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Luтый – :
This is a beautiful contrast to commercial perfumery, and an amazing use of these notes! A dark, floral leather, this is highly reminiscent of times past.
Of dark nostalgic smokers dens; dense, dry, tobacco smoke lingers in the air, creating a sultry haze. Lots of dark woods, heavy blackened oak panelling on the walls and ceiling, its intricate detailing speaks of wealth and aristocratic privilege. Leather bound books line the walls. There’s an old timber and hide chair, its dry, cracked, and well worn by years of careful habit. There’s a slight dampness held at bay by the dry leather and tobacco smoke, but you can feel its presence.
The room is lamplit, the pale luminescence only enhances the hazy, haughty mood. There’s vase of freshly cut tuberose in the room. White, bright, it stands in stark, clean, contrast to its surrounds. But it’s deceptive in its origins; the tuberose cuts through the woods, leather and tobacco with a sickeningly sweet veil that’s almost noxious, but somehow welcome.
A true artisanal experience, you can expect nothing standard or generic from this fragrance. Leather/woody/floral lovers should absolutely try this.
Proff08 – :
Such a different use of both tobacco and tuberose! Both notes are usually loud and sweet- she went the opposite way.
On my skin it was dry, dry, and not sweet at all. Like when you wear ear plugs and some frequencies are blocked out. Pleasant, different, but there are so many other Zworykinas that blow my mind.
If this was the only one I had tried of hers, I would have cherished it, but now I’m spoiled…
liza – :
It arrives suddenly..
… as winter morning fog, that covers everything around in thick moist cloud, eats down all the snow, catches you by the sleeve, entangles in your hair, and dissolves into the air as quickly as it appeared.
Now you see me, now you don’t , and vice versa.
Strong and bitter beginning, but you cannot say anything paticular about it, only that it is sure a perfume, and sure enough it is far from simple. It lingers along for a while, three minutes, five maybe. And then the most interesting begins: suddenly (just like that fog) appears a tuberose, even a TUBEROSE! It’s not alone, there comes LEATHER as well. A tuberose I feel here is not a creamy chelestial creature made of light and mist, it is quite serious, it means business. It is a bit toxic and suffocates you but somehow this fact doesn’t bother you at all. You take a full-lungs breath, sit yourself down into a deep cabinet arm-chair. The chair is upholstered with leather and stuffed with horsehair, it is old and very cosy. And you just sit there, breathe this toxic tuberose in-out, in-out, in… and suddenly you understand that everything is as it should be.
I cannot quite undrestand the reason : possibly it is my habbit to see the things a bit less cheerful then most people do, or maybe because of annoyingly changeable winter weather this year (from –15 to +3 Celsius every a week or two, several times already, constant fogs and complete absence of clear sunlight), but to me this Tobacco Tuberose seems inevitable like chronic neurosis, it doesn’t disappear, it’s always somewhere around. With all that said, I never can call it “cloying” or “obtrusive”, on the contrary it is “habitual”, even “kin” and any minute threatens to become “indispensable”. I suppose it is extremely particular about the temperature and humidity and I strongly believe it’s seasons are late autumn and winter.
But this clearly visible tension is not the only important case of the perfume. What is even more important is the 3D reality it creates with laudable stability: a dark room (a cabinet? a smoking room?), a leather chair, a softly lit table and a bouquet of tuberoses upon it. Late foggy night outside, the house is sleeping. The room is warm and stuffy. No pipe smoke is visible but you can smell it clearly in the air along with intoxicating tuberose; there’s a lot of dark wood and smells of leather everywhere – from the chair you sitting in, from a leather sack beside the chair and maybe there’s even a leather coat, just taken off and still slightly damp from the thick fog that is outside. And there’s even a particular time and place : St.Petersburg (Russia), late 1890s- early 1900s, – time of Art Nouveau, decadent, artificial and excess. I even have a strong suspicion that if one reaches through time, collects some air in a cabinet of that time into some test-tube and brings it back here, this air would smell like this Tobacco Tuberose.
A must-try for everyone into floral leathers!