Matiere Premiere: Back to the Future

𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘤𝘢𝘳 𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳. 𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘐’𝘮 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘴, 𝘪𝘧 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘦.⁣

For months, the samples sat untouched on my dresser. My mistake.⁣

There were five of them, 1.5 ml vials from Matiere Premiere, French for “raw material”: Parisian Musc EDP, Neroli Oranger EDP, Vanilla Powder Extrait, Crystal Saffron Extrait and Santal Austral Extrait. They were a gift from Hussain Shaheen, founder of Maison of Niche, whose Toronto store is among the best places in the city to find, try and buy niche fragrance. (In the interest of transparency, naming the store was my idea. I told Hussain I’d like to mention it if I ever wrote about the samples.)⁣
⁣
Neglect, not dislike, kept them there. I hadn’t even smelled them. I simply couldn’t warm to the packaging: stark little boxes with all the emotional panache of the nutrition label on a milk carton. I like my fragrance presented with tradition and a little opulence. The internet did nothing to change my mind. Several reviewers dismissed the house as simplistic and overpriced, and the prices alone were enough to make a man sit down. So four samples stayed on the dresser, and the fifth, a black and grey vial of Vanilla Powder Extrait, went into my car’s coin tray on the theory that it might make a passable air freshener.⁣
⁣
Weeks later I rushed to my local library to write and realized, too late, that I had gone out unscented. For me, that is like going out barefoot. I wear fragrance every day unless I’m flying or sharing a car with someone sensitive to aroma chemicals. Then I remembered the coin tray. I sprayed my neck and the insides of my elbows, expecting nothing.⁣
⁣
Good God! The scent was almost absurdly simple, and yet I loved it at once. I sprayed again. For hours it kept finding me in waves, and by the time I left the library, I knew I owed the other four an apology and a proper hearing.⁣

𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬⁣

We are used to note pyramids that read like grocery lists. In niche perfumery especially, complexity has long been sold as proof of luxury, and many collectors believe it is what separates niche from lesser perfumery.⁣
⁣
Blending is nothing new. Nearly 2,000 years ago, Plutarch recorded that kyphi, the incense Egyptian priests burned at dusk, was compounded from 16 ingredients. Versions of the recipe are still carved into temple walls at Edfu and Philae. Simpler still, and older, is a single resin smouldering on coals. What is genuinely modern is the crowded pyramid as a sales pitch, and the toolkit behind it: synthetics such as Ambroxan and ISO E Super, and accords, medleys of materials that conjure something that isn’t there, like an oud that contains no oud.⁣
⁣
Matiere Premiere, founded in 2019 by the perfumer Aurélien Guichard, goes the other way. Each fragrance is built around a single natural material used at high dosage, with little else to crowd it. To newcomers, that can look avant-garde. To anyone who knows the history, it looks like a homecoming. Online, the house has fragrance lovers split between delight and disgust, and much of the praise I saw centred on its red-hot Falcon Leather, which I have smelled only from an atomizer and cannot, for the life of me, remember.⁣
⁣
A caveat: I know full-bottle prices here lean toward the outrageous, and my experience of the house begins and ends with these samples. These are first impressions, nothing more. But I genuinely liked most of what I smelled. These are simple compositions that a newcomer can understand and a seasoned collector can respect. They are made for a particular kind of person, and I understand the appeal.⁣

𝐂𝐫𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐒𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐄𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭⁣

My only other saffron-forward fragrance is Nishane Safran Colognise, which I adore, so I came to this one with high hopes. They were met. Crystal Saffron is a gorgeous metallic saffron that smells of advanced technology, of circuitry and microchips. It opens cold, like prying a coin out of the snow and biting it. The saffron supplies a beautiful warmth against the metal without ever turning hot or sweaty. Nor is it sweet in the slightest, which puts it in very different territory from Baccarat Rouge 540, famous or infamous for its saffron, depending on whom you ask.⁣
⁣
The pairing surprised me. Saffron is such a traditional spice, one I associate with the Middle East, and I never expected to find it keeping company with metal. I can picture it on a well-groomed man in a sleek black tuxedo. Yet as I type this, close to midnight, in pyjamas and a T-shirt, it still works.⁣
⁣
Several people say that if you like Marc-Antoine Barrois Ganymede, you’ll like Crystal Saffron. I don’t know Ganymede well enough to judge, so I pass the tip along for what it’s worth.⁣
⁣
On my skin, performance is beast mode. Six hours in, it still smelled freshly sprayed. I stopped keeping watch at that point, long before it showed any intention of leaving.⁣
⁣
I might need a bottle.⁣

⁣𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐏𝐨𝐰𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭⁣

This is the one that changed my mind about the house. Vanilla Powder smells frankly synthetic, and I can’t get enough of it. Imagine a vanilla birthday cake with vanilla frosting and a dusting of sugar on top. That sugar is the “powder” here, not talc. The sweetness is addictive but disciplined, never cloying, never upstaging the vanilla.⁣
⁣
In extrait it is round and linear, and it sits right at the edge of gourmand. I wonder how the EDP compares. It isn’t too playful for the office, but I suspect a young woman would wear it far better than a middle-aged man with a white beard, a mortgage and a teenage son (me, if you hadn’t guessed). I love a good vanilla, but mine needs gravitas, an edge or some spice. I’m generally open to feminine-leaning fragrances. This one is simply too youthful and too feminine for me.⁣
⁣
That doesn’t make it lesser. It is beautiful, it could work in any season, and it is one of the most thoughtfully blended surprises I’ve encountered in months. I don’t have to picture myself wearing a fragrance to admire it.⁣
⁣
I can’t see myself buying a full bottle, but I keep inventing excuses to wear the sample.⁣

