Many perfumistas, myself included, have marveled at Luca Turin's boorish behavior toward the late, lamented perfumer Mona di Orio. But before her heart-rending death from surgical complications in 2012, di Orio exacted the best form of revenge: success. With the triumphant release of the critically lauded Les Nombres d'Or series, she (and every critic who praised her work) forced Turin to eat his words. Now he can't take them back even if he wants to.
The only thing is... when I wear Oiro and Chamarré, I understand where he was coming from. True, they're early works. But both of these fragrances smell, well, hasty-- as if di Orio felt rushed to launch them in the wake of her own marvelous Nuit Noire.
Now, I don't mind a good fecal jasmine, but Oiro actually smells like diapers-- a sickly, infantile odor designed to make the perceiver so uncomfortable they can't justify NOT changing the baby. Chamarré smells exactly halfway between this and Nuit Noire, quite as though di Orio had wondered what might happen if she mixed the two perfumes together in a 50/50 ratio. The answer: nothing much good.
I'm truly sorry, Mona, god rest your sweet soul. But you went on to create bigger and better perfumes than Oiro and Chamarré, and therein lies the blessing of your legacy.
Scent Elements: Aldehydes, lavender, rose, violet, lily, opopanax, amber (Chamarré); green mandarin, sweet pea, jasmine absolute, frankincense, heliotrope, vetiver, ylang-ylang, immortelle absolute, cedarwood, musk, amber, spices (Oiro)