Mon Numero 10 by L'Artisan Parfumeur

It’s a rather curious fragrance in the Duchaufour style. Smells much better on the skin than in the bottle. It opens with a very spicy pink pepper and cinnamon note; in the dry down, bergamot and fennel try to refresh it but with little success, leaving behind balmic, resinous, and slightly medicinal touches. Is there no labdanum? I don’t detect any florals. For me, the backbone is leather, woods, and resins: a very soft leather distinct from the designer version, with light smoky incense and spicy notes alternating with cedar, heliotrope, and tonka bean, which add a powdery, aromatic woodiness. Some smell it like an old medieval church, but to me, as it dries, it reminds me of all kinds of pencils, wax, plasticine, and powdery turpentine. It’s like being in a desert painting studio after kids have left class, picking up their things and enjoying the silence after a tough afternoon of crumpled papers and failed drawings in the trash, organizing scattered pencils and waxes. It’s the scent of oils that haven’t dried yet on half-finished canvases, rag pieces soaked in turpentine tossed carelessly. Now I can savor that aroma of projects in mind and half-realized, relaxing and waiting for the blessed muses to gift me inspiration for the next day. And patience… It’s a dense, deep fragrance wrapped in mystery and the past; in my view, it’s not versatile—I can’t conceive of a place or occasion to wear it other than personally and in intimacy as an olfactory experience. Unisex, but I perceive it as more masculine. Its trail is good and not overwhelming; in the base, it’s powdery resins over a sweet leather foundation. Longevity on my skin is about 8 hours. It’s a sober scent, neither romantic nor sensual, inviting reflection or meditation on being with oneself; perhaps that’s why the mention of mysticism fits perfectly for autumn and winter evenings. For me, who loves the smell of glues, paints, gasoline, and turpentine, I wouldn’t mind wearing it on a warm, fluffy scarf at all. Many thanks to Darkbeat for making this experience possible with a gifted sample.

A curious fragrance, very typical of Duchaufour. Smells better on skin than in the bottle. Starts with spicy pink pepper and cinnamon; at the base, bergamot and fennel try to refresh it without much success, leaving behind strange balsamic, resinous, and medicinal touches. Where’s the hop? I don’t detect any flowers. The heart is leather, woods, and resins: a soft leather, different from the designer’s version, mixed with smoky incense and spices, alternating with cedar, heliotrope, and tonka bean that add woodiness and powderiness. Some smell it like a medieval church; to me, dry, it reminds me of pencils, waxes, modeling clay, and powdered turpentine. It’s like being in a painting studio, a deserted classroom after hours, picking things up, enjoying the silence, with crumpled papers, scattered pencils and waxes, smells of uns dried oils and rags with turpentine. It smells like half-finished projects, relaxation, and waiting for inspiration. Patience included. Dense, deep, mysterious, and aged; not versatile, for personal and intimate use only. Unisex but leans masculine. Good trail, not overwhelming; base of powdery resins and sweet leather. Lasts about 8 hours. Sober, without romance or sensuality, invites reflection or meditation, perfect for autumn and winter evenings. For me, who adores glue, paint, and gasoline scents, I wouldn’t mind wearing it on a warm scarf. Thanks to Darkbeat for the sample.