I think it's me I feel like Amouage decision is not the right decision for me. I know it has Quentin Beige's signature on it, but somehow I feel that it lost its soul. Don't take it otherwise; it's a nice-smelling fragrance, but it's not Amouage. What do you think?

Fragrance Du Bois is one of those houses I would put in the box-store niche category. It is still niche perfumery, but this is the polished, highly commercial side of niche—the type of house you are much more likely to see sitting in a luxury department store beside brands like Creed, Parfums de Marly, Xerjoff and Initio than tucked away inside a small artisan perfume boutique. And there is nothing necessarily wrong with that. Fragrance Du Bois knows exactly what market they are playing in: beautiful presentation, expensive bottles, smooth compositions, recognizable scent profiles, and fragrances that are generally easy for a luxury consumer to understand. One thing I will give them credit for is quality. Most of their fragrances have a polished, smooth structure. You generally don’t get that harsh synthetic opening or cheap woody-amber drydown that I find in a lot of lower-priced houses. Even when I don’t love a particular scent, I can usually recognize that it has been put together well. And despite the name Fragrance Du Bois, this isn’t simply an oud house anymore. They have moved into gourmands, fresh fragrances, woods, florals, ambers, fruits, and modern masculine styles. There is considerably more variety in the collection than someone looking at the name might expect. Oud Bleu Intense is probably one of the fragrances that best represents what I like about the house. Dark woods, spice, incense and oud, but handled in a very refined way. It has presence without smelling crude or overly aggressive. Oud Jaune Intense goes in another direction—more floral, exotic, and slightly tropical. It shows that Fragrance Du Bois can make something luxurious without automatically making it dark and heavy. Then you have fragrances like Santal Complet, which became extremely popular because of that creamy sandalwood, coconut, and slightly sweet style. Very easy to wear and beautifully blended, although for the money I personally want something a little more distinctive.

Today I’m wearing the brand-new Moore Azul from Happyland Studio, and this one caught me a little off guard. Moore Azul is the second collaboration between E.J. Wells and Alex Moore, and it takes Happyland in a noticeably fresher direction. The official notes are lemon, bergamot, fresh florals, musk and tonka bean. On paper that sounds pretty straightforward, but on skin there is more going on than the note list suggests. Right from the opening I get a bright blast of lemon and bergamot. It is crisp, clean and energetic without becoming overly sharp. The florals start showing themselves fairly quickly, but I wouldn’t call this a floral fragrance. They mainly give the citrus some lift and keep everything feeling airy. As it settles down, the musk becomes much more noticeable, with the tonka underneath smoothing everything out and adding just enough sweetness. The tonka doesn’t turn Moore Azul into a gourmand or make it heavy. It gives the fragrance some body so it doesn’t smell like another thin citrus freshie that disappears after the opening. And that’s probably what I like most about this one. Happyland has always been known more for its dense, bold, sometimes quirky artisan fragrances, and Moore Azul feels like E.J. Wells showing another side of the house. It’s still recognizably Happyland, but cleaner, brighter and much easier to reach for in warm weather. This is definitely a spring/summer fragrance and exactly the type of Happyland I can wear when the temperatures start climbing. In fact, Happyland themselves specifically position Moore Azul as a crisp spring and summer release. Performance: So far I’m getting good projection and a noticeable scent trail without it becoming overpowering. That’s important with a fresh fragrance. I don’t necessarily need something screaming off my skin in the heat; I want something people can smell around me that still feels refreshing. Moore Azul isn’t trying to reinvent fresh perfumery. What it does is take a familiar citrus/floral/musk structure and give it some of that Happyland artisan personality. It’s clean, masculine leaning to my nose, extremely wearable and probably one of the easier Happylands to recommend to somebody who normally finds the house a little too heavy.