Stercus by Orto Parisi

Although the name and marketing are brutal, on the skin it smells incredibly clean. It starts with a soft but present oud and an earthy patchouli that adds depth without being dark. Then come chocolatey nuances, more intense and dry than in Boccanera, as if that sweet part was made to go with the wood. It’s a rare balance between cleanliness, wood, and a dark sweetness. It lasts a long time; the trail is noticeable but not intrusive. Stercus defies expectations and smells more polished than its name suggests.

Here we have the Oud from the series. Smelling the bottle, I thought of Boccanera due to that Gualtieri DNA, but then, in the opening and especially the dry down, it distances itself infinitely. I think it’s one of the best dry downs I’ve ever smelled: exquisite. Elegant, dark woods, and totally wearable in a semi-formal way (leather jacket and jeans). As usual, the 50ml bottle lasts like a bucket. Be careful with overapplication; it’s the typical perfume that goes from charm to horror with one extra spray. Literally: one spray on the jugular guarantees all-night performance, and you wake up smelling it. If you’re wearing it during the day, two sprays and that’s the limit. For Oud fans, this should be first if you’re thinking of buying an Orto Parisi. Who said Black Afgano was the beast? I own both, and Black Afgano is a caramel compared to Stercus.

The opening smells animalic, but the dry down is similar to Boccanera, just more woody, drier, more sober and elegant, without that spicy note that makes Boccanera feel more informal. It has a grotesque name, but the fragrance is very refined. Update: this review is from a decant. On the skin, it evolves faster. The opening oud is more ‘standard’ than you might imagine in an exclusive fragrance; there are designer ouds that smell the same. You can notice the famous ‘shavings’ with memories of Gucci Pour Homme, Bentley Absolute, or Montale Dark Aoud. The perfume oscillates between oud, almond liqueur, vanilla, wood, chocolate, and tobacco. From the atomizer, it smells like freshly polished leather shoes. I reiterate that I’m not exaggerating when I say the dry down has OUTSTANDING quality, something I’ve rarely felt (maybe only in the air of Tauer’s desert). Regarding performance, in my experience it leaves a lot to be desired. It’s quite intimate and goes unnoticed in open places, crowded areas, or amidst other potent scents.

I bought several Orto Parisi decants, including Stercus, which has become one of my favorites over time. Maybe the most prominent note for me is a Russian leather, but nicely wrapped in Gualtieri’s signature amber. I don’t perceive it as a “difficult” fragrance, neither for me nor for those who smell it. Maybe the most “stercus” moment is the opening, where there’s something, very little, of a goat or sheep pen, which to me is a pleasant animal scent, something smoky and dry grass-like. Then there’s that leathery and amberous amalgam that wears well for many hours. I’ve used it in both cold and heat, and it works very well. I’ve also mixed a few sprays on my wrist with Nasomatto’s Pardon, which doesn’t last long like Brutus from Orto Parisi, and it works very well by reinforcing the short-lived with the robustness of Stercus. I like Gualtieri; not many people smell like this. He has several perfumes with so much potency that owning the full bottle might not be necessary; 5ml can go a long way!

From my Orto Parisi collection, this is definitely the one I like the least, though that doesn’t mean it’s bad. You can tell Gualtieri’s hand in it; it’s like a Frankenstein between Boccanera and Black Afgano. The longevity is excellent, as with all from the house (except Viride). The projection is moderate, max one meter, nothing invasive. It’s an excellent choice for cold weather. It doesn’t smell like manure as Andrea mentioned below, or maybe it smelled like cow manure in Kobe.

Perhaps the strangest fragrance in my collection, and one of the best. Before buying it, you have to win an internal battle. It’s called manure, it has the color of shit, and it comes from a crazy mind in the perfume world. The first time you smell it, you expect the worst, but nothing happens. Instead, you find a warm, sweet, and captivating scent with notes of chocolate, musk, carnal flowers, earth, fungi, and something dense like balsam of Peru. I wore it on a tough workday, and it performed amazingly: it made me feel comforted, as if wrapped in a halo of protection, yet carnal and sexual without being aggressive. Like Seminalis, it doesn’t literally smell like semen or an anus, but it evokes something atavistic in our minds. Its art is taking declared unpleasant smells and making them beautiful and desirable. It’s one of the few that stopped me on the street to ask, and even though they’re left speechless when they find out it’s manure, they do it anyway. Ideal for cold climates. I liked it and decided to buy it regardless of what others think. I didn’t expect compliments, but I got them.

Oh my god, what horror… it smelled like manure to me from the very first moment, like a stable. I didn’t think that was the intention, but Alessandro himself said he wanted to reflect the smell of feces. He achieved it, and it’s also a fragrance that imposes itself; I’ve never felt that with a perfume. But well, surely someone might like it. I feel it’s 100% masculine.

Didn’t really like it. At first, it smells nice, but then it becomes monotonous and boring. It’s very dry, woody, and has that incense note that some people love, but to me, it feels a bit dirty. The longevity is endless—hours and hours—but the projection is zero; I wore it around people and nobody noticed anything, which was a bit disappointing.

It’s the natural evolution of Black Afgano. While Black was all about woods and eucalyptus, Stercus Gualtieri takes a step further into experimentalism and brings us back to the earth: a earthy scent with mold, fungi, and bacteria, full of voices and dampness, from where we all come and to where we all return.