As much as I grumpily exclaim, “Oh look another rose perfume.” every time I receive a new one there is a reason to sniff them. For all that rose is the undisputed champion of fragrance my lack of enthusiasm stems from the fact that too often it is just another generic version. The reason I try every one is because rose as an ingredient has so much potential in the right creative team’s hands. When that happens, I am drawn deep into the complexity of its beauty. It is that experience I had with Masque Milano Love Kills.
Riccardo Tedeschi (l.) and Alessandro Brun
Over the last six years the creative directors at Masque Milano, Alessandro Brun and Riccardo Tedeschi, have proven to be one of the smartest in all of independent niche perfumery. Usually when I hear a brand I admire is bringing out a rose soliflore I am usually underwhelmed. A reason I felt differently about Love Kills is because Sigs. Brun and Tedeschi have an unmatched record at using young talented perfumers early in their careers. They also have a reputation for allowing them an opportunity to spread their creative wings. This is not usually afforded younger perfumers on their earliest briefs. It is one of the reasons I believe Masque Milano has stood out among its competitors.
For Love Kills they collaborated with perfumer Caroline Dumur. Mme Dumur has landed on my radar screen with a flourish. She was behind two of the recent Comme des Garcons releases, Chlorophyll Gardenia and Odeur du Theatre du Chatelet. I hesitate to look for too much in a scant few data points but Mme Dumur has shown a deft touch with overtly synthetic ingredients which provide an odd contemporary effect by the end. In Love Kills this is inverted. Starting with a synthetic opening it ends on an elegiac accord for a floral queen.
The synthetic opening is a combination of the light muskiness of ambrette and the metallic floral quality of rose oxide. What turns this is the addition of lychee with its syrupy mustiness. It coats those shiny surfaces with treacly viscosity. In the heart a traditional lush rose pushes back against that modernity. It is classically paired with dark patchouli. This is the deep passionate rose that draws so many admirers. As contrast to that modern top accord it asks which you prefer. I find the question has been provocatively asked by Mme Dumur. The final part of Love Kills is the desiccation of that rose using the synthetic ambergris analog ambrarome and austere cedar. Like the silica in a drying jar it leaves a dusty rose over the final phase of development.
Love Kills has 12-14 hour longevity and average sillage.
As much as I enjoyed the classic v. modern tussle on top of Love Kills it is the final portion which has stayed with me. There is a tragic feel of love which has, indeed, killed. It leaves only the memory of passion in the scent of a dusty rose.
Disclosure: This review is based on a sample I purchased.