition of warm labdanum with (to my mind) cool animalics ensures that this can be at least a 3 season staple. I find that the animalics and rose blast in warmer weather, becoming an addictive spring and even summer scent, whereas in the winter they hold back and let the warmth of the labdanum shine through.

This is probably the most overrated Serge Lutens perfume - or, maybe I shouldn't say overrated, but perhaps overhyped instead? Either way, my position that this perfume needs to be brought down a peg or two should not lead you to think that I believe this perfume to be less than great, because it is great. But can we all just calm down a bit, please? Let me explain: We've had this "thing" many times before 1998, and many times since. Why would you blindly consider this over musk perfume offerings from Jovan, Coty, or Kiehl's? Honestly, you probably shouldn't; it would be well worth your time to compare to see where your nose gravitates. They are considerably cheaper and will likely scratch your musky itch just as well. How about Musc Ravageur? That's just an updated Shalimar, with a lot more going on than Muscs Koublai Khan, so if you find MKK to be spartan and cold then certainly look to the Malle but MR is more about the amber than the musk (especially in recent formulations). How about Musc Tonkin? MT is sex in a bottle. Though it's not rude, it will make you feel like you might be pushing the envelope of public decency laws. If that bothers you, MKK is more to your taste. Then there's Kouros, the 80s atom bomb of musk, who has quite a bit more going for it than MKK in addition to being significantly bolder and confident. Kouros is still in solid shape even after 40+ years, and it will satisfy your filthy animal needs while adding beautiful lavender and spices, and plenty of attention. (Side note: Sheldrake and Bourdon spent a lot of time together in those Lutens early years, a few years after Bourdon composed Kouros. Did he give Sheldrake a trick or two?) Speaking of Kouros, why not its forefather, Jicky, the OG civet/musk explosive that's nearly a 100-years MKK's senior? Jicky will shock you while also sending you into cardiac arrest with its knee-buckling lavender beauty. Though comfortable, confident and self-assured I am, not enough so to wear Jicky outside of my house; that says enough. I hate name dropping in reviews, it's a cheap cop-out, so I'm going to stop there. I think the point is well-made: there are a ton of musk perfumes out there, and to find one that "does what you want it to do" better than MKK (and for a lot cheaper) is a very easy task. So, why then am I not writing-off MKK? All of that name dropping was necessary to describe what Muscs Koublai Khan does very well, which is to live comfortably in the middle of all of those perfumes. Like Switzerland during the war, it's neutral. You won't force MKK to pick a side, or challenge anyone. It smells more sophisticated than its mass-market counterparts; silk compared to their denim. It is not as much of a lout as Tonkin, Jicky, or Kouros; wearing those will likely cause officers of the law to question what you're up to. It keeps things simple and pretty in the best of minimalist fashion when perfumes like Musc Ravageur have just a bit too much going on for your mood or season, and you just want a pretty musk. Don't believe the echo chamber that MKK is all raunch and filth and animal evacuations. It isn't. Not anywhere close. This isn't Koublai Khan belting a Mongolian war cry while he hacks an enemy in half with a saber. This is Koublai in private quarters, at his most cosmopolitan, ingratiatingly welcoming to foreign dignitaries and scholars to gain their culture and knowledge to help advance his own, genuinely wishing for a neutral, modern, and cross-cultural Mongol nation. The well-judged rose note is perfectly placed to give elegance and beauty, slightly pulling back the animalic reigns, without going near full-feminine-floral territory. Additionally, the also well-judged patchouli and warm vanillic labdanum in the base keeps the Khan's summit relaxed and rich. MKK is quite pretty, quite calm, pleasantly evocative and not particularly pushy, elegant and sophisticated. Muscs de Suisse.

