Sicilian Vanilla Attar has a deeply unsettling opening, because, quite frankly, it smells like oud! Given that there is no oud listed, it must be an apparition conjured up by two or three of the more pungent materials present in the topnotes, possibly the veiny, dried-fruit dirtiness of natural tobacco leaf absolute colliding with the pissy undertones of cassis (blackcurrant). The oud phantasm dissipates quickly, leaving a trace of pungent cherry-flavored cough syrup in its place, before finally allowing all the separate nuances of tobacco absolute to fall into place.
At first, the more animalic, “wet” facets of tobacco are present – spoiled fruit, medicine, and spilled brandy. But then, with the help of benzoin and perhaps some myrrh, the tobacco absolute begins to dry up, separating into different layers of aroma that range from raisins to the musty, yellowing pages of books in an ancient library. This I absolutely love because I am forever on the hunt for perfumes that remind me of books and old libraries.

As the papery tone increases, the blend retains its forceful character – in other words, it is very strong (tobacco absolute being a bully of a material). There also appears an element of dry woodsmoke, but I am not sure about this, because my nose sometimes confuses the dryness of paper with the dryness of woodsmoke. Either way, let’s split the difference and call it a note of singed paper.

It takes me a while to realize that what I thought was dry, papery tobacco had actually morphed into the savory, arid creaminess of the Rising Phoenix Perfumery’s signature Mysore sandalwood, plus powdery benzoin for that sweet-and-spicy vanillic dust feel. Strangely, I don’t get much vanilla in this attar, except for an ashy, dark smoothing out of the other materials at the edges. Nevermind, because the sweet creaminess of vanilla is not really welcome here anyway - this is great as it is.

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