Black by Bvlgari

Bought it blindly on recommendation, intrigued by that note of ‘plastic vanilla’. Upon trying it, it was love at first sight: an fragrance outside the ordinary, yet not challenging. Opens with vanilla and rubber, an illogical mix evoking the tender, dusty scent of a brand new plastic doll. As it dries down, leather emerges in a usable, discreet, and sweet way without being cloying. It’s not for the ‘alpha male’, but rather an intimate taste, ideal for cold or spring evenings. It’s not a beast in terms of longevity, but if that plastic vanilla sparks your curiosity, don’t miss out; you won’t regret it.

I picked it up blindly at an outlet because of the bottle. At first, I didn’t like it; it felt synthetic. It’s more of a night scent or for cool days, slightly sweet, spiced, and very distinct. I wasn’t fully convinced by the leather; it sounded artificial, like new plastic or rubber. However, I did appreciate that it was different from autumn/winter perfumes. If you see it, try before you buy this version.

I’ve been sniffing the lift like a bloodhound searching for that smoky, sweet leather scent that was etched in my memory. I discovered it yesterday: it was José, my neighbour of a lifetime. He revealed his secret: Bvlgari Black. It has a unique aroma, an industrial mix of burnt rubber with a warm base of vanilla and amber. It’s not common; it is dark and experimental, yet comforting. It is curious that someone as practical as José would use something so unconventional. Now everything makes sense: his discreet but firm presence is perfectly represented in this fragrance that, like him, is always there when you need it.

It is a sweet fragrance that, if applied heavily, becomes annoying. An uncommon aroma with a tendency towards the feminine, but pleasant if you don’t overdo it. I am not an expert in notes, but it smells like very sweet caramel with vanilla and a hint of acidity. The trail is moderate and lasts about 4-5 hours on my skin.

I bought it straight out of the bottle back around 2000, and I still have half of it left. They said it had black tea and smoked rubber resin, exquisite notes. I only perceived musk, vanilla, sandalwood, and smoked rubber, enough to love it for its singularity. But it has a flaw: such beauty could not be perfect, as its performance always left much to be desired. The trail is barely noticeable, about 4 hours, then skin scent, which is why I never repurchased it.

What a complete and unconventional fragrance, especially for its time. I picked it up at a bargain during a blind buy and was absolutely blown away. Upon spraying, it smells like petrol at first, leading me to think it was violet, but it’s actually bergamot, rose, and leather that give it character. It’s complex and won’t win you over immediately, but I’ve loved it. As it dries down, it loses its acidity and transforms into a cold, plastic vanilla reminiscent of burnt rubber. Sounds unpleasant, but it smells intoxicatingly masculine. It’s a gem; if it were niche, I’d buy it without hesitation. Discontinued, so hard to find, but if you get the chance, you must smell it. Good longevity, over 8 hours; doesn’t project wildly but leaves a trail. Bottle is quirky and looks like a tyre, just like the scent. Scent: 7/10, Longevity: 7/10, Compliments: 6.5/10 (HIGHLY RECOMMENDED)

A delicious work of art… although due to its singularity, it’s not suitable for blind buys.

Update: I’ve just managed to get a 75ml tester and it’s a beauty. Totally better option than what is used nowadays. A perfume gem.

The powdery notes especially appeal to me. They don’t dominate at the start, but as they settle, a familiar chord appears: the same one found in Petits et Mamans by the house. I’m fascinated that it’s almost identical; I wonder if it’s an olfactory signature of Bvlgari. Although not listed in the notes, I perceive something reminiscent of chamomile. It’s soft, calming, almost childish, contrasting with the perfume’s character. It’s as if the child in Petits et Mamans had grown up: now they’re on a motorcycle and wearing leather. The opening is smoky and animal, with marked leather. It reminds me of the smell of clean clothes after a motorcycle ride: air, heat, and something wild. Over time, the rose appears, powdery and soapy, softened by sandalwood. There’s something that transports me to my mother’s 90s makeup. It’s not easy to get into, but it’s worth giving it time. When the heart and base notes arrive, the vanilla and leather balance out and the perfume becomes enjoyable, intimate, and enveloping.

Despite several negative comments, I feel it’s very expressive with magnificent vanilla, amber, and sandalwood. Undoubtedly it’s something old but fits well today. This 90s fragrance is one of my favourites, with great class and personality for the evening. The Bvlgari house has great aromas, and this is one of them.

I bought Bvlgari Black blind years ago. It has an asphalt note that I didn’t notice at first, but after several wears, that ‘vibe’ of burnt rubber and condoms in action (yes, some people call it that) emerges. The opening is super urban with bergamot and leather, although the vanilla gets drowned by a very strong musk that dries out the fragrance. Coumarin is also very noticeable. It reminds me of BDSM, like the Inquisition sketch from Monty Python with the pillows. It’s more masculine, although for me gender is fluid. I love the dry down; it vibrates a bit like Blv Notte. The longevity is good, close to the skin. The bottle is brilliant; I sometimes use it as a paperweight.