Muscs Koublai Kahn is a legend for a reason. This is the best synthetic musk perfume to ever bestow the fragrance world. But there's more to this than just Musk (synthetic accord). Quick reformulation tip/advice, THE CURRENT VERSION SMELLS IDENTICAL TO THE VINTAGE, please don't spend 500 USD on vintage bottles. I have a vintage bottle and tested the Gratte Ciel version side by side, blotter, skin, it smells identical. This one is my favorite Serge Lutens perfume ever and one of my favorite perfumes of all time, so trust me on this. Get yourself samples of all versions if you are skeptical, but of all Serge Lutens reformulations, MKK is probably the best preserved and close to the old vintage version. Don't feed the Fragcom trolls. Back to the scent. To me, MKK showcases a very true-to-life synthetic Musk Accord. Sheldrake really did magic with this one. The musk is there but there's a lot more going on of course. There are many other animalic notes used here, civet, ambergris, castoreum, ambrette, and lots of cumin. So, as you can imagine, this is quite a dirty perfume. However, we are talking here about Sheldrake who has proved himself again and again, so he doesn't just throw in all the animalic notes hoping for the best. He balances out the dirty facets with very well-placed resins, that sweeten up the perfume, a hint of rose, a touch of honey. He depicts, in perfume form, the duality of the Kahn, a fierce warrior but at the same time a man of great wisdom and tenderness. The perfume behaves in a similar fashion, it's dirty and provocative, and it's in your face, but maintains a constant restraint, warmth, and gentle feel. It isn't as dirty and animalic as many have made it up to be, but of course, it depends on where you are in your fragrance journey. I find it incredibly sexy. Downright erotic. A real legend, from a legendary house. The fact that Serge Lutens has kept this scent true to its original form and that they are still selling bottles when they could have discontinued or reformulated it in order to save money and move more, just shows why this house is still above most if not all niche houses out there. To me, top 3 Musk perfumes ever, alongside EO 2 and Onthamara, those two using the natural stuff. This is just as good and evocative though. Hats off.

Opens with the most high-quality musk I have ever smelled in perfume. As it develops, you get a warm and cozy, radiant amber. The animalic notes can only be detected if you bring your nose very close to where the perfume was applied, and it smells a little like dirty socks. If you were ever curious what natural deer musk smells like, this fragrance is a great representation of it. I only tried this fragrance because I wanted to challenge myself as I had heard it's very potent and animalic. However, to my surprise, this is one of the best smelling perfumes I have ever smelled. It smells like a man. Not a bad boy, not an F-boy, not a red-pilled manosphere hustler pimp with hypersensitive feelings. A real man! A man that makes you feel comfortable and protected to be around. A man that when you're in trouble, and he shows up, you you can breathe a sigh of relief because you know you'll be safe. I don't mean this in any way sexual. This "man" is subjective. He might be your father, he might be your older brother, he might even be your partner, but whatever the case, you cherish this man and are grateful to have him in your life. Other than the initial open, the entirety of this fragrance is pretty linear. It's warm, clean, and musky. I seriously can't get anything dirty or skanky, maybe it's my skin chemistry? Idk Projection for this fragrance is pretty moderate at best, but that's okay because this is a fragrance that you don't want overly projecting. Longevity is pretty decent at about 7 to 8 hours on my skin before it's a skin scent. Now that I have tried this fragrance, it is on my list of must-haves. Sadly where I am, this fragrance seems to be discontinued. I'm finding 75ml bottles from private sellers going anywhere from 500 to 800 USD. Guess I have to find a way to go to France and buy it directly from the source!

For all that is said about reformulations of brands due to regulations, no matter what happens to SL's house, these fragrances still evoke a dark passion that will never be exceeded by regulations. I can't care about reformulations, because years down the line it will continue to happen for all eternity, fragrances will never stay the exact same. That leads me to this fragrance. Who knows if it's been reformulated, I don't care, it's still amazing. I've always been hit and miss with musk fragrances, I like the idea of them but not the execution usually. MKK starts off with a blast of a cumin-like spice before quickly settling in to the musk portion of the fragrance. It's hard to really indicate how this smells, but it smells like heat, if that makes the sense. Like if something is very hot on the stove, not the smell of burning but just the heat portion, again only Christopher Sheldrake can somehow cast this effect into a smell. The musk here is not very dirty, and I think the dirtiest part is when that cumin-like (caraway?) spice shows its face and with the musk can come off like sweaty "parts". But really I think this is a smooth, non-powdery, slightly sweet and clean musk with a dirty facet coming from other sources. After coming back into fragrances, I kind of put this house to the side, but after smelling other brands like Guerlain and Frederic Malle, I needed something that felt like it was created not to sell tons of bottles, but something that has a distinct, Dracula in a Victorian-era vibe; a darkness that only this house can produce. A passion that is unrivalled when it comes to non-artisanal brands. MKK is a great picture of this.