New Year's Day Memo Paris Double Review: Madurai and Irish Leather

Released in 2022, Madurai is one of sixteen fragrances in Memo’s Fleurs Bohèmes collection. That name gives me pause. Having once lived in Bohemia, I can safely say it isn’t especially known for its flowers. Still, Clara and John Molloy’s brand has assembled a full bouquet under this banner, so let's take a closer look at Madurai.

The idea behind the scent is a streetside merchant’s stall in India. White flowers, peach, turmeric, sandalwood, marigold, and a handful of woody-green notes form the palette, and the opening hits with bright peach and marigold, juicy and green-spicy, hooking me immediately. I've come to recognize marigold (tagetes) as a great "green" note, as it also features prominently in Givenchy's Greenergy, there as a lush spiced grassiness, and here as a more delicate vegetal nuance. 

Then Madurai's striking jasmine accord unfurls like a white flag over a dewy field of greens. Turmeric is clearly present and surprisingly realistic, its fresh, ginger-adjacent bite acting as a bridge between the delicate florals and a soft, restrained Australian sandalwood in the base. The overall effect is clean and airy, yet grounded, thanks to a barely-there sugary tuberose that props up the wispy jasmine accord in the heart.

There’s nothing indolic or challenging about the jasmine here. If you’re jasmine-averse, or wish you liked it but struggle to find something restrained enough to wear comfortably, Madurai is worth a try. It’s office-safe, but far from dull, and the composition is nuanced and well balanced. Several jasmine materials are at work, with synthetics like methyl dihydrojasmonate boosting the dewy freshness alongside jasmine absolute, which I detect in far greater measure than sambac. The persistent peach up top and the texturally creamy sandalwood beneath add acidity and woodiness, keeping the florals from flattening.

No haute niche perfume review is complete without mentioning price. At the time of writing, a 75 ml bottle of Madurai costs $340, or $170 per ounce, which is also the price of the 30 ml size. Is it worth it? If you can afford it, I’d say yes. The high quality of its materials is undeniable, and Gaël Montero’s blending gives the fragrance a distinctively luxurious character. This perfume doesn't come across as complex and challenging, but instead feels like your Basic Girl sneaker juice jasmine soliflore from 2006 was given a major upgrade. It may be the most signature-worthy jasmine I’ve ever smelled.

Here's a fragrance that I like even more than Madurai, yet simply don't understand. Aliénor Massenet  named her 2013 composition "Irish Leather" and then proceeded to give the world a South American yerba maté tea scent. This baffles me, because Ireland is best known for its strong black Assam Irish Breakfast tea, which couldn’t be more different and, with cream and sugar, is far richer and cozier than any herbal concoction.

It would be one thing if the maté note were a minor background thing, but it's the core focus for no fewer than nine hours of wear, making Irish Leather a dank tisane (not leather) scent. Furthermore, it smells really, really good, like a fresh, tannic, and beautifully leafy green tea. The fragrance intros with a brief and very realistic juniper berry accord, fresh and slightly citric, which then segues into this smoky maté for twelve solid hours. 

Irish Leather's base is fairly simple, an unadorned vetiver, but by the seven hour mark, I don't care. Irish Leather has won me over. With that said, someday a perfume house will correctly identify what makes for an Irish smell. Having spent two years in Northwestern Ireland, I can tell you what it really smells like: salty sea air and cow shit. I don't expect anyone to go for that, of course, but if you're aiming to capture the essence of a Northern European country, maybe don't use a prominent South American material, especially when the European equivalent smells even better. I mean, I sort of get it—Postmodernism, cultural appropriation, yadda yadda—but come on. Opportunity missed.