Nuit de Bakélite

Green with a capital G, Nuit de Bakelite opens crisp, spicy, vegetal, and metallic, like a jalapeño with a chemical edge. Not especially grassy though interestingly, it's got a fascinating realistic freshly snapped stem quality, contrasting those intentionally plasticky facets. As it wears on, dry, dusty, and slightly powdery iris creeps up and slowly takes over. I can kind of tell theres something behind the volatile, fresher greener, notes holding them down, but it's difficult detecting the tobacco and leather underneath the dry iris and tuberrose. As someone who fell in love with fragrace via weirdo niche scents and vintage white florals, Nuit de Bakelite is so frustratingly close to a love for me. I think it's because of galbanum really being the main character here, and I am not really a galbanum girly. I much prefer the supporting notes of creamy tuberrose and dry orris, tobacco, and violet leaf. Its a real shame. Because, Nuit de Bakelite is the only heavily green, heavily tuberrose scent that has any real staying power on me. As while not projecting very far, I can smell it all night long as a skin scent and on hair. She can be a bit austere, a bit challenging, and unapproachable, but I'm glad I met Nuit de Bakelite and gave her a try.

Exquisite opening, v fresh and green. Intense iris blends beautifully w cardamom and other florals. Tomato leaf in the opening fades on skin for a soft leather. I dont smell the "bakelite" as tuberose and tomato leaf are clearly themselves, v realistic. Lovely dry down.

haunting and beautifully sterile. she's a clean, green, metallic machine. it's like if a mortuary autopsied plants instead of humans

Tuberose and artemisia sex show on an old leather bed. It’s oily, petrol-like, almost as if the tuberose and artemisia are using petrol as lube. The petrol is almost bored; the idea of tuberose and artemisia excites it. Then the petrol absorbs the oils of both, dissolving the bitter green artemisia and the alkaloid flower oils of fleshy tuberose. They all seep deeper into every crevice and pore of the leather, awakening everything it has absorbed before.

The nuclear bomb of perfumes

Spicy green, floral and very vegetal. I agree that there's a strong green pepper note but the tuberose does a great job of softening it. Very witchy and earthy, I've never smelled anything quite like it. There's also a beautiful dusty facet that reminds me of irises. A little goes a long way.

Tested my 1 ml sample of this in my bedroom on paper and the smell lingered for DAYS. It made my entire bedroom smell like a slightly smoky pepper and I could not get rid of it. It got overwhelming and headache inducing eventually.

Green? You want green? Crikey things don’t get much greener than this! Let’s dive in…. Isabelle Doyen has created a monster for Naomi Goodsir and a cruely beautiful one at that (think Jessie Buckley in ‘The Bride’, this would be her signature scent, gently masking the encroaching decay). Nuit de Bakelite engulfs any space it inhabits; a little goes a very long way. A veil of sombre resinous galbanum, tuberose, tomato leaf and leather are the notes that stand out for me but there’s an ancillary cast of minor players nudging the elixir into still darker territory. It’s an attention grabber and worthy of it. Handle with care but moreover enjoy!

First of all this reminds me of a very celery-like smell from Frederic Malle (either Dans Tes Bras or French lover), as well as Timbuktu from L'artisan. You know those green chilli pepper you taste in certain cuisines? This kinda smells like that. Also all of her perfumes smells like this, very wabi-sabi... It's classy but also very Australian, like the feeling Aesop gives you.

My one and only. Fell in love with it from the first psst! It reminded me of a garden from my childhood in the 80s. It’s very spiritual and angelic. However, not everyone’s taste. Not a crowd pleaser. It’s a moment of a connection between you and the nature. Wear it alone or with some vegetarian fellows. If you look after trendy perfumes, this is not for you.

There is a tobacco drydown to this herbal tuberose. It’s almost smoky, reminds of Cade (Masque Milano - Russian Tea??) One light spray on each wrist in mild June weather is working for me.

