Goutal
A unique visual signature based on accords, character, and seasonality
Citrus oils fracture immediately against hot pepper, the bergamot's brightness going almost metallic as it collides with Madagascar's green peppercorns. Within minutes, the immortelle announces itself with that distinctive curry-powder sweetness, already hinting at the dried-flower strangeness to come.
The jasmine emerges not as white florals usually do—lush and creamy—but rather parched and resinous, wrapped in moss that brings an almost fungal earthiness. Sandalwood begins its slow assertion, dry and slightly smoky, whilst the pepper maintains its clarifying presence, preventing the immortelle from tipping into pure gourmand territory.
What remains is amber-soaked wood and the immortelle's persistent, maple-tinged sweetness, now softened into something almost edible yet still fundamentally austere. The moss provides a grey-green undercurrent that keeps the base from feeling heavy, leaving a skin-scent that's somehow both bone-dry and subtly resinous, like sun-bleached driftwood that's absorbed years of Saharan spice winds.
Sables is a study in contradictions—sun-scorched dryness wrapped in resinous warmth, like pressing your face into hot sand that still holds last night's incense smoke. Annick Goutal's 1985 creation opens with a deceptive brightness, bergamot and mandarin offering mere seconds of relief before the Madagascan pepper arrives with its green-tinged bite, clarifying rather than softening the composition. This isn't the creamy, tourist-friendly sandalwood you'd expect; the Indian variety here reads austere and slightly smoky, acting as scaffolding for the Corsican immortelle's peculiar magic—that strange, curry-like sweetness that hovers between maple syrup and dried straw.
The jasmine threads through without dominating, its indolic warmth tempered by moss that brings an almost chalky, mineral quality to the heart. There's an earthy, lived-in quality here that makes Sables feel less like a beach holiday and more like an archaeological dig site at golden hour—all ochre dust, fossilised amber, and the phantom scent of flowers that bloomed centuries ago. The amber provides structure rather than sweetness, binding the spice and wood into something that sits close to the skin yet refuses to disappear.
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4.1/5 (383)