Timbuktu
L'Artisan Parfumeur (2004)

First off, that karo karounde flower is overpowering. Only kidding, I have no idea what part of this scent equation is represented by that note. What I do smell in L'Artisan parfumeur Timbuktu is dusty red earth, dried reed-like grasses, scrubby trees with fragrant needles, and incense drifting from the wooden entrance to a mud brick building. I smell something in between parchment and the low fire burning under skins hung to dry. I "smell" the deepest indigo blue worn by the Tuareg in Gao, not too far from Timbuktu, a place I had the immense privilege to visit on a work trip. I will never forget the triangles of faces with dramatic eyes, sometimes clear blue, between the deep blue turbans and robes. I was not familiar with the tradition of "Wusulan" that inspired Bertrand Duchaufour in his own travels to Mali, secrets of perfumery passed from mother to daughter for seduction and true love. Wusulan, made from vetiver, frankincense, and jacaranda among other ingredients is used primarily as incense to keep love focused on the home. For me, this "green" perfume is the hem of an indigo robe floating just over the terra cotta dust under a sky so blue it shouts, and people stay mute.

I acquired the formulation in the classic packaging (not the unfortunate reform in the black bottle).

Timbuktu has an olfactory cadence, nothing spikes, juts out, darts into your nose and demands attention; it is smooth, sensuous, and quietly seductive.

It starts with tart mango and pink pepper on a bed of woods and incense, and as time progresses, the smoky papyrus and earthy vetiver become more evident, do not dominate but on the contrary, harmonize.

I revisited the rare Karo Karounde absolute that I have in my perfume ingredients collection and indeed, it is evident here in the heart of the fragrance, mildly indolic and almost creamy. The dry down is deliciously resinous and slightly bitter myrrh married with sweet benzoin, a great coda.

I agree with other reviewers that Timbuktu is a catalyst for reverie, a yearning for a place or time that is only a memory, or may have never existed in this lifetime (perhaps another?). Dig it.

Is it possible to be an underrated legend? I'm here to tell you Timmy is an underrated legend.

The backstory to this masterpiece can easily be found in the reviews below, but what I really want to say is that this is the only sniff in my collection that has absolutely improved with reformulation. Do not believe the priss when they tell you otherwise. The original is weaker and a bit pissy. The new one is strong and shimmering and perfect. Nothing plays peekaboo for hours like this gem that doesn't go on like lysol at the top. Lots of perfs wanna grab and shake your face. Timmy *accompanies* you. We all have scents that interrupt. Scents that don't shut up or go quiet more or less immediately. Timmy picks just the right moment in your day to say, hey captain, don't stress. we still here, smelling great and feeling cool.

I am the one friend with a real serious frag problem and this is the only smell I feel confident recommending to absolutely anyone. Some puritan wants to talk shit like they don't like a sniff? Let Timmy tell it to 'em. They'll convert.

My review is for the EDT. I purchased this as part of a miniature gift set less than two years ago.

Bright, fresh citrus, followed sharply by wood. My overall impression is of a walk through a pet store: they keep it clean and spray the Windex as liberally as their institution can afford, but the smell of those hamster cages cannot be denied.

After three hours, Timbuktu wore me out. The piercing cedar-chips smell did not relent and did not evolve. I conceded defeat and washed it off.

Please don't wear this to work, unless of course you don't like the people you work with. But if that's the case, just quit.

Timbuktu is like catnip to me. I put it on and have my wrist to my nose every 5 minutes. I could roll in this perfume. I have some delicious smells in my wardrobe but none that call me in such a flat out sensual way. I remembered when it came out they told me it was for men - and I thought I could not keep my nose and hands off a man wearing that. But now that it's unisex and I'm not put off by the vetiver (which I'm not a big fan of) I'll be the one wearing it! What is it that makes Timbuktu so addictive to me? Is it just me? I laughed to myself when I read the smell was inspired by a Mali richual called Wusulan, a West African tradition of female made incense intended to bring love. If this perfume is an aphrodisiac, that may partially explain my obsession ... but is it my chemistry or something in the perfume itself? The genre? A note? I read it's one of the best masculines for women, like Eau Sauvage. However, I had to throw out my smelling strip for Eau Sauvage out it was irritating me so much. Any insight is appreciated.

Timbuktu is one of a group of scents from the noughties that feature North African themes. Others include Gucci pour Homme - papyrus; Un Jardin sur le Nil - mango; L'air du Désert Marocain - incense.
This one is based on a women's incense from Mali, an aphrodisiac and atmosphere cleanser - all rolled into one.
Duchaufour's take on it is sharp and clear, and then resiny, fruity and sandy.
A desert sweet 'n' sour.