Patchouli Magnetik by Maison Crivelli

I’ve been forcing myself to like this perfume for several months… but nothing, I just don’t like it. I love Quentin and most of the declared notes I adore: peach, I’m obsessed with it; patchouli, I like it; resins, vanilla, sandalwood… I like it, I love it, and it drives me crazy… but for something beyond logic and comprehension, this combination results in being tremendously unpleasant to me. I’m sorry Quentin, but this time, you’ve failed me. It smells to me like synthetic fruit chewing gum and something rancid. Joe, and it makes me angry, because Maison Crivelli has atomic bombs, but their creations don’t result in being pleasant to me. None of them. Longevity and projection are unsurpassed. Every time I apply it to give it a new chance to see if something has changed, I realise it still doesn’t please me and I have to rub my hands with bleach to get rid of this scent. It’s eternal. Horribly eternal.

Do you remember the expression: ‘no soup for you, take three full cups’? That’s what comes to my mind when the fruity, sparkling opening and immediately the oud together with the peach ‘force’ a charming, dedicated patchouli upon you, as if it were a prank, dedicated to all those who utter the words: ‘I don’t like patchouli’. The sparkling fruity opening and the addictive, balsamic dry-down, leading to a soft caress of peach on the skin, make it so that if you let them try the perfume without showing the name, it’s probable they would like the patchouli. Not because it masks the patchouli; the patchouli is felt and felt a lot, but because it presents the patchouli in a friendly embrace. Perhaps it’s a reconciliation with patchouli for the non-patchouli. And of course, if you like patchouli, you will love it. After three and a half hours on the skin, the patchouli softens and the most comforting part begins to emerge. It’s a delight. I would use it for intense, social nights, where at the same time, in the morning, I have a special interest in waking up with a delicate peach fragrance on the skin, as if nothing had happened. The line between masculine and feminine at Maison Crivelli is quite sinuous. However, I feel very comfortable with Patchouli Magnetik by Maison Crivelli. And other women I know have said: ‘it smells good’ when I didn’t expect it in this ‘prank’.

The second time I tried it, it hooked me again. Imagine a red filter in a movie for rage or in a video game for death; this is like a neon orange filter for a manic episode. It’s an impeccable fruity patchouli, without tar or earthiness, all varnished and polished, yet without losing that madness. It’s a song: ‘Not Enough Violence’ by Ariel Pink.

This scent generates a great rejection in me.

At first, that patchouly sweetness felt cloying to me, but once it dries after half an hour or an hour, pfff, it’s a delight for me. I’d even say that some people who don’t like patchouli could enjoy it. Obviously, if it’s noticeable, but the blend with that white flower, sandalwood, and peach creates a very creamy peach with that sweet, half-chocolatey, half-green patchouli… for me, it’s very pleasant in its dry-down, especially after a few hours. It leaves a scent that isn’t like most perfumes, which are almost always the same; it’s a special scent for me that projects and lasts perfectly for 24 hours in my experience… and that’s what I love. I can’t stop feeling that creamy, peach-infused patchouli, which isn’t as invasive in its notes as other more strident perfumes. I have a habit of buying the 100ml bottles, but this time, leave the habit aside and go for its only format, the 50ml.

It smells like the gym brother of a watermelon bubblegum that’s had enough and only sees water to quench its thirst. It stuck to my hoodie for weeks and smelled as if it had just come out of the bottle.

It smells like patchouli butter: thick, creamy, milky and resinous. It evolves a lot; at first the peach stands out, then the butter fades but the creaminess remains to give way to gardenia without losing that chocolate-flavoured patchouli. The projection is brutal; you leave a trail all over the street. The longevity is 24 hours, noticeable right on the skin and even after a shower. If you overdo the amount, it becomes overwhelming. It’s difficult to handle; if you’re a patchouli lover, you’ll miss more purity, but it’s a must-try.

First impression: some Zara Home Mikados. Very potent, dark and sinister. The Mikados of Satan’s hallway. The scent that lingers on the skin is a dazzling, overwhelming woody note. The sillage, however, is a cloud of custard smog and egg custard. It seems like the abstraction and purification of a disco perfume. But it maintains that curious ambivalence between a procurer and Martha Stewart.

One of the perfumes that has produced the most rejection in me; it smells like rancid chocolate with peach and playdough.