There are certain names in perfumery that inspire a particular kind of confidence, the sort that might lead one to commit the cardinal sin of the fragrance enthusiast: purchasing a bottle entirely unsniffed. Cécile Zarokian is one such name. Her work possesses a signature richness and complexity that I find endlessly compelling. So, when I learned she was the nose behind the new release from Amouage, a house that has never shied away from the bold and the beautiful, I confess I threw caution to the wind. My bottle of Outlands arrived without my having read a single marketing brief or list of notes. It felt like a proper adventure.
The first spray is not so much a greeting as it is a jolt. A rather startling, almost pugilistic burst of citrus and spice erupts from the atomiser. My very first thought, coloured by the sharp, zesty lemon and the tingle of Sichuan pepper, was, "Goodness, have Amouage made a summer freshie?" It felt bracing and almost alarmingly bright. But Amouage rarely deals in the straightforward, and just as I was beginning to classify it, the scent began to pivot in the most peculiar fashion.
About twenty minutes in, the initial zest is consumed by an emerging creamy, nutty, and frankly, rubbery accord. It is a fascinatingly strange turn of events, as if the zesty lemon had wandered into a vulcanising plant by way of a patisserie. This is the heart of Outlands, and it is a challenging, bizarre, yet utterly captivating merger of notes that will surely polarise opinion. As the hours passed, I began to notice a familiar echo in its depths, a certain spicy, ambery rose structure that reminded me of the magnificent Epic Woman. They are not twins by any means, but perhaps cousins who share a similar bone structure. The final act of Outlands is where the true beauty lies; it settles into a truly heavenly aura of amber and saffron, a touch sweeter and creamier than its older relative.
As for its performance, it is certainly present. Outlands has a respectable tenacity, making its presence known for a good portion of the day before softening to a more intimate skin scent. It is not a fragrance that shouts across a room, but it does not need to. Its complexity is its calling card. This is a scent that takes you on a journey through three distinct phases. It is for the olfactory adventurer, not the faint of heart. I am still deciding if it is a love, but it is, without a shadow of a doubt, a profound and fascinating 'like'.
All the best,
Victoria