Bvlgari Black appears on almost every "favorite" list in perfumedom. Bvlgari Black is unique and unforgettable. Composed by Annick Menardo in 1998, Bvlgari Black did not use the olfactive pyramid. The tea that fairly puffs with black smoke on the open carries rubber, hot car tires on a summer Kansas highway and leaking oil on the engine with it. But it's not just that, it evens out to something completely its own. This is one of my favorite Best Bang for Little Bucks out there. Bvlgari Black is a great, strong scent, made for either men or women.
The Hundred Classics Pick (Luca Turin & Tania Sanchez)
Bvlgari Black Reviews
From Basenotes - "It came out of the little rubber-coated bottle hitting on all four cylinders, all big, meaty, smoky, and floral in the way that tea smells floral, with an expansive quality that reminded me of redwood forests in the Pacific northwest. The rubber note felt almost like sap (which is where rubber comes from, after all). But what Black really brought to mind was the machine shop at the family business; Dad was a pipeline contractor, and the shop comprised a warehouse of lathe operators and arc welders--hot metal, cool lubricants, and the smell of shavings piling up on concrete. So there it was, a machine shop forest, or a forest in a machine shop, or vice versa."
From Bois de Jasmin - "Black balances between tarry notes and resinous leather. The heart of rubber and woods is dark and smoky. From the first inhale, Black maintains a distinctive character, and even if one is wont to recoil from it, within seconds one wishes to smell it again. As it develops, Black gains a subtle oriental character. The vanilla and amber lend a gentle sweetness, which rounds out the composition. The assertive smoke and resin notes assume a smooth and warm quality in the drydown. If Black started out like a cloud of smoky vapors, it attains a dark vintage cashmere allure."
From Perfume Posse - "Bulgari Black is all of my bad-boy high school/college boyfriends rolled into one bottle of olfactory bliss. You have brooding leather-jacket motorcycle guy, thermal-shirted grunge mechanic guy, coffee-swilling pothead poet (I always wondered-did the Mary Jane and the coffee cancel each other out?) and All- American-looking secret drag-racer and streetfighter, who always, inexplicably, smelled like cookies."