Indigo
Baruti (2015)

This is a perfume built on a series of weird but wearable contrasts.
First, it is balsamic but also airily floral. With its clutch of frankincense and mastic, it smells like a dense wall of greenish balsams – all crushed pine needles, sap, and terpenes – through which a slightly wilted (but still deodorant fresh) tandem of oily hyacinth and lush rose throbs like a flesh wound. Still, despite all the floral and balsamic notes, the first big hit to the synapses is of polished wood and spice.

It is never less than syrupy sweet, thanks to that rose, but it is also as vegetally piquant as long fingers of butter pickles fished straight from a jar to your mouth. This watery, almost cucumberish element seems like it would make the scent feel fresh, but instead, the overall impression is one of dark, seedy warmth.

Something about the interaction between the peppered wood, the gripe water florals, and that balsamic curtain of green makes me think of something delicious reduced to a dark, sticky concentrate. Its nectary heft makes me think of those balsamic vinegar glazes you buy to drizzle over a tagliata or green walnut salad – sweet, sour, and thick with the umami tang of Parmesan or soy.

The sandalwood and labdanum in the base are supposed to bring the bodacious comfort of an amber to finish things off, but hold up, because though there is creaminess, it is the animalic creaminess of goat yoghurt, sweat, and caramel taken too far past burning point. The lingering tartness or acidity from the hyacinth, or maybe even from Baruti’s signature ‘nood’ – a dank, metallic, but rousing synthetic base built to approximate oud without using any of the industry’s off-the-shelf oud synths – runs in the background like an application, giving the blend an addictive piquancy that keeps your nose returning for more.

Like many of Spyros’ creations, Indigo is perhaps too special or distracting for me to wear on a regular basis. But I plan to buy it one day, if only as a piece of olfactory art I bring out for those specific moments when I want to tumble down wormholes and wander the labyrinthine pathways of a true artist’s imagination.

Baruti Indigo is simply stunning, one of those fragrances which reconcile me with my sometimes/somewhat tarnished passion for the modern perfumery. Indigo is not a particularly complex olfactory articulation, it is on the contrary a simple gracious impeccable combination of leafy rose, victorian hiacynth, delicate spices and languid resins, a soapy whiff of green petals, green musks and fluidy resins (synth aoud, soapy amber and floral/balmy frankincense). There is a creamy (yet narcotic and obsessive) floral soul which is vaguely decadent (rose/hiacynth), aristocratic and somewhat funereal. Incense is the dominant note, such a poetic, rosey, solitary, melancholic, nobiliar note, a presence conjuring the spoiled decadent aristocratic gardens and churchyards of the Charles Dickens-masterpiece Great Expectations (but finally urban and conceptual). Mastic enhances the resinous vibe and provides a touch of green sticky artisanship. The woody presence is kind of soapy/balsamic and vaguely laundry (like inhaling soapy aromas in a spice-bazaar or inside an artisanal dodgy apotecary). I've smelled the real burning cedarwood's aroma somewhere in North Africa and it smells really close to this resinous and romantic composition in the middle between something a la Kurkdjian Lumière Noir Pour Homme and several Amouage's (I've never tested the assumedly close Indigo by Magnetic Scent). This fragrance is supremely musky and opulent, a great combination of floral rural artisanal greenness (several indie floral creations jump on mind) and synthetic musky-chic contemporary minimalistic sophistication. Dry down is a fantastic musky "skin" sandalwood-fragrance vaguely dirty (resinous), "ambient" and super modern (kind of urban). Leaning towards the masculine side imo. A great sinister rose. Recommend.

As this opens, I get a strong feeling of nostalgia and realise it takes me back to my youth having just purchased a big bag of floral gums, burying my nose in the bag and vacuuming in their wonderful synthetic, flowery aroma.

This opens big, fresh, floral, verging on air freshener (which is usually an instant no from me but there is something so clean and compelling here that I can't help but enjoy it.) The hyacinth is beautiful and has none of the dirty notes you sometimes experience. I get a bit of an Ambre Solaire vibe too (the clear bottle with the oily brown liquid and bright orange lid from the 70/80's.)

I get no mastic, frankincense or woods, which is a shame as these are notes I love. On my skin, it's a hyper floral that finishes with a soft creamy note (possibly from the sandalwood.)

Performance is great, which you'd expect from an Extrait de Parfum. I sprayed this once and 30secs later my wife shouted from the floor above me “have you just sprayed something?” It's powerful stuff!

Definitely not a fragrance I'd wear often as it's dizzyingly floral, but I enjoyed the ride and might want to experience it again in the future.

I loved Indigo from the first time I wore it. Mastic, hiacynth and olibanum together make a great combination. To me it smells very green and rich. I also detect some sandalwood in the background. I don't get the other notes. It is a parfum extract and a little goes a long way. This is a fragrance that lasts for 7-8 hours on me. Perfect for summer.

Synthetic, yes!
And I don't care.
For me, it hit's the nerve centers in way similar to Amouage Opus VI although it is far less complex and honeyed, tobacco-ed.
Intoxication, immediate dazzling Frankincense splendour, hangover-like headache and a need to spray again.
If I didn't have the Opus.

The opening is quite intriguing with its floral core - hyacinth, rose and a resinous undertone, with a slightly spicy note. The latter grows stronger in the drydown and becomes a core feature of this olfactory composition.

The later phases are characterised by an additional rather nonspecific woodsy background imoression, when a distictky synthetic oud develops that is less penetratingly intrusive as synthetic ouds tend to be, and after a while it blends in quite well with the spicy note; the latter becoming a veritable and pleasant frankincense after a while. The pseudo-oud and the frankincense form the backbone of this olfactory creation until the end, with the Oud gradually less prominent and increasingly submerged in the frankincense.

The performace is impressive indeed, with strong sillage especially if the frankincense, excellent projection and a truly marvelous thirteen hours of longevity on my skin.

Whist a quite synthetic and not always convincing, overall this is a nice autumn scent with great performance. 3/5.