⁣𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐜 𝐄𝐃𝐏⁣

Musk is not for everyone, sometimes literally: some people are partially or fully anosmic to certain musk molecules. I’m not one of them, and I love musk. I recently bought Viktor & Rolf Spicebomb Metallic Musk and Attar Al Has Skin Musk, which are as musky as they come, and I reach for both at every opportunity.⁣
⁣
Parisian Musc is nothing like them. I get very little musk from it at all. What I get is a creamy wood that reads to me like a very decent sandalwood, although the listed wood is Virginia cedar. Like the two above, it is addictive, simple and linear. It is also the only sample that left me wanting something more, though I can’t say what.⁣
⁣
Many people call it a fig bomb, and both Parfumo and the house list fig leaf. I love figs, but I get no fruit to speak of, which is a pity. To my nose it is a creamy woody fragrance that at times recalls Armani Privé Santal Dan Sha, minus the cardamom and frankincense. Fig lovers should try it anyway. I gather it has a cult following among them.⁣
⁣
Simple is not the same as slight. Parisian Musc has a meditative serenity, like a forest waking at sunrise, and a mature man or woman could wear it without effort. I’d gladly accept a full bottle as a gift, but I probably wouldn’t buy one, not with the house’s sandalwood on offer.⁣

𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐄𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭⁣

Santal Austral is the most complex of the five, thanks largely to a fizzy cardamom that roars out of the gate and lingers for hours. The listed notes include black cardamom, tonka, iris absolute and almond milk, and I can find all of them, especially the iris, which sparkles with an energy that made me sit up. The sandalwood is unmistakable, and it is of high quality.⁣
⁣
My frustration is the question it raises: what could this house do if it allowed itself more complexity? Santal Austral is far more interesting to me than Parisian Musc. Across all five, the extraits impressed me more than the EDPs, though with a handful of samples I can’t say whether concentration had anything to do with it. The other letdown is projection. I stopped noticing it in the air around me sooner than the others, though it stayed on my skin. My nose may simply have gone blind to it; I’ll need to wear it much more to know.⁣
⁣
My instinct is to wear it to Middle Eastern or South Asian gatherings, where it would suit my thobe or shalwar kurta energy. Don’t mistake it for a traditional scent, though. It is modern and versatile, leans masculine to my nose, and would suit a man of any age. It is my favourite of the five.⁣
⁣
At the moment I’m considering selling a kidney for a full bottle.⁣

𝐍𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐢 𝐎𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐃𝐏⁣

Neroli Oranger was the only one of the five that disappointed me. The orange blossom field is crowded, and this offered me little of interest. I own Serge Lutens Fleurs d’Oranger, which to my mind is the superior take. Its orange blossom carries a dirtiness that feels far more real and far more interesting, even though Neroli Oranger’s materials strike me as finer. Sometimes the materials and blending are world class and the idea behind them falls short. Not flat. Just short.⁣
⁣
Is it a bad fragrance? No. It surely has an audience, and what leaves me cold may delight someone else. But the simplicity that flatters the others does Neroli Oranger no favours. A little dirt, a rough edge, would have gone a long way. The problem is sharpest beside YSL MYSLF, a designer woody floral built around an orange blossom heart. MYSLF is everywhere, and with EDP, Le Parfum and L’Absolu versions, there is one for almost everyone. They are very likeable fragrances, and they cost a fraction of what Neroli Oranger does. To my nose, Neroli Oranger is better by no measure except the quality of its materials, and that alone cannot justify the price.⁣
⁣
I wouldn’t buy a bottle, and I wouldn’t tell you to either.⁣

𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬⁣

These five fragrances prize material quality, excellent blending and an economy of notes. Four of them I’d call beautiful, and even the fifth is well made. The problem is not the perfume. It is the price. Santal Austral Extrait, my favourite, sells for $450 CAD plus tax for 50 ml at Holt Renfrew. The lowest price I found was €250 for 50 ml at the online retailer Nose, about $403 CAD at the time of writing. At that altitude the field is crowded with competitors that are just as beautiful or more so, some of them masterpieces of construction.⁣
⁣
Discounters help only so much. When I checked FragranceBuy, the five I sampled were all either sold out or not listed. Deals do exist for the house’s best-known scent: Perfume Online lists a 50 ml Falcon Leather EDP at $163.95 CAD. But I haven’t sampled it, and I found nothing comparable for the ones I did. This from someone who owns bottles that retail at $500–$800 CAD. In this market, great is not enough.⁣
⁣
And there is an irony. Minimalism is what drew me to Matiere Premiere, and the minimalism is genuinely persuasive; it is what sets the house apart. Yet the two I want most are the two that stray furthest from it. Santal Austral and, close behind, Crystal Saffron are the most unusual and faceted of the five, and the closest to what I look forward to wearing. Neroli Oranger, where simplicity works against it, is the one that left me cold. What is old may be new again, but at these prices, simplicity alone won’t carry a bottle.⁣
⁣
Right now I’m telling myself I need full bottles from this house. I wouldn’t be surprised if, by morning, I’ve talked myself out of it.⁣
⁣
𝘈𝘭𝘪 𝘉𝘰𝘬𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘪 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘍𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘌𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘰𝘳-𝘪𝘯-𝘊𝘩𝘪𝘦𝘧 𝘰𝘧 𝘈𝘭𝘪 𝘗𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘶𝘮𝘦𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘢.⁣
⁣