by Nathalie Feisthauer
The air is still hot. Fiery embers are sweeping accross the land and the mountains, dry like worn hide. Merchants bargain upon the clear sands, upon the clear sands of Isfahan, and curtiers court. Silken rugs of many colours woven, mosaics bluer than Persia itself and the warm penumbra of the vaulted bazaar where the smell of spices dances with that of lambs and snakes’ skins.
It is an aquaforte, the soft engraving of Iran cities’ dreamt.
A constant disequilibrium, the ambiguous glance of eyes veiled with black ; androgynous sillage of flowers and spices, Cuir Cavalier is indeed a battlefield : that of love and lovers fighting. That of a being looking for his balance, that of a soul missing a soulmate.
Sparkles of saffron open the melody, a red explosion of dry threads with hues of leather and tonka, with their dry and lavender accents evoking both the woman untamed than the untameable man. Cuir Cavalier is red like blood, red like the bitten lip of the living offering, red like the muslin veils of regal harems, like the velvety silk of Ottoman diwans, red like a sunburnt skin, red like a lady’s bosom and the lips of a man.
Red like a fire consuming two souls. Red like spices and flame.
Of saffron red, red like a rosey, watery rose, a rose of garden fresh. Metallic and melancholic, ‘tis dawn’s very rose, the Iranian rose blossoming along the fonts. Opulent without being too heavy, languorous yet languidless, she enthralls as saffron enslaves.
It is the rose of a half-hidden smile, the rose of a quiet voice and suave ; an inebriating voice, an enchanting voice which unlocks the doors of the heart and breaks down all inner walls. The hypnotic voice of the person whom we start loving ; her voice, her smell and the freshness of her kiss. Her lip still sugared from biting a pomegranate, still tart from a sip of lemonade.
Tangerine and citruses splatter this accord of fire and water, both leathery and powdery. They become the food and the nectar – they lift up spirits and open up the appetite. They’re the eye sparkling in the darkness, the laugh burst out warningless, the shudder running through two hearts as they beat together. They’re the idleness of the soul when the world around suddenly disappears.
Ingenuity of an existence drowned in a love intense, the fire of passions cooled tempered in the waters of seduction starts spreading. The logs are consumed and smother the flames – there are only glowing embers left.
Cuir Cavalier shines thanks to this ambiguity where the saffron replaces the leather, where the wood replaces the animal, where the flower replaces the metal. It’s a perfume of seven-veils, an offputting perfume. Saffron and rose are no longer feminine. Here they are become manly, almost brutal : the accord is now masculine, steady and elegant. No longer greasy but smokey like a line of khol underneath a princess’ eyes.
As the day goes by, the tonka wakes up. She joins her powdery feel to the faint notes of violet coming off the orris ; sugary she’s the right hand to a heady heart of boozy honey.
Cuir Cavalier bears the boldness of leather and the elegance of the rider ; the beast’s brutality and the master’s integrity. It is a work of contrasts, a tapestry woven with the thread of subtlety and the mastery so usual to Nathalie Feisthauer’s talented work.
The lines follow each other and merge. The rose is metallic like a blade, saffron and tonka bean both speak of leather whereas the honey and oud give off a faint animalic aura. Waxy waxen evocations of the passionate fevers of death and love.
A battlefield indeed. Of two souls fighting, of two bodies crashing and touching and hurting until kissing one another. A bloodless red, a peaceful sacrifice ; Cuir Cavalier is a new take on an accord we thought overused.
Nonchalant, shining through its inadequacy as much than by its might ; head-turning sillage and explosive longevity are its names. Its a perfume that keeps surprising you whenever you think you’ve finally understood its subtleties.
A sensational new entry in MDCI’s perfume library, Cuir Cavalier ravishes heart only to sway them better after. It bites, it lasts and hunts. Its elegance is redoubtable, its fidelity to saffron’s undescribable fragrance is uncanny.
It is a saffron ‘mis à nu’, all of its facets exalted one by one with a constellation of molecules. Perfume found of sultans lost, Cuir Cavalier inspires both nobility and fear, like the haughty profile of a falcon.
The dunes of sand are singing like gunpowder they sing like powder they fly and stick to one’s skin, to the sweaty skin of those who lusted in secret.
In the sands of Isfahan do souls meet,
In the sands of Isfahan do men meet…
Cuir Cavalier - MDCI
EdP 75ml - 225€
Available worldwide. For more informations, visit their Website.