Patchouli Magnetik by Maison Crivelli

I’ve been forcing myself to like this perfume for several months… but nothing. I don’t like it. I love Quentin and most of the declared notes I adore: peach, I’m obsessed with it; patchouli, I like it; resins, vanilla, sandalwood… I like them, I love them, they drive me crazy…. but for something beyond logic and comprehension, this combination results in something tremendously unpleasant for me. I’m sorry, Quentin, but this time, you failed me. It smells like synthetic fruity gum and something rancid to me. Joe, and it makes me angry, because Maison Crivelli has atomic bombs, but their creations don’t result in anything pleasant for me. None of them. Longevity and projection are unsurpassed. Every time I apply it to give it another chance to see if something has changed, I realize it still doesn’t like me, and I have to rub my hands with bleach to get rid of this smell. It’s eternal. Horribly eternal.

Do you remember the phrase ‘if you don’t want soup, then take three full cups’? That’s what comes to my mind with a smile. The sparkling fruity opening and the oud alongside the peach ‘slip’ you a charming patchouli, like a prank for those who say ‘I don’t like patchouli.’ The fruity opening and the addictive, balsamic dry-down, right up to that soft peach caress against the skin, mean that if you test the perfume without telling people its name, they’ll probably end up liking the patchouli. Not because it’s masked—it’s still very present—but because it’s presented in a friendly embrace. Maybe it’s a reconciliation for non-patchouli lovers. And if you like patchouli, you’ll love it. On skin, after three and a half hours, it softens and reveals the most comforting aspect. It’s a delight. I’d wear it for intense social nights, and in the morning wake up to a delicate peach fragrance, as if nothing had happened. The line between masculine and feminine in Maison Crivelli is winding, but I feel incredibly comfortable with Patchouli Magnetik. Other women have told me ‘you smell good’ when they didn’t expect it from this ‘prunk.’

At first, the sweetness of the patchouli bothered me, but after an hour and a half of drying, pfff, it’s a delight. Even people who don’t like patchouli can enjoy it thanks to the blend with white flowers, sandalwood, and peach, creating a super creamy peach, half chocolate, half green. In the end, it’s a special, unique scent that projects perfectly for 24 hours. It’s so pleasant that I forgot my rule of only buying 100ml bottles and went straight for the only 50ml format.

At first, that patchouli sweetness felt cloying to me, but once it dries after half an hour or an hour, pfff, it’s a delight for me. I’d even say some people who don’t like patchouli could enjoy it. Obviously, if it’s noticeable, but the blend with that white flower, sandalwood, and peach creates a super creamy peach note with that sweet, half-chocolatey, half-green patchouli. For me, it’s very pleasant when it dries, especially after a few hours. It leaves a scent that’s unlike most perfumes, which are almost always the same; this is a special scent for me that projects and lasts 24 hours perfectly in my experience, and I love that. I can’t stop feeling this creamy, peach-infused patchouli that isn’t as invasive as other louder perfumes. I usually buy 100ml bottles, but this time, forget the decant; I’m going for the only format available, the 50ml bottle.

Smells like the gymbro brother of a fini watermelon bubblegum who just hopped on steroids and refuses to acknowledge any other use for water other than to quench thirst. Stayed on my jumper for weeks and reeked as if it had been just sprayed.

Perfumon in all caps. Smells like thick, creamy, lactonic, and resinous patchouli butter, with a great evolution throughout its development. At first, the peach note becomes more prominent; later, the ‘butter’ fades without losing its creaminess, giving way to gardenia while never losing the chocolatey patchouli. Projection: you leave a trail down the entire street. Longevity is 24 hours, noticeable not just close to the skin but even after showering. If you overapply, it can be overwhelming. It’s a bit tricky; if you’re a patchouli lover, you’ll wish for more purity in that note, but it remains a mandatory tasting perfume.

First impression: some Zara Home Mikados. Very potent, dark, and sinister. The Mikados of Satan’s foyer. The scent that lingers against the skin is a dazzling, overwhelming woody note. The sillage, however, is a cloud of custard smog and egg custard. It seems like the abstraction and purification of a club perfume. But it maintains that curious ambivalence between a madam and Martha Stewart.

One of the perfumes that has caused me the most rejection; it smells like rancid chocolate with peach and playdough.

Patchouli Magnetik seemed like a good patchouli perfume to me, but no more than that. From the very first moment, it smells like chocolate-type patchouli with a resinous look and a fruity touch, of good quality as is usual for the brand, but upon drying, I sense a slightly metallic and earthy accord (I don’t know if it’s the peach or the gardenia) that I don’t like and I think hinders the development. In summary, I think there are better patchouli perfumes, although this one has good performance as something notable. If it vaguely reminds me of Black Orchid, but I see Tom Ford better. Rating: 5.5/10