Le Labo has been on the periphery of my olfactory radar for many years. I first experienced the sumptuous scent of their products at one of the fancier hotels I was once lucky enough to stay at, where it was their signature Santal 33 that wafted its lovely fragrance through some bath gel. As pretty as it was, I was also keenly aware that Santal 33 was to the 2010’s what CK One was to the 1990’s – and in both instances I wanted nothing to do with something so ubiquitous and pervasive. (Witness Santal’s continued influence on the fragrance market with its reference in the now-canonical ‘Red, White & Royal Blue‘ gay rom-com.)
With that in mind, I still managed to stumble into the world of Le Labo online, and got stuck one afternoon reading about the various fragrances they offered in addition to Santal, and one of them – Thé Noir 29 – spoke to me in a way that most of the colognes that have become staples in my fragrance wardrobe first spoke to me. The literature checked off about five of my favorite note boxes, and added some I didn’t even realize I adored:
THÉ NOIR 29 combines depth and freshness, softness and strength through permanent oscillation between the light of bergamot, fig, and bay leaves and the depth of cedarwood, vetiver, and musk. A special extraction of black tea leaves wraps up the composition by bringing to the formula a dry, leafy, hay, tobacco feeling in the dry down to transform this creation into a sensuous and addictive essence.
This wasn’t my first brush with a tea fragrance, as ‘Bamboo Harmony’ by Kilian is a treasured spring scent that came loaded with happy memories. Still, I wasn’t prepared for how much I would love this, and for me, on my skin, it really is the tea that shines. The opening accents of bergamot and fig appeal to my life-long love of citrus, and a relatively-new-found love of fruity elements, while the cedarwood, bay leaves, and tea keep it from going too sweet; it’s an exquisite balancing act that only the best fragrances achieve.
I also detect a smoky rose note that offers enchanting echoes of two classics: Tom Ford’s ‘Oud Fleur’ and Frederic Malle’s ‘Portrait of a Lady‘. More deliciously, there is some sandalwood buried in the architecture of ‘Thé Noir 29’, a very happy hint of ‘Santal Blush‘ and ‘Ébène Fumé‘, two other Ford favorites. With all these glorious intersecting lines and memories, ‘Thé Noir 29’ looks to occupy a prominent place on my cologne shelf.
