I love the contrast between the devoutness of the bottles with simple names from Le Labo and the content that lifts you in an emotional and olfactory whirlpool. I blindly tested Le Labo Thé Noir 29, not knowing what it is, just sniffing it off my skin. I immediately said fruit. That’s correct, but what fruits? I don’t think I can name them. Fruits, unripe fruits, is that better? It’s clearer… I’m getting warmer already. So I must be getting closer. Okay, let’s walk the other way, of the olfactory memory. Where did I smell this kind of fruits before? It’s not something that usually pops out in perfumes and I don’t have this kind of perfumes, but I do recognise a note, it’s on my tongue. Blank.
Come on, try it again. I close my eyes, take another whiff, and I smile, BANG! Philosykos. The fig of Philosykos. We got that straight. It is full of flavor and a thin thread of white juice flows out of the pulp broken in half. But the perfume is well over this. Le Labo Thé Noir 29 has layers and I barely climbed over the first one. And furthermore…. I say smoke.
A lot of black smoke coming from wood kissed by fire that was lit by aromatic herbs. The smoke rises and blackens the fig from underneath, leaving it just slightly untouched. Vetiver. See, I can do it. I don’t have any doubts here, I know it. But it’s a burned vetiver. And it burns so beautifully under a tongue of fire… Le Labo Thé Noir 29 is a perfume made according to the same principle, like the others in the collection, which means that it doesn’t smell 1-1 with the note that gives its name, but interprets it in an original way, giving you the chance, through the subtly placed allusions, to gradually discover it.
Le Labo Thé Noir 29 is green-fruity-smoky, delicious and clear like the daylight on one side, and dark and disturbing on the other side, smoke-perfume. A black tea full of mystery and calling drank by someone used to strong essences, the kind that gets imprinted in your soul. Darjeeling, darling.