Eau du Fier
Goutal (2000)

You can take this at face value as a smoky tea scent ... or you can close your eyes and let the aroma carry you to a dimly-lit mechanic's garage, full of petrol fumes and oily rags piled up in the corner. The air is a bit stale and carries the smoke-riddled memories of exhaust fumes and diesel engines. Truly an experience worth seeking out.

From the days when Annick Goutal would boldly go where no-one had gone before, comes this trailbazing fragrance. At first I took the name to mean fire water, but I think it actually means something to be proud of.

But fire is very much to the point. The aroma is of the famous smoky tea, lapsang souchong, magnified by about 1,000. But then delightfully tamed by the bitter orange and other complex notes with the wonderful results that others have remarked on.

Like the reviewer below I have an almost full bottle, and it is likely to stay that way for a fair time, as a few drops go a long way.

Given that the product is thoroughly politically incorrect by modern standards, is there any olfactory experience that comes close, other than ordering a ton of fresh tarmac? Well you could try Duel, another characterful Goutal creation from the days of yore, or perhaps Zagorsk from Comme des Garcons, which is an original and very civilised offering with a slight smokiness. Or then again, try to track down some good old fashioned coal tar soap, before that disappears off the shelves too.

But nothing really comes close to Eau du Fier. It is indeed a masterpiece without equal.

this criminally discontinued masterpiece must be regarded as the antecedent to the 'smoky aromatic' micro genre of which lonestar memories, norne, black tourmaline, bois d'ascese, black gemstone etc etc belong to. this stuff is so alluring in its schizoid fresh citrus/burned-down-house duality and has never failed to satisfy on all levels. complexity, balance, assertiveness and refinement are all here, not to mention nuclear longevity but surprisingly discreet throw. i treasure my bottle and while i don't condone ebay gouging, i strongly recommend that if the above frags appeal to you, get this if given the opportunity.

A terse mix of bitter orange, grapefruit an a hint of mint leaf make up the opening blast, that is followed soon by an explosive outburst of black tea. This is a harsh black, harsher than Murdock's, a deep tannin-laden tea that in some aspects reminds me of the famous Lapsang Souchong opening of Bvlgari Black.

Soon a hard, fragrant leather is added, with less of a gasoline undertone than in Knize Ten, but of
similar quality except that this is a bit darker. The leather's similarities with Peau d'Espagne are indeed interesting. The leather is smokier than Tuscan leather.

Later on in the drydown the smoky component of the leather-tea dyad becomes stronger, underline by a clove-derived spiciness and, most formidably by and added pinch of birch tar. This smokiness has a burning character and dominates the development in my skin until the end.

The performance is sensational, with strong sillage, excellent projection and a stupendous longevity of twelve hours.

This is a smoky burning leathery black-tea powerhouse, and the gutsiest and one of the most remarkable creations of this formidable house. Hardly for wear in the office, but great a a leisure scent, on cold winter days around the open fireplace or outdoors. Whilst the individual components are not exactly strikingly original, the quality of the ingredients is excellent, the blending well done and the overall result delicious. 3.75/5.

Oftentimes in the world of perfumery, I get the impression that consumers and reviewers are new parents, praising and making much of what junior has come up with in his scent laboratory, wanting to be supportive and loving, irregardless of the actual outcome.

Such is the case with Eau du Fier. Just because someone was clever enough to come up with a blend of oils that resembles clove and intense Chinese Black tea, there is also the question of whether it is appropriate to market this scent as a cologne.

Barbara Herman likens its intensity to the classic Peau d'Espagne. She is correct. That scent is too powerful to be accepted in today's world. It was created in a different century, one in which perfumes were used to mask otherwise untended body odors.

Eau du Fier is right at home in that world. Very strong, very intense Lapsang tea, mixed with clove and a hint of mint. I get no orange and the green note of birch bark is barely perceptible.

Turin describes it as a "leathery tea," resembling the interior of a new car. Well, in his world of leather seated Ferraris, perhaps. 4 Stars for originality.

Considering its resemblance to Peau d'Espagne, I cannot credit originality, only cleverness in recreating a classic scent with chemical equivalents to the real ingredients.

Either way it is as unpleasant now as it was in the late 19th century.

Genre: Leather

I waited a long time to get my hands on a sample of Eau du Fier, and I put it on with much anticipation. The scent opens with an intense burst of orange juice, (like concentrate from a can,) joined quickly by a very literal smoke note. And that's about it. These two notes are so isolated that I hesitate to call them an accord. Instead, they play like two completely independent tunes, juxtaposed in the manner of Charles Ives. The gesture is bold, but I don't think it's altogether convincing, especially since it churns over a very thin base. In fact, the whole scent feels to me like an olfactory stunt - at least until the orange note fades out. After that I'm left with a very smoky leather drydown with a major barbecue vibe.

Novel and arresting? Absolutely. A satisfying fragrance? About that I'm not so sure.