Alamut (Lorenzo Villoresi, 2006)

Rose, incense, patchouli, amber, tuberose, ylang-ylang, neroli.

I find a lot of incense-based fragrances too sweet for my tastes; I've been looking for an exception for quite a while. I have found it in Alamut, which is such a wonderful smell that, in spite of the fact that I only discovered it two days ago, ranks among my favourite fragrances of all time.

On my skin, the initial neroli and tuberose give way quickly to incense, powdery lavender and sandalwood, which are the strongest notes I get from this scent. However, as with Cuir Ottoman (below), the quality that raises this one from good to extraordinary is that the impression I have is not that my skin is wearing an incense fragrance, but that my skin itself smells of incense. My assumption is that this wouldn't be the case with everybody, and that it's a quality of my own body chemistry, but the effect is subtle, sensual and remarkable. My skin smells of lavender talc and Nag Champa.

If I had to choose one 'desert island' perfume, one to wear every single day, Alamut would be a very strong contender. Unlike some of my other favourites, it is a gentle, warm, subtle smell - but no less stunning for it.

Carnal Flower (Frédéric Malle Editions de Parfums, 2005, Dominique Ropion)

Tuberose, coconut, bergamot, jasmine, orange blossom, musk. Inspired by actor Candice Bergen. Contains the largest amount of tuberose absolute in any fragrance.

I've always had a love/hate relationship with tuberose. When I was a teenager I absolutely loved it and couldn't get enough of tuberose scented candles; a few years later I suddenly found it disgustingly sweet and couldn't go near the stuff. It's odd, then, that after a long fascination with the scent, yesterday I finally caved and bought a bottle of Carnal Flower.

Why would I buy a bottle of a smell I don't really like? I'm not sure. It's definitely sweet and heavily floral: two things that instantly put me off a perfume. And yet I like it, and I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because it's a bit dirty and musky; maybe it's because the coconut and jasmine make me think of long, relaxed evenings in warm climates. I don't know, but tonight, after a day walking around in the heat, I smell quite extraordinary: like you'd imagine tuberose-scattered bedsheets to smell after a night of sin, when all the flowers are starting to rot.

Right now, I really, really love this fragrance. But I wouldn't be surprised if, a few months down the road, I'll sniff myself and suddenly feel a bit sick. And then I'll have to give the bottle to somebody who likes florals.