Stercus by Orto Parisi

Although the name and marketing are brutal, on the skin it smells incredibly clean. It starts with a soft but present oud and an earthy patchouli that adds depth without being dark. Then come chocolatey nuances, more intense and drier than in Boccanera, as if that sweet part was made to go with the wood. It’s a rare balance between cleanliness, wood, and a dark sweetness. It lasts a long time; the trail is noticeable but doesn’t invade. Stercus defies expectations and smells more polished than its name suggests.

Here we have the Oud of the series. Smelling the bottle, I thought of Boccanera for that Gualtieri DNA, but then, in the opening and especially the dry down, it distances itself to infinity. I think it is one of the best dry downs I have ever smelled: exquisite. Elegant, dark woods and totally wearable in a semi-casual way (leather jacket and jeans). As is usual, the 50ml lasts like a bucket. Beware of over-application; it’s the typical perfume that goes from charm to horror with one extra spray. Literally: one spray on the jugular guarantees night-long maximum performance and you wake up smelling it. If you go out during the day, two sprays and that’s the red line. For Oud fans, it should be first if you plan to buy an Orto Parisi. Who said Black Afgano was more beastly? I have both, and Black Afgano is a caramel next to Stercus.

The dry-down smells animalic, but once settled it’s similar to Boccanera, though more woody, drier, more sober and elegant, without that spicy note that Boccanera has and makes it more informal. It has a grotesque name, but the fragrance is very refined. Update: this review is from a decant. On the skin it evolves faster. The opening oud is more ‘standard’ than you might imagine in an exclusive fragrance; there are designer ouds that smell the same. You notice the famous ‘shavings of pencil’, with memories of Gucci Pour Homme, Bentley Absolute or Montale Dark Aoud. The perfume oscillates between oud, almond liqueur, vanilla, wood, chocolate and tobacco. From the atomiser it smells like freshly polished leather shoes. I reiterate that I’m not exaggerating when I say the dry-down has OUTSTANDING quality, something I’ve rarely felt (perhaps in the air of Tauer’s desert). Regarding performance, in my experience it leaves much to be desired. It’s quite intimate and goes unnoticed in open places, with many people or with other potent aromas.

I took several decants of Orto Parisi, including Stercus, which over time has become one of my favourites. For me, the dominant note is a Russian leather, but very well wrapped in the typical amber of Gualtieri. I don’t see it as a difficult perfume, neither for me nor for those who smell it; perhaps the most ‘stercus’ moment is at the start, where barely a hint of goat or sheep pen smells are noticed, a pleasant animal, smoky and dry-grass aroma. Then comes that leathery and ambered mix that accompanies you well for many hours. I’ve used it in the cold and in the heat and it works great. I’ve also tried putting a few sprays on the wrist alongside 4 or 6 of Nasomatto Pardon, which lasts little, just like Brutus by Orto Parisi. It’s a mix that works by reinforcing the short-lived nature of one with the robustness of the other. I have affection for Gualtieri; not many people smell like this, he has several perfumes with such power and performance that having the full bottle may not be necessary, 5ml can give you a lot!

From my Orto Parisi collection, this is the one that fits me least, although it’s not that it’s a bad fragrance. From the very first moment you notice Gualtieri’s hand; it seems a Frankenstein between Bocca Nera and Black Afgano, or a middle ground between the two. Longevity is excellent, as in the whole brand (with the exception of Viride), and the projection reaches half a metre, nothing invasive. Undoubtedly a top option for the cold, and no, it doesn’t smell like dung as Andrea says below; I don’t know where he must have smelled that scent, perhaps cows in Kobe.

Perhaps the strangest fragrance in my collection, and one of the best. Before buying it, you must win an internal battle. It’s called manure, it has the colour of shit, and it comes from a mad mind in the fragrance world. The first time you smell it, you expect the worst, but nothing happens. You find a warm, sweet, and captivating scent, with notes of chocolate, musk, carnal flowers, earth, fungi, and something dense like balsam of Peru. I wore it on a difficult workday and it performed fearfully well: it made me feel comforted, as if wrapped in a halo of protection, yet carnal and sexual without being aggressive. Like Seminalis, it doesn’t literally smell of semen or an anus, but it evokes something atavistic in our minds. Its art is to take declared unpleasant smells and make them beautiful and desirable. It’s one of the few that has stopped me on the street to ask, and although they are left speechless upon learning it is manure, they do. Ideal for cold climates. I liked it and decided to buy it regardless of what others think. I didn’t expect compliments, but they come.

Perhaps the strangest perfume in my collection, but also one of the best. Before buying it you have to win an internal battle: they sell you a smell of dung, of shit colour, made by a mad mind in the sector. The first time you smell it, you expect the worst… but nothing happens. You find something warm, sweet and captivating; it seems like chocolate, musk, carnal flowers, earth, fungi, something dense like balsam of Peru and amber. I tested it on a hard day at work and it performed fearfully: it makes you feel protected and comforted, but also resolutely carnal and sexual, without being aggressive. Like with Seminalis, it doesn’t smell like semen nor does Stercus smell like an anus, but there are details that evoke something atavistic in our minds. That is this gentleman’s game: building fragrances around declared unpleasant smells, but with such beautiful elements that they become desirable. It’s one of the few that have stopped me on the street asking. Of course, they want to buy it, but then you tell them what it is and they are left speechless. For cold climates, versatile in uses. It gradually took hold of me and I decided to buy it because I liked it, think what you think. I didn’t expect compliments, but they come. It will always be in my collection.

Didn’t really take to it. Smells nice at first, but then it becomes monotonous and boring. It’s very dry, woody, and has that incense note that some people like, but to me it feels a bit dirty. The longevity is endless—hours and hours—but the projection is non-existent; I wore it around people and nobody noticed anything, which was a bit disappointing.

It is the natural evolution of Black Afgano. While Black stayed within woods and eucalyptus, Stercus Gualtieri takes a step further in its experimentalism and returns us to the earth: a earth mouldy with fungi and bacteria, full of voices and dampness, from where we all come and to where we all return.