I fell in love with Idole by Lubin when it hit the blogs around 2005; when I spotted it recently the bottle (and formula) had changed, but the contents still smelled pretty great, all rum and spice and smoke but oh so smoooth.
So here’s a shout-out to some newer Lubins – the recently released Epidor, and Akkad, which came out in 2012, doesn’t seem to have attracted much attention, and I never got around to smelling until recently.
Akkad was nice enough when I first tried it on a warmish October day; curled up on my couch, watching the snow fall endlessly outside my window while I listen to Christmas carols in front of the fireplace, it’s perfect for the moment.
Notes: Mandarin, Bergamot, Clary Sage; Cardamom, Elemi, Frankincense, Styrax, Amber, Labdanum, Vanilla, Patchouli.
When I first put it on I have no idea where it’s going, but I’m pretty sure I’ve been there before and I don’t want to go back. Clary sage is to perfumery what vermouth is to a martini; add maaaybe half a drop or you’ll be full of regrets. Then that citrus-sage stops pelting me, and whoa we’re off in a different direction — the dried spices aisle in your favorite international grocery, complete with a hint of dust and something a little sharpish and savory in the background.
On the other hand (wrist, actually) is Epidor, Lubin’s newest offering in 2017, an unashamedly romantic floriental that makes my heart sing and yours might, too, depending on how you feel about those languid heavy hitters.
Here’s some bodice-ripping prose from the Lubin website: “The ripe wheat swayed yesterday in the summer breeze. The blond sheaves now lie scattered on the ground and the laborers have filled their jute sacks with the golden grain. The village girls lay down their sickles, and in a shady copse, quench their thirst in the stream. They’ll dance tonight to celebrate harvest’s end. A peddler came by yesterday, and now, their skin is fragrant with orange blossom, mingling with jasmine and violet. Their rough smocks have a musky scent…”
Plums, violets, orange blossom, jasmine, sandalwood, cedar, tonka, vanilla.
The violets are sweet, and they fade; the fruit’s overripe, the orange blossom and jasmine are juuuuust dirty enough, and the drydown is an orchard full of buzzing, golden bees among overripe fruit, and I’m stretched out on a pile of hay, drowsing. It’s absolutely narcotic, all boozy plums and hay. Sign me up.