Elevated Classics

I visited Aedes Perfumery in New York last spring and, as usually happens in a good perfume store, there was far more to smell than I had time or nose for. Palissandre d’Or was one of the perfumes I missed, so I was genuinely excited when it appeared in a recent perfume swap with one of my readers who lives nearby.

For anyone unfamiliar with Aedes de Venustas, it began as a New York perfume boutique in 1995, first on Christopher Street in Greenwich Village and now on Orchard Street on the Lower East Side. It became known for carrying harder-to-find artisanal fragrances long before niche perfume became the crowded business it is today. The store later developed its own Aedes de Venustas collection, working with perfumers including Bertrand Duchaufour, Ralf Schwieger, Rodrigo Flores-Roux and Alberto Morillas.

Palissandre d’Or was released in 2015 and created by Morillas. It takes its name and inspiration from palisander, or Indian rosewood, although this is an imagined interpretation rather than a perfume built around the literal material. Morillas constructs the effect through ambrette, pink pepper, coriander, nutmeg, cinnamon, sandalwood, copahu balm, patchouli, Ambrox and three different cedar materials.

The opening is dry, warm and distinctly spicy. Pink pepper and coriander give it some brightness, but the cinnamon is easy to pick out and stays present against the cedar. Nutmeg adds another layer of warmth, so the spice is not merely supporting the wood. It is part of the perfume’s character. Palissandre d’Or is still a woody fragrance at its core, but the cinnamon and dry spices are very much there.

Cedar gives Palissandre d’Or its shape, but it does not smell like a pile of pencil shavings. There is too much polish around it. Sandalwood and copahu balm soften the grain, patchouli deepens it, and ambrette adds a musky warmth that makes the wood feel more like something worn on skin than an object sitting in a room.

The house describes the three cedars individually: Virginian cedar for its clean structure, Chinese cedar for a tea-like quality and Alaskan cedar for a smokier, leathered effect. I cannot honestly separate all three while wearing it, and I am never going to pretend that I can smell a geographical map of cedar on my wrist. What I can smell is a dry, layered wood with subtle smoke, warmth and a very smooth finish.

I am usually cautious with woody perfumes that lean masculine. Many become too stern on my skin, or so dry that I can appreciate the construction without actually wanting to wear them. Palissandre d’Or does lean masculine, but it never felt rough or too cologne-like. The words I kept coming back to were refined and polished.

That did not surprise me once I saw Alberto Morillas’s name.

Morillas is one of my favorite perfumers, and I own many of his fragrances. What interests me about his work is his ability to make a perfume feel polished and airy without stripping it of personality. One of my favorite solar florals, Mizensir Solar Blossom, is his. It is completely different from Palissandre d’Or, but both show the fluidity and control that run through his work. Solar Blossom turns orange blossom into light; Palissandre d’Or makes dry wood feel almost silky.

This does not smell designed for the broadest possible audience. It is dry, restrained and fairly serious. There is no sweet amber base trying to make it instantly lovable, no bright citrus opening and no obvious floral heart. The Ambrox gives it warmth and diffusion, but on my skin it did not overwhelm the composition or turn scratchy. It remained part of the polish and also helped with the longevity.

Palissandre d’Or would suit someone who likes cedar, sandalwood, dry spices, warm skin musks and woody perfumes that stay composed. It may also appeal to a woman who enjoys borrowing from the traditionally masculine side of perfumery but does not want to smell like a standard men’s fragrance. On a man, I imagine it would feel elegant and slightly unconventional rather than overtly rugged.