House of Matriarch
House of Matriarch
86 votes
A unique visual signature based on accords, character, and seasonality
The bright, almost aggressive clarity of sage and coniferous resin hits first, immediately muddied by that unexpected kelp saltiness—like standing in a wind-whipped forest near a coastal cliff. The cannabis note emerges quickly, adding a green peppery bite that transforms the opening into something genuinely unusual and briefly disorientating.
By the second hour, the composition settles into a hypnotic leather-and-oud embrace, the cannabis fading into a subtle resinous background that amplifies the amber's dusty warmth. The hyraceum—animalic, honeyed, slightly faecal—adds an intoxicating depth that makes the scent feel genuinely antique and civilisational, like leather-bound books and museum air.
The ambergris and leather dominate the final phases, the fragrance becoming increasingly skin-scent intimate, smoky and warm with that unmistakable leather-and-amber combination that suggests expensive suede worn close to body heat. The sage and woods have almost entirely vanished, leaving only a faint mineral whisper beneath the dense, resinous base.
Black No.1 Blackbird arrives as a austere, almost confrontational composition—the olfactory equivalent of worn leather and charred wood smoke lingering in an abandoned greenhouse. The opening assault of coniferous woods and white sage immediately establishes a medicinal, herbaceous backbone, whilst the kelp note lends an unexpected salty-mineral quality that prevents this from becoming a conventional woody fragrance. What's truly fascinating is how Meshell orchestrates the heart: the cannabis accord doesn't read as trendy or gimmicky here, but rather as a green, slightly acrid resinous element that amplifies the sage and intertwines with the oud's leathery, animalic character. The amber provides warmth and sweetness—the only concession to conventional comfort—but it's immediately curtailed by the emerging leather and hyraceum base notes.
This is resolutely niche: a fragrance for those who appreciate their scents like their literature—uncompromising and demanding. The wearer inhabits artistic spaces: darkened studios, gallery openings, late-night bookshops. There's a sensuality here, but it's deliberately obscured beneath layers of smoke and hide. It's equally suited to solitary evenings as it is to the uniform of the fragrance connoisseur making a quiet statement about their tastes. This isn't a fragrance seeking validation; it's utterly self-possessed, indifferent to whether you'll like it—which, paradoxically, makes it rather magnetic.
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3.8/5 (97)