Or Noir by Pascal Morabito

Elegance that doesn’t ask for permission. It lit up my dark room and invited me to write more about it. It took me years to understand and fall in love with this ‘green’ family. Morabito has a huge lineage: Amazone, Cristalle, Votre, Private Collection, Ivoire, Givenchy III, Campagne… there are many more, some citrusy, others oriental, woody, dirty or clean greens. Understanding them today is difficult; we live in a gourmand era: warm, spicy, sweet. We still try to seduce, comfort, and intoxicate. When we attempt something strong or olfactorily controversial, it’s often avoided or used sparingly. The green family had its peak between the late 60s and early 80s. They didn’t aim to smell ‘pretty,’ but to create an ‘atmosphere.’ Not just the rose or jasmine, but what surrounds them: stems with sap, a damp garden, bitter shade. Perfumes with presence, not for coquetry, made for adult, autonomous, refined women who bubbled up in abundance. The ‘real’ nature, not idealized. Something that today can be uncomfortable. It’s not traditional femininity: it’s intellectual, dominant, almost hostile (‘Bandit’, ‘Vivara’). No motherhood, no romance, no complacency. There is a statement of power, an introspective search amidst changing roles. Conceptual beauty, not immediate sensuality. They don’t want to be touched or approved of, they promise nothing… and yet they remain. You don’t have to be likable or desirable all the time. This is what they remind us of. I know the beginning was long, but I needed this intro to open up the beauty of the family and understand its personality. Morabito is a resinous-smoky green. Cassis, bergamot, and aldehydes with green moss give a dry, slightly bitter vegetal freshness, evolving into a floral-creamy heart. It’s a clean, bright green, not heavy; among greens, it’s wearable despite its ‘semi-bitter’ facet. Why do I love Morabito? Because I feel broken leaves between my fingers, the dampness of oak moss, the realistic verdancy of the narcissus, the metallic edge of the citrus. It’s real: sometimes amplified, sometimes portrayed. It’s not all sweet flowers and vanilla; nature has other nuances that need to be heard and seen. It’s a walk through a lush forest, the green scent mixing with the air. Simply wonderful. (Review based on the vintage eau de toilette)