I am chuckling as I write this, because I was one of the biggest Tauer haters before I wrote this review. I actually was considering putting “All of the Tauers I have tried” under the Scrubber section in an old online article (for non-fumies: a scrubber is a scent that smells so awful that you need to scrub it off immediately). I only didn’t because I respect Tauer as an indie house, and would feel embarrassed to write something so mean about a small company. I also sensed that my tastes would change, and was willing to give it another try now that my nose has matured.
A month or 2 ago, my review would have been as follows:
Blegh! What is that spice? Cumin? Cardamom? Who puts that in perfume? Why would I want to smell of that? Gross! I’m sorry, I cannot think of anything else to say.
Here are some excerpts of my test notes:
“Way too much spice […] burns my nose [….] Waiting for less spice [….] spoils the entire experience for me [….] sit through this [….]”
Thanks to repeated mentions of Tauer perfumes, a mention of someone wearing it for their wedding, and talking to Undina, I have matured enough to try this again. Last night I wore Le Maroc pour Elle. It wasn’t bad – just not me. Today I decided to try Incense Rose, as I know I would love these notes – especially the incense, patchouli (love it if it’s used to darken a scent), myrrh, and rose to sweeten things. I sprayed my wrists and inner elbows (once each) with the generous sample I got from Tauer.
Opening: Cardamom comes out pretty strongly – not my thing. it gets blended prettily with some sort of herb and a very strong rose. Im a Rosine girl, so this is a new type of rose – Rosine roses are juicy – this one is a drier yet more mature and subtle rose. I can smell an incense that is not dry – the kind I like. It is definitely dark, and blended beautifully. There is a mustiness that is either orris or patchouli, which makes this the “noir” I would have liked to see in Chanel Coco Noir. The wood playes along nicely in the background, and to be honest, this is not a perfume that I am skilled enough to continue naming notes of.
Heart: There is a cumin-like thin note in the far background, which could be a herb or note I am not familiar with. It balances out (very well, might I add) the entire musty and damp earthiness, which is slightly dried by the cedar, and sweetened by the rose (now a background player). The incense reminds me a lot of that nice sweet incense in real life – not the dry and smokey incense one finds in a lot of “incense-based” perfumes. I get more incense in my inner elbow than on my wrist, where the herbs and rose remain. My wrist is also making the orris go a little carrot-like – but not enough for me to be put off.
There is a lemony sourness that is putting me off, it could simply be a herb, or the bergamot. If this were to stay like it is doing on my inner elbow, this would be a love. On my inner elbow, the rose has stood in the perfect place, and is mingling gorgeously with the very dark wood and incense. THAT is what I call a blend! But on my wrists it is staying as a herby carrot with lemons 🙁 I shall try this one again while going somewhere, and see how it wafts (a telling factor for a full bottle).
Drydown: The woods take over with the incense. The darkness is still there, but there is a powderiness that makes this part the most “perfumey” of all stages. There is something in here that reminds me of a Serge Lutens scent, but I just cannot put my finger on which one. This is not because it is gourmandy or odd, but because of a combination of woods and flowers, I think. It is not at all similar to any SL scent, but the feeling I feel is similar. Perhaps I am in love and do not realise it. 😉
For now, I shall enjoy being transported away to an abandoned temple somewhere, where roses from a previous wedding are still scattered on the cobbled stones around the temple. The sun is setting, and there is a mustiness inside the temple, mixed with the ever-burning frankincense and the herbs that spilled from recent ceremonies. The wooden furniture (very little of it) that I see is so old that I can almost smell it. I am in the East, but where, I cannot say. All I do know, is that I will keep inhaling this scent to feel close to something that feels familiar, yet foreign.
Picture stolen from: