The post I had planned to write this evening will have to wait, as I am feeling quite unwell. This follows a trial of Amouage Tribute Attar, which unfortunately looks set to last all weekend, short of popping out for a chemical peel. I know this stuff is concentrated, but still. If medieval torture had a scent, this would be it. My nose feels flagellated by the stinging leather note; my stomach sickened by the patchouli and vetiver combo - or very possibly the combination of everything else in the composition that isn't rose and jasmine. It is Caron Yatagan and its swishing bloodied scimitar on steroids.
The notes given on Luckyscent are as follows:
Rose Taifi, Jasmine, Saffron, Frankincense, Cedarwood, Tobacco, Leather, Patchouli, Vetiver.
And there's me thinking I love all perfumes containing saffron. My beloved spice must be lying trussed up in a corner of the dungeon, being repeatedly poked with a pointy implement. Oh, and they seem to have missed off "pure sadism" on the list.
I must say that it is a tribute to the scent's tenacity that it shrugged off all attempts on my part to layer it (read "mask") with the relative benignly soapy Reflection. Tribute has to be - by some margin - the most gross scent to assault my nostrils since I was forcibly perfumed with Mona di Orio's Nuit Noire in Paris in 2008.
Having done a quick scan of the reviews of Tribute, I realise that I am a lone voice in the blogosphere to find the scent as disagreeable as I do. If this aversion makes me a Philistine, I feel frankly too ill to mind. I also tried the Library Collection today, but I have to go and lie down now. And tomorrow I will wear something clean and not remotely belligerent. I am thinking Clinique Simply or Stella Nude.