Bakelite is an interesting material, the world's first fully synthetic plastic made out of a phenol-formaldehyde resin, which makes it fully moldable into whatever shape is desired before curing. This how we got the famous Bakelite telephone (which, if land lines were still a thing, I would totally have one - and maybe a rotary too!). As someone who has been in medical laboratories for nearly the majority of my life I find the formaldehyde component particularly interesting. Formaldehyde is a nasty chemical, and I am acutely familiar with it. Its aroma has been programmed to ring an alarm bell in my head; a spill or a strong gaseous presence means that I and the entirety of my team need to evacuate the area. It will preserve the structures in tissues so that they are able to be used for diagnostic purposes. This function has advanced medical sciences in incalculable ways. Yet in order for the structures and tissues to live they need to be able to change (i.e. cellular replication, respiration, protein synthesis, and transportation); this means that formaldehyde kills by way of preservation, which is a fun thing to wax philosophic on. Let's use it to make a cheap, long lasting and convenient material for the home! Let's capture it in a perfume! Neat! We humans are adventurous and baffling creatures sometimes. I get the alarm bells in the opening of the perfume. They ring loudly like a klaxon. The gaseous and white heat of fuel-like chemicals from a violet leaf note pairs with an ice cold and chalky green pea type galbanum and a bitter green herbal angelica. If I mute the alarm bell to attempt an alternate identification, my mind goes next to a strong menthol cigarette type note - an equally challenging aroma for me. Yet something lurks underneath, a floral semi-sweetness that says "be on guard but not afraid" and I continue to be lured in by this highly unique, compelling and challenging character. I’m not evacuating despite the instinct to do so. Once the noxious gases dispense, the florals rejuvenate... sort of. Continuing the theme of evaporative cooling, or TRPM8 receptor binding - or just simply danger - are orris, tuberose, and davana in a truly remarkable floral heart. The orris is cold, starchy, silvery and metallic; the tuberose connects to the opening via a hardened, pale green edge like a dull knife, rounded out by a waxy indole and almond muskiness; the davana is its natural boozy self, not letting you forget the herbal and noxious gas from the opening, but lessening the danger with its raisin-blackcurrant-like balsam bass note. Nuit de Bakelite continues to warm up and reveal itself to you, its claws and poisons coyly turning to open arms and a gentle smile. A slightly smokey and animalic styrax presents a supple and rich suede like note, while the floral theme is carried into the dry down with a cistus labdanum note that is not cold, metallic, and green as it was in the preceding layers but now plush, pink, and a bit sweet and fruity. They rest on a strident dark wood base of earthy guaiac. In the beginning Nuit was frigid, brittle, poisonous, gaseous and unforgiving, but now that character has shifted to a stiff but more pliable and curious warmth where you can still clearly smell that earlier personality lurking around inside. Simply hit its hair trigger to see the transition between Jekyll and Hyde. I am completely taken with Nuit de Bakelite. It crosses so many boundary lines between the unnatural and deleterious, the human and warm but complicated, sharp and lethal neon green fumes and natural Mother earth browns, yet it never loses cohesion, legibility, or purpose. It is rare for a perfume to have such an expansive breadth of character but still feel focused and whole. Excellent work.

Everything I like in a scent presents in Bakelite. Absolutely gorgeous scent, monster performance. Beautiful.

I love the name but I feel like this fragrance could’ve also fit the name ‘Poison Ivy’. It starts off an incredibly heady brew of glowing green notes. I think that’s one of the big hooks for its’ fans. On rich green notes, it delivers. The other big hook is its’ clever structure of intense greens over a base of realistic, creamy tuberose. For this it reminds me of CDG Chlorophyll Gardenia, her simpler, less accomplished cousin. 4 out of 5.

Smells like raw jalapenos, parsley stems, and a handful of other fresh green herbs with a slightly creamy tuberose base. Previous reviewers weren't exaggerating--this stuff is STRONG. Out of roughly 140 perfumes that I've tested in the past few years, Nuit de Bakelite is one of only two that I had to rate as eternal with enormous sillage (the other being Lattafa's Atlas). My skin normally drinks fragrances, but a tiny half-spritz from a 2ml sample applied to the neck lasted all day long. As soon as I stepped foot in the office, a female co-worker remarked, "You smell spicy." A work of art, but not especially wearable unless you really love a bitter, spicy, green herbal profile. Limited versatility; daytime and warm weather only.

Smells like violets and herbs to me, 3 people told me i smell like jalapeños 🤷 Its a unique and enjoyable scent

Ugh what the hell? I had saved for test a while ago and ordered a sample while I was high. I went through this "photorealistic greens" phase trying to find a scent that smelled exactly like a lawn/garden... Anyway, when I opened it I was like, are you joking? The notes are a LIE. First of all the initial scent is abrasive. My boyfriend says it smells like ginseng, idk. I was not too mad at it and kind of thought it smelled like a grandpa's herb shop at first, not so "fresh" and more medicinal. There is like plastic, rubber, something of an old house. But as it dried down even after a few minutes it is like on another planet from "green" or "herbal." This perfume smells exactly of the expired travel-size lotion of an old lady. My grandma had some things like this from the 1980s that are powdery, soapy, and deep floral in all the wrong ways. I wish I remember the actual name of the lotion because this is the same. There's a weird grape undertone that pisses me off too. But listen, the real reason I am pissed of is because it smells unlike anything I could have ever imagined based on the notes and the description of the perfume. I feel lied to, offended even. It's not that it smells bad, you just simply cannot wear this perfume if you are younger than 65 years old. Your vibe won't be strong enough to pull it off. Only other use I can think of is an 80's themed party or event which it would actually be perfect for. Or maybe for millennials or Gen X to remember the scent of their mother's bathroom with the wall to wall mirrors and awkwardly placed houseplants? Edit: I had to google what is "bakélite" before realizing I should have known better. Bakelite is the kind of synthetic plastic they use to make household items and jewelry in the 1970s and 1980s. The warning is in the name; I feel a fool.

