Let’s face it: Nuit de Tubéreuse is neither ‘nuit’ nor ‘tuberose’ in any sense of those words. Despite a somewhat promising opening, in which the floral notes sing together harmoniously, the whole choir falls apart into an off-key mess in less than five minutes, with a cheap orange blossom soap attempting to soprano its voice over the rest, but cracking nevertheless – the result is a sweet, faceless dreck that seems to have been cobbled together in a focus group… except L’Artisan Parfumeur doesn’t do focus groups. This is not the beautiful ‘abstraction’ that Luca Turin and Tania Sanchez speak of in describing Beyond Paradise in Perfumes: The A-Z Guide; rather, it is a clueless Bath and Body Works wannabe. Heck, I’ve smelt better Bath and Body Works fragrances that I’d much rather wear, thank you very much. To make matters worse, Nuit de Tubéreuse degenerates into a sweet vat of musk that further underscores the fragrance’s utter lack of direction, in the same way that a tourist visiting Paris for the first time tries to navigate his way around without a map, except the latter experience is far more enjoyable. Imagine my dismay when I found out that it was created by one of my favourite perfumers, Monsieur Bertrand Duchaufour. I guess even the best have their bad hair days. Avoid it if you actually like perfume.
~ The Smelly Vagabond