Itasca/Figaro/Bluff (Lubin)

By Andrew

The revived house of Lubin caught my attention with its debut scent, Idole, a brilliant essay on smoky wood, spiced rum, and animalic leather by Olivia Giacobetti. After that, only the recomposed and reissued Eau Neuve has done much for me, with the long-awaited Gin Fizz reissue having been especially disappointing. Within the past year Lubin has released three unisex-to-masculine fragrances, Itasca, Figaro, and Bluff, none of which have received much press or critical attention. Ever hopeful that Lubin will come up with something as exciting as Idole, I had to try all three.

Itasca
Itasca is by a wide margin the least interesting of Lubin’s three new releases. Its harsh and hollow combination of vetiver, incense, and a pseudo-wood that smells like unnaturally amplified pencil shavings might have seemed innovative had Comme des Garçons released it twenty years ago. Today you can find this kind of thing executed just as well, and at half the price, in a scent like KenzoAir. Buy Itasca only if you want the nifty Lubin bottle.

Year: 2010
Perfumer: Lucien Ferrero
Notes: Neroli, marigold, mandarin, juniper berry, grapefruit, clove, tonka bean, clary sage, nutmeg, geranium flower, Itasca red pine (Pinus resinosa), Java vetiver, Texan cedar, Partak incense, Ethiopian myrrh, amber, and Canadian fir balsam.

Figaro
Figaro launches on a exquisitely balanced grapefruit and bergamot accord so realistic and juicy that you’ll want to eat it. The fruit morphs from citrus to applese and plums as Figaro’s bracing spice and conifer notes slide into place, but it’s some time before the fig so hideously punned upon in the name makes any impact. Unfortunately, Figaro’s apple note smells as artificial as its citrus does realistic, so for much of its lifespan Figaro feels like immersion in apple-scented shampoo.

Parfum d’Empire’s Wazamba plays apple against pine in an incense-oriental context, where it’s much more effective than Figaro’s attempt at evoking a breezy day on the Mediterranean. The drydown, where the woody fig finally registers against a thin vetiver accord, is relatively quick to arrive and not terribly exciting, especially when measured against older woody fig compositions like Philosykos or Heeley’s Figuier. It’s not a bad scent, but I don’t think it’s all that compelling, either.

Year: 2010
Perfumer: Thomas Fontaine
Notes: Grapefruit, bergamot, pink peppercorns, marine pine, fig, apple, Damson (plum), coriander leaves, clover, essence of vetiver, styrax, sandalwood, tonka bean.

Bluff
Perfume critic Luca Turin has a theory that in every set of fragrances released in pairs or trios, only one is bound to be very good. In this case, the clear winner is Bluff, which comes as a surprise since it’s composed in the grievously over-exposed gourmand oriental style. More to perfumer Thomas Fontaine’s credit then, that Bluff actually winds up smelling more original than either of its stable mates.

Bluff’s secret, I believe, lies in its clever juxtaposition of iris and kola nut. It’s hard to use kola nut without smelling like a soft drink, but in partnership with a smooth, yet rooty iris and the bitter accent of clary sage, Bluff’s kola nut leaves no echoes of Diet Pepsi. Instead it smells exotically sweet, at once alien and familiar.

This kind of fragrance is often very loud (just think of A*Men or Lolita Lempicka au Masculin), but Bluff manages a degree of tasteful understatement most unusual for its genre. The conventional patchouli, vanilla, and ersatz sandalwood drydown is inevitably disappointing after the clever iris/kola nut accord, but if it smells ordinary, it at least does not smell cheap. Of this trio, Bluff is without a doubt the one I’d enjoy spending more time with.

Year: 2010
Perfumer: Thomas Fontaine
Notes: Lime, bergamot, nutmeg, cinnamon, clary sage, iris, kola nut, vetiver, cedar, patchouli, sandalwood, and vanilla.