Patchouli Eau de Parfum by Molinard

Bought Molinard Patchouli blind and, truth be told, it didn’t disappoint. It opens with a clean, direct, earthy patchouli, free from sweetness or modern gimmicks. There’s an initial citrus note, like orange, which adds freshness but fades quickly. A floral touch, probably geranium, softens it without losing its character. On my skin, patchouli takes the lead: dry, elegant, and classic. The base notes aren’t fully developed yet; it needs more time. To me, it smells distinctly masculine, neither harsh nor overly vintage. Good longevity and moderate sillage; it’s an honest, well-made fragrance true to its name. An unpretentious patchouli with real personality.

It opens like nitrogenated peas, a violent green of asparagus that’s quite frightening, leaning more towards cat urine than anything else. As it dries, soap enters the picture: old, floral and musky, combining with that damp-basement patchouli. But the Molinard doesn’t smell of ruins or old age; rather, it’s a sepia-toned filter from the 19th century. It evokes a white bathtub with lion legs and an ornamental tap. For me, it’s a bubble bath in the countryside with rain outside. Note: as it dries, it becomes dirtier, the green fades, and the musks and rough camphor notes rise. There is a funereal aspect, but very aseptic, nothing gore. It’s a tidy grave, a civilised and sexy dead man, like the villains in The Mummy.

It’s turned my stomach. It was a blind buy, a sport I love. I’m not much of a gambler, but buying perfume without testing it carries a risk I enjoy; it reminds me of surprise bags at fairs, where sometimes you’d get shit on a stick, yet you kept buying for the thrill. In this case, I didn’t like Molinard’s Patchouli, but it’s far from shit on a stick; it’s a good fragrance. It opens, develops, and closes with patchouli. Watch out: nothing like the fluorescent patchouli of Angel or the fruity patchoulis of the past decade, that sweet-and-sour neon. Here, there’s patchouli of mothballs and closed cupboards, the classic kind. It has an earthy touch, but not as damp and barrel-aged as I prefer; it’s bushy, with that narcotic hint of decomposing earth. It makes me think of a warren, and that’s how patchouli smells. It resembles Villoresi’s, but that one is rougher and tarred by the acidity of a terebinthine lavender that stings. This one is calmer, yet not easy; it’s not. It smells of sarcophagi, royal exoticism, and fungal nature. And damn, I love the fungal aspect, and the earthy too, but it feels too sharp and fermented. I think the geranium, with its yeast-like floral aftertaste (which I’ve never stood), helps the patchouli gain a side of oppressive, dirty oil. I don’t detect the sandalwood or neroli, only vanilla from the heart phase onwards, pressed, fortified, and woody like crème brûlée. Overall, an excellent perfume, decent quality, patchouli and geranium, very English and strict. They say it’s unisex; to me, it’s masculine, lacking or having too much for me to wear. If you like it, the longevity is very good and it shines with grace. PS: Molinard has a catalogue of the best; Habanita is in great condition, and its flanker La Cologne surprises with quality and beauty in this era of single-note perfumes.

Bought a small bottle recently. Obviously, the patchouli is noticeable from start to finish, but on my skin the dry-down feels a bit ‘rough’, perhaps due to the vanilla. I use it a lot because I love patchouli, even though it’s not very well regarded in my country; I mix it with a jasmine perfume from L’Erbolario. Anyway, it has good projection for a few hours and is very long-lasting. I absolutely love it!