The concept is very original. It has two phases: at first it smells ‘new’, like scented erasers (a friend said that). It’s synthetic but interesting; if you apply too much, it can be overwhelming. The second phase is spectacular: non-cloying vanilla and fine leather that blend perfectly. I barely notice the tea. At some point it reminds me of Midnight in Paris, but it improves with time. The dry down is addictive and very attractive. The performance is moderate on my skin. Overall, Black is a minimalist work of great merit, a genuine tour de force, and perfectly unisex.

Bvlgari Black, how much time finding you on the street without knowing you were you? I’ve been looking for a fragrance that comes in casual bursts and has me smelling like a dirty dog for years. I never found it. I caught it years ago in gay discos, corridors of El Corte Inglés or terraces. Every time I lost sight of it until I forgot about it, but my mind returned to that mysterious aroma that obsessed me. Synthetic, long out of fashion and decadent today. I knew it was a men’s perfume from the late 90s due to its androgynous tone. It had echoes of Le Male, but it wasn’t him. It could belong to the Rochas Man family due to the cybernetic and erotic air. I tried 212 Sexy by Carolina Herrera and thought I’d found it, but I knew I was looking for something dirtier, more caked, more sickly. Thanks to a sample from Josesan I discovered it: I almost jumped a tear. I find nothing unisex or feminine; it’s very masculine, with an androgynous, perverse and sexually obscene finish. It makes you think of things you don’t want to do and regret later. I’m sure it has influenced many perfumes in the last twenty years and has hundreds of clones. I’ve caught it non-stop for years. It doesn’t smell of gasoline or fuel to me. I sense an artificial vanilla, more than vanilla, some Danette custard with a latex and preservative powder aftertaste, hints of lead eraser and vinyl, flashes of sexy sweetness thanks to sandalwood to die in a bed of sour musk. I don’t catch the leather, nor the tea; it would be a dark and dense brew. I understand it reminds of a new car, with a tone of new objects. I love it, it makes me stupid and I thought about buying a bottle, which is very pretty. But there’s also something that reminds of what could have been and wasn’t, a youth from twenty years ago that seemed to eat the world and today barely makes ends meet. I suppose defining the launch year so well plays against it, because it confronts you with yourself in the mirror and makes you think of not-so-nice things. Bvlgari Black has got me doubled, made me happy but also a nasty and sad twist thinking about how fast time passes. At the risk of sounding like a know-it-all, I think what was born modern and groundbreaking has turned into something similar to those heavies who after twenty years still wander the same discos, dishevelled, listening to the same 1999 house music and telling the same stories. And no matter how much I love Black, every time I try it I can’t get that idea out of my head.

I should clarify the olfactory family of BLACK by BVLGARI. On the sheet it says Oriental Woody, but my sensation is that it’s Oriental Spiced. It has been curious to me that most reviews on Fragrantica and other websites focus on the smell of gasoline or burnt rubber, as suggested by the bottle imitating a rubber wheel. After trying it three afternoons in a row, I haven’t detected even a hint of gasoline or rubber. Perhaps it has it, but my nose doesn’t notice it. On the contrary, I perceive an unmistakably spiced note, a mix of saffron and pepper, enormously attractive, which reminds me of some oriental by Amouage. I don’t understand how my impression has nothing to do with the general opinion, the bottle, cars or fuels. Not even the name seems appropriate to me. If it were about colours, I would call it CRIMSON RED by BVLGARI, because the spilled spices are of the intense and bright red genus, proper of saffron. If about the bottle, I would use a resounding oriental container, like a red and gold oil cruet: crimson red glass with repoussé leather and gold metal. Of all BVLGARI perfumes, this is the most decidedly oriental. Following my perception, I also detect not the slightest hint of tea. I’ve read references to green tea or Lapsang Souchong, Chinese smoked tea with a smell of ash and cedar fires. Could that aroma be what I detect as saffron and pepper? This variety of tea is also used in Chinese cooking to give a smoked flavour without smoking. In any case, the smell of BLACK by BVLGARI for me is delicious; I’m a lover of oriental perfumes. The spiced accord mixes with the rose, sandalwood, jasmine and vanilla, composing an exquisite effluvium, worthy of the best perfumes of the Silk Road. Again, the fleeting passage of a woman wrapped in red and black silks and muslins, mysterious in her walk, unforgettable in the aroma that permeates the air after her fleeting steps, brings me back to the Alhambra of that Cordoba that always haunts a corner of my memory.

Too much for me. That smell of burnt rubber… mixed with that powerful vanilla is difficult for me to keep on my skin. I’ve tried, but no.