Hoodrat Eye Roll (ROUND 1)
scent of the day: Tibetan Musk, by Ensar Oud
This I believe was my first Ensar. Solid wear today. It sometimes takes time for the brain to learn to smell musks and now, perhaps in part to my wearing various other musk fragrances (from of Wolves and Men and Musk Sultani to Kasturi Cola and Mongolian Mriga), this reads much more animalic than it did in my first foray. On my first wearings of this I sensed a big connection to Lagerfelf Cologne. The Lagerfeld connection is still there but on a nose dive I mean this is good friggin musk—nothing like what we get in Lagerfeld, which is otherwise expertly crafted (in fact, likely better crafted). This has that sense of infinite depth like I get from EO 3 Rugosa and like so many of the Ensars. Tibetan Musk is a perfect signature scent material: beautifully simple and a perfect platform for a bespoke version.
Sniffing the nozzle I immediately get an ambery fougere with a stunning resemblance to Lagerfeld Cologne. On spray it keeps that impression, enough that it seems like the Lagerfeld compared to this is like the difference between finely tailored wool suit and a fast-fashion synthetic copy—only here the strange thing is that, speaking in terms of the analogy, the fast-fashion synthetic copy came before the tailored wool suit (although Ensar Telegrafi would probably respond “Well, the specific musk I have made the focal point of my creation dates back before Lagerfeld and the musk smell itself, which I am honoring in a more respectful way than Lagerfeld, goes back to before humans”).
Both Tibetan Musk and Lagerfeld have similar bright-green herbs: sweet-camphorous lavender (and perhaps, like we get explicitly in Lagerfeld, musky-apple clary sage). Both also have similar tart citrus boosted by frankincense (although Ensar uses an Omani green frankinscence, prized for its hymenal-underripe characteristics compared to smokier varieties, that really brings out a lemon-lime intensity, piney and ethereal, like it does in Spell 125 and early renditions of Epic Man. Anchoring this treble of herbal tartness in both Lagerfeld and Tibetan Musk we get not only rose and berry fruits and cedar but also by the centerpiece of it all: a core of musky oomph—musk given extra throw in the case of Lagerfeld by aldehydes and here perhaps by some unstated ambergris; musk that reads as an earthen chocolate in both but more like cocao-snuff baby powder in Lagerfeld (a product mainly of patchouli plus tobacco plus synthetic musk) and more like rich creamy truffle in Ensar (a product mainly of the real natural musk itself, although perhaps reinforced by unlisted Lagerfeld notes like sandalwood and orris). Lagerfeld is more like baby powder and designery upon scrutiny but from afar—in terms of what everyone else smell on you—they will real as at least 85 percent the same.
Up close is for the fragheads and I don’t know if I can say, on a nose dive, that Prin’s Mongolian Mriga—one of my other prized deer musk scents along with many others, especially Musk Khabib, Fiona, Nisatiruk, Vespers, J-Musk (to say nothing of my Ensar musks)—has this beat in terms of my taste. I prefer MMriga more but this is much classier. Almost wish I didn’t smell this it is so good. it gives off a bit more piney vibes than citrus (like in Spell 125 this is likely due to the green frankinscence)—and that, aside from lacking the powder-puff texture, is one of the main differences from the Lagerfeld. Whether it is that the musk itself is giving off the piney elements from what the deer ate or simply that the incense and herbs are creating that impression, it does not matter to me.
Even though this was a lower tier Ensar, I still consider this a piece of collectible art (well crafted) and yet collectible history (deer musk is so rare and is gettign rarer). I don’t like to fawn over the hyped brands but this Ensar walks the walk. up close there is this feeling, a feeling I do not get in too many perfumes (and none come to mind right now), that the base has infinite depth—like the richness portals on and on. that infinite depth however lasts for three hours max. I still might prefer, all things considered, Mongolian Mriga.
The lavender, which has a good deal in common with Artemis (albeit less intense as it is there), seems realistic and new. So maybe this will get more sour—more like Salvador Dali and less like Naxos—with age. The musk—a chocolate patchouli, a barky vanilla, an earthy toffee—seems aged and rounded: it is like the civet in civet de nuit: buttery mellow as opposed to urinous sharp but still having the hum of salty-skin warmth that seems to unite all varieties of musk. When the lavender ages and this gets to smelling more sour and old-man like it will be extremely prized and it should create a lovely tension against the mellow musk. Wish I would have gotten a chance to show my dad, who was a deer hunter turned deer whisperer later in life, my variety of real deer musks at a time when he might have appreciated it (even though the deer he hunted were not the type that had musk pods).
*Let’s workshop this poem about the formation of a specific erotic necessity--that of the sternest of stern daddies--through accumulated experience with certain youngster populations from the hood.
Hoodrat Eye Roll
His chest had borne the tender weight of too many teens, purring drool to his lullaby,
for their ideas of manhood— stiff slaps and phlegm thwacks, fingers down the gullet—
not to have groomed him into Daddy, unable to nut without bladders dumping for air.
“We need books that affect us like a disaster, that grieve us deeply, like the death of someone we loved more than ourselves, like being banished into forests far from everyone, like a suicide. A book must be the axe for the frozen sea within us.”—Kafka (against the safe-space cancel culture pushed by anti-art bullies, left and right)