The 1ml test sample I received was so strong smelling even before spraying my entire room reeked. Literally had to put it in a ziplock bag and store in another space to remove the odor. Not for me.

It’s been quite a journey for me with Nuit de Bakelite. I fell for it pretty early in my perfume exploration and wore it obsessively for an entire season. Then, almost overnight, love turned into strong aversion - it literally started to turn my stomach. I think it was that hyper-intense green note people compare to bell peppers (honestly, pretty accurate). I’m really glad I didn’t sell my bottle, though. A year later I came back to it, and now I genuinely enjoy it again. This is not your typical green-floral tuberose (definitely not in the vein of Carnal Flower or Eshal). To me, it smells like crushed stems and roots, with damp soil still clinging to them - almost like plant pulp (someone else described it that way in a review below, and I couldn’t agree more). A few stray petals seem to have fallen into the mix by accident, but they’re clearly not the focus. I don’t usually care about seasonality in perfumes, but this one is very specific for me. It only really works in that narrow window at the very beginning of spring - when there’s already some sun, but nature is still mostly asleep. Around 15°C, dry air, light hand on the trigger - that’s when it truly sings. Because yes, the sillage is huge… and honestly, it doesn’t do this fragrance any favors.

Beautiful green profile. Reminds me of a green garden, only leafs, no flowers. There is this earthy smell that reminds me of vegetal roots. The drydown is soft, clean and slightly aromatic. No sweetness, no warmth. Unique. 100% recommended. Acquired taste.

If neon green had a scent, it would be the opening of Nuit de Bakelite. The first few moments are pure galbanum. You smell freshly cut stems: vegetal, wet, sharp, almost acidic. But the green’s so strong and bright, it goes past smelling natural. It pulses and glows with the otherworldly hue of radium. This stage of the perfume is so weird and beautiful, I wish it lasted forever. But it doesn’t. A few beats in, the neon retreats to the edges, and a more natural shade of green begins to bloom thanks to the tomato leaf. The perfume still has a serrated sharpness, but in comparison to the opening, it now registers as sweeter. As it dries down, the floral elements get stronger. It's like a slow olfactory camera tilt up the length of a bouquet — from the stems of the flowers, to its petals. Finally, the tuberose and ylang-ylang enter the frame. But, just when you think the perfume's settled into its true character, there’s another trick. A haze creeps into the frame -- almost like someone off-screen has set down an ashtray next to the bouquet, and set it down a little too heavily, so a puff of ash swirls into the air. The metaphorical camera zooms out until we see the room all this is taking place in, complete with ashtray, some leather chairs, and half-drawn curtains. The weird, vibrant plant life at the center of Nuit de Bakelite has now been subsumed by human life. The leather chairs look supple and lived-in. The tobacco dust smells slightly stale, but in a way that suggests worldliness — a touch of vintage mystery and fading glamor. It’s like the perfume’s connecting the surrealism of its opening to the elegant strangeness of old galbanum-greats like Chanel No19. This isn't meant to smell natural, but it is meant to smell like a continuation of perfume history. By the end of its run, it's a touchingly domesticated masterpiece. TLDR; Nuit de Bakelite starts off otherworldly, and ends up being very worldly. For anyone who enjoys perfume as art, it's a journey worth taking.

Interesting variation of a harder harsh green strong scent with a rustical, slightly scratchy tomato leaf undertone and bit carroty undertones, it is not the usual "smooth" stem-lightened green variant. Plastic or other inorganic "impurities" did not develop on me. After three hours the scent shifted to a slightly vinegary sour notes and in the evening after almost 6 hours total on skin I can still smell it, but only a slightly sweet violet remains.

Am i the only one smiling tomato chips?!

