Notes: peach blossom, bergamot; gardenia, tuberose, peony, orange blossom; patchouli, vanilla, cedarwood, cardamom, guaiacwood
Chinatown is sublimely weird and uncategorizable.
It starts out firmly in the “fruity chypre” genre, like Jubilation 25; fuzzy-dark patchouli mixed with sweet-overripe-dirty Prunol. I also get a dark labdanum aura, and maybe a sweat-like cumin scent. Evil, funky, indulgent, and reasonably sophisticated: yes please.
A few minutes in, I’m noticing that it’s strangely...cool, despite all the dark-and-sexy stuff. Like a dark gray river rock in the shade beside a brook.
There’s a camphorous smell going on here. Really, like Tiger Balm. Very cooling and sharp. And also a spice-and-incense-and-sandalwood thing. A few hours in, camphor, spice, and the dark patchouli are most of what I smell; the amber-and-Prunol just winks in and out occasionally, like a string of Christmas lights on a dark night.
It’s a lot of fun. It doesn’t smell at all to me like the conventional, sweet fruity floral that the notes and online reviews suggest. Chinatown is a grown-up fragrance, pulling in a bunch of different directions in perfect balance (sweaty funkiness, spicy electricity, camphorous-medicinal bite, patchouli gloom). I’m in my happy place.
I actually think this is genderless; yes, it has a sweet note, but it’s so intense and weird that it’s just as unconventional on a woman as a man. This is one of those scents you wear because you like the smell, not for the social impression it creates. If you’re a camphor-loving freak like me, there are very few perfumes that really scratch the itch, and Chinatown is one of them.