Ourzazate (Comme des Garçons)
Every day's a gamble, isn't it? You win some, you lose some. This morning I decided to randomly choose a perfume…. and for my wild abandon, I got what I deserved.
As soon as I applied Ouarzazate and stood within its aura, I felt… meh. That a perfume which takes its inspiration from the land of harissa, za'atar and ras al hanout should smell so humdrum, so boring, surprised me. There's nothing here I haven't smelled before.
Ouarzazate's base is a combination of nutmeg, musk, and black pepper that has appeared before in a million other perfumes, with much the same results. It's pleasant, likeable, and thoroughly clichéed. Pair it with the right auxiliary elements, and it probably redeems itself in spades. But perhaps Mark Buxton found himself so disinterested in his creation that he abandoned it right at the starting line. There it still stands, alone and exposed. Such neglect, believe me, is not salutary.
Ourzazate has been on my skin now for two hours, and I feel bored to sobs. It's like watching an ensemble cast reunite for their twelfth blockbuster movie. However comforted I might feel by all those trusty familiar faces on the screen, I can't help but notice recycled dialogue, old gags, and a plot line depressingly similar to that of the last film, and the one before that, and the one before that….
What could have been done differently? Oh, so many things. The nutmeg-musk-peppercorn trifecta could have been introduced to some new and startling playmates-- hyssop, spikenard, honey, fenugreek, just to name a few. But no. Clearly no one had been feeling adventurous the day this perfume was created. Its fruity, almost citric peppercorn tries hard to be perky, and the dry, lemony bite of clary sage lends a pale bit interest, and then… whatever.
There's no courage here, no innovation, no daring. The least -- and the most -- I can say is that Ouarzazate smells nice. But today, nice just isn't enough.
Scent Elements: Clary sage, black pepper, nutmeg, musk, vanilla, labdanum, incense, woods