This is not your usual pretty tuberose. What makes me love this fragrance isn’t simply that it’s green, or even that it features tuberose; it’s the unmistakable witchy vein running through it. A dark-green, unsettling scent that refuses to please everyone. Judging by the reactions I’ve received (which never influence my choices anyway), people either find it astonishingly beautiful or say I smell like a walking vegetable stand. It’s very much a love-it-or-hate-it kind of fragrance; and I’m firmly in the love camp. Rather than opening with a bright, lively greenness, it begins with a cynical blend of damp stone and incense. Vegetal, herbal, and indolic; yet never bubblegummy; this is a a tuberose, devoid of sweetness; cleansed and austere. Angelica and bitter, sharp green galbanum hit hard and unapologetically; and to me, this pairing is one of the key elements that gives the fragrance its unmistakably witchy character. Deep in the base, I detect immortelle; not extinguished, but restrained; dry, hay-like and a resinous, smoky leather. It feels as though this green, vegetal tuberose has been locked away in a dark, damp cellar, left to struggle and grow without light, fighting for survival; and succeeding. There’s also a very clear presence of orris root, though unlisted: cold, austere, and unmistakably chalk-dry. Perhaps the most beautiful aspect of this perfume is the complete absence of warmth and sweetness. It evokes shades of deep green, muted green, and icy white. Stunning. Lately, I wear it with just a single spray; anything more overwhelms and dilutes the very sensations I love, as it’s intensely potent and concentrated. This fragrance deserves a small story: A Necromantic Witch with pale green skin, thick emerald waves of hair, translucent flesh beneath which dark green veins are visible, large grey eyes, and an arrestingly elegant presence. She has no friends, nor does she need any; except for the familiars she resurrected from the realm of the dead: Bell Ghostlet (tuberose), Nightshade Hare (immortale), Thimble Crow (galbanum), and Black Stitch (styrax). Her life is devoted entirely to the forest, harvesting rare and deadly herbs. From these, she brews toxic essences to nourish corpse-blooms that grow in grave-soil. With each flower, she replaces one of her organs, slowly shedding her humanity; her ultimate goal being to transform into a garden entity.... Tag(s): witchy, gothic, green, bitter, herbal, green tuberose, leathery, dark, flower stem, vegetable root

Beautiful vegetal leather on me. Extremely potent. It’s so unique and well done. I just need to find a use case for wearing it out! Edit - just got home from work and I can still smell it on me but my room smells like I JUST put it on. Granted I did not listen to warnings and went spritz crazy this morning. But it’s a BEAST wow

The reviews were not kidding about the potency of this one - one spray on a tester strip among 25 other tester strips was enough to make my bag smell like Nuit de Bakelite from about a foot away. It's a unique and gorgeous smell, extremely vegetal with a plastic undertone. Sliced bell pepper, tuberose petals, tomato and violet leaf. I'll need to prepare for 24 hours before trying this on skin, but I'm counting down the minutes until I get to.

One spray is more than sufficient to demonstrate why Nuit de Bakelite (my, what a strange name) is an award-winning scent. Though vaguely following in the vein established by Cellier's Bandit for Piguet, NdB establishes itself as a neo-green leather from the very first moment on the skin. Opening barefoot on a note of sliced green bell-pepper, such confidence in its own weirdness immediately takes my attention. Lying beneath this green-vegetal gossamer is a gargantuan floral iris, powdery and rooty and, to my nose, evocative of the totality of Olfactive Studios' Iris Shot. And just before the bitter-powdery greenness can become too much, soft carroty and biscuity leather rises up from the base like a whale taking a breath of fresh air. It's so strange, so enormous, and yet also so beautiful that I really struggle to find the words to describe it. Despite its marvellousness though, when I examine (again and again and again) NdB I realise that, on an emotional level, I think it's merely trying to be conventionally beautiful and not much else (or this is all it gives to me, on the inside). I find, in its weirdness, it evokes nothing in terms of places, times, emotions in me, it smells purely like a perfume demonstrating how incredible perfume can be for its own sake, and nothing more. Thus, despite its deserved renown as one of the most ground-breaking contributions this century, I have a subtle suspicion that few will take to actually wearing it habitually, myself included. No, when I wrest myself from the arms of this green incubus I do immediately realise that its experimental character is simply who it is - too weird to not love, too weird to wear. A perfume not of this Earth.

unsettling and addictive, like the animal magnetism of some otherworldly interloper. there's something different in every whiff; one second it's refreshingly clean tuberose, the next is oppressively vegetal. i've never smelled anything like this before.

This is it y'all. This is Neo in the Matrix. This is the one. I've searched high and low for a scent profile like this and was sssoooo close to just saying fk it, doesn't exist .....but I finally found a straight up beast mode green fragrance with a serious vegetal vibe going on. Usually the words green and vegetal are associated with weak longevity but not here ladies and gentlemen. I sprayed this shit in the morning and left for work, returning hours later and was punched in the face with this beauty as soon as I opened my front door. She was right there to greet me! White florals dance with this green cloud of tomato leaf that is light years ahead of Corsica Furiosa by Parfum D'empire and leaves a scent trail you want to follow. The kind of perfume people will stop you for and ask what the hell you're wearing. The tuberose is apparent along with sharp galbanum. This is so incredibly good and versatile. Unisex and can be worn by anyone, anywhere, dressed up or down. Hoping it never gets discontinued because there's nothing else like it on the market.

Amazing! Not everyone would appreciate this masterpiece.