WD/18
A.N. Other (2018)

The house of A.N. Other is pretty weird, like a low-rent Le Labo with the alphanumerical thing but taken a step further into abstraction like they're trying to name a Kraftwerk album or something. Bauhaus architecture and German expressionism aside, the clinical and overtly anonymous theme of the house is furthered by the clinical, medicinal, semi-synthetic vibe of the perfumes themselves, and WD/18 (2018) is an example of that. WD/18 is essentially a sandalwood fragrance, and the modern "reminds me of pickles" type of extremely dry red sandalwood with touches of New Caledonian like Diptyque Tam Dao (2003), Le Labo Santal 33 (2011) or Perris Monte Carlo Santal du Pacifique (2016). What differentiates this one from them is the added floral component and overall transparent vibe of the fragrance itself, which lends an attempted air of mystique to a fragrance that refuses to be identified, from a house that also refuses to be identified. At least we know who the perfumer is, which happens to be Patricia Bilodeau in this case. A.N. Other only likes to work with free agent perfumers who have made the rounds through various other niche companies, so no designer heavyweights tied down to large scale chemical firms like Alberto Morillas need apply here. I'm not picking up what this house is putting down, if you can't tell.

So what do you get besides that dry sandalwood that may or may not smell like pickles (varying by person)? Well, you get an opening of aldehydes and violet ionones, mixed with some fruity aromachemicals designed to simulate "pear sparkle". I guess I can see it, and it reminds me a tad of Calvin Klein cK One Platinum (2019) at this point, which is sort of take it or leave it for me. There is a synthetic rose core mixed with some orris concrete, also very much like a Calvin Klein fragrance, being cK2 (2016) in this case, but also reminding me somewhat of Cartier Déclaration d'Un Soir (2012). All of this wonder cybernet floral metallic coldness comes to an end once the sandalwood materials enter the picture, as they add enough warmth to take this perfume out of the imaginings of a Philip K Dick novel, but it's still kinda weird. There is a vetiver note that doesn't feel real convincing here, like so many "and vetiver" notes added to mainstream perfumery in the men's category, plus the aforementioned dry sandalwood. The perfume is particularly unfeeling and does the remarkable job of conjuring almost zero emotional response from everyone I had sniff it alongside myself. Wear time is about 10 hours so expect a long slog with WD/18, although sillage is just about average. Where and when you'd use this is up to you, I won't try to guess.

A.N. Other is one of those ultimate avant-garde houses that doesn't seem to like applying much context to what they create besides a little blurb about what the perfume is supposed to do and what the starring note is, which feels very tired to me. Le Labo does this, Byredo does this, and countless others do this, all with very industrial-looking plain white labels, cylindrical bottles, and nightmarishly style-over-substance websites that feel like navigating an old powerpoint presentation. I mean, if you're trying to make a perfume to impress your community college graphic design professor, congratulations, a retired middle manager of a Kinkos somewhere is clapping in your honor. A.N. Other WD/18 has just the right amount of white suburban cul-de-sac mom thinks this is artsy while she surfs the IKEA catalog during commercial breaks for The View, and "we're too good for the industry" self-important hubris of some scorned creative directors or industry magnates that got their ideas rejected for the next Paco Rabanne Invictus (2013) or Daisy Marc Jacobs (2007) clone, stirred up and served in a bottle. Overly vague, uninteresting, and slightly slapdash in construction, WD/18 by A.N. Other is not an olfactive mystery I wish to solve. Thumbs down