Kurai

It is not so hard to guess that this was inspired by the Sahara with its sand dunes and hot desert wind. Not just the name, but also the scent profile are pretty obvious clues. Prin isn't the first one to come with such a concept, after all. Thanks to Andy Tauer most of us already have an idea of what this smells like.

Sahar opens with a really nice amber. A bit leathery but not wildly animalic. As you would expect from something with a Sahara desert theme, it has a dry-spicy feel to it. Frankincense, coriander and a dried fruit note, among others, are clearly perceivable. Prin has his own way of putting together all these notes, though. There is a specific woody-earthy dryness in the drydown that can be found in several of his perfumes.

So the concept may not be the most innovative. It is the execution that stands out here. This dry-spicy Sahara feel is there quite obviously, while the perfume wears light and easy - won't feel out of place in any casual setting.

A chilly austere expression with a modest warmth in the core. The scent opens with a sparkling juicy citrus and settles relatively fast in a mossy base with fragments of leather and amber. There's some basil going on as well, which leaves a bit of a masculine impression. The application of moss is particularly impressive. It is not so much complex but it is nevertheless deeply comforting and never harsh or dank. If you're in for a retro-style chypre, this is your thing. One of the 'truest' in its genre.

The carnation takes a moment to emerge but as soon it does the cloud of this powdery-spicy floral gets so dense and palpable, it grabs you by the throat. Cloves are added without any restraint - as well as musks - but that is about as far as the composition goes. A carnation soliflor, I suppose? It appears a retro vibe à la "Œillet Louis XV (2012) | Oriza L. Legrand" was the aim here, but it turned out a caricature of extreme proportions. In fairness, the initial chokehold sensation is gone after a while and the musks do a decent job. Still, it missed the mark overall if you ask me.

This is where one's note picking skills will be put to the test. Bogue 10's complexity is through the roof and after two days of wearing it feels like I have only managed to grasp a few of the facets that this work has to offer.

While the top notes are leafy and zesty, the evolution goes through spicy, soapy, musky and resinous phases. With each sniff, another element and another contrast seems to occur. Creamy fig, fresh lily-of-the-valley, minty geranium, warm resin, sour civet. They have all passed by at some point, while the clarity of these notes seems vary as well. Blending in and out of focus. The core of the fragrance is, I would say, a floral blend with tagetes, immortelle and a good amount of civet underneath. Slightly retro-masculine.

In the end, there is a certain harmonious feel to it despite the complexity. Maybe that is the most impressive part of it all. Personally I consider this more of a study piece than a wearable fragrance, though, and that means I will probably get tired of it after a few wears. In fact, after these two wears I think I have had enough already.

Whenever I feel like this perfume testing hobby is getting into a rut, it helps to get my nose on something from Prin's Strangers Parfumerie label. Today's wear, A Sorta Fairytale in Hyde Park is the playful shake-up I needed to get back into the game.

Upon the first spray the room is filled with florals. White and yellow in color. From up close I get some narcissus, which is stripped of its rougher sides. The peachy sweetness is a bit much at first, but settles just as fast as the big floral opening does. A vanilla-powdery base with a pollen-rich edge is all that's left pretty soon.

This is a clear reference to big florientals of the nineties but it comes with a lighthearted mood and a friendly smile. Moderately suitable as a wearable perfume and above all a fun intermezzo.