Poor Bois de Turquie. It was launched in 2008 just around the time the North American distributor of Maitre Parfumeur et Gantier went AWOL or out of business or into a new venture including llamas and purple crystals. It was also around the time that fragonerds started to eye new releases more suspiciously and use spreadsheets to outline their five year purchase plans. Bois de Turquie was launched with little fanfare and quickly departed the shelves right along with the rest of the line, but since the US distributor never got crates of stuff stashed in the basement, it also never became a discounter's dream. I've mostly forgotten about it, and I suspect I was not the only one.
Which is a shame, because MPG's Bois de Turquie has all the makings of a solid niche hit, starting with that juicy spicy opening that announces its heavier intentions upon application. It's a sweet perfume, not quite in the vein of Tobacco Vanille, but slowly inching there on the back of myrrh, incense, and sugar-dusted sandalwood. There's quite a bit going on there, with a beautiful spicy accord that points towards exotica and fantasy Orietalism. Then there's a rich body and dry-down that will smell familiar in its Lutensian blend of sweet sweet cedar and magic.
That's maybe the argument against MPG's Bois de Turquie. Most of us have significant shelf space dedicated to Uncle Serges's Bois and other classic cedary potions. Why do we need this one from MPG? Probably because we love this style, because it smells good enough to drink, because we're (I'm) a sucker for Orientalism in perfumery and the stories they tell about palaces and markets, mosaics in inner courtyards, steamy halls full of flowers and incense, hand-crafted silver bowls overflowing with ripe figs, grapes, and pomegranates. Just reach out through the incense-smoke-air and grab some.
Bois de Turquie- Maitre Parfumeur et Gantier ($130, 100ml eau de toilette) is available from Aedes, but let's just say that Google is your friend and leave it at that.
Art: Edward John Poynter, Corner of the marketplace, 1887