This review of Parfums de Nicolaï Maharanih was supposed to start like this: Some fragrances are the life of the party. They’re attractive, engaging, and you can’t help but gravitate toward them, even if they’re not the sort of people you choose to have in your life all the time.
Then, surveying other reviews, I discovered that many people don’t see Maharanih as a charming diva at all, but as a grating boor. So I’ve changed the angle on this review. Let me start again:
Parfums de Nicolaï Maharanih is like Cher bedecked in Bob Mackie finery. Whether you admire her beauty and audacity, or think she looks like a Trojan drag queen at a disco, you’re sure to have an opinion.
Maharanih was released in 2006, and its notes include bitter orange, geranium, lavender, cinnamon, sandalwood and amber. Maharanih is a king-sized oriental with three major aspects, deftly balanced. First is a friendly, juicy aspect loaded with fresh orange, rose, sandalwood, and amber. The orange smells just like a slice of Valencia zest with all its mouthwatering burn. The rose, strangely, is easier to smell at a distance. (“Your waft smells different than you do up close. More like rose,” my boss said. I taught him the word “sillage.”)
The second aspect is bracing and resinous, full of lavender, geranium, bergamot, and cedar. I love this part of Maharanih. To me, it’s what separates Maharanih from a generic Christmas candle. But I suspect it’s what earns the fragrance its detractors, too.
Finally, Maharanih is spicy. It has prickly, dry, food spices that, thankfully, even with the orange don’t add up to the smell of muffins, although they do hint at a pomander in a cedar-lined closet. A touch of civet blends with cinnamon and wood for a subtly delicious skank.
Mix these three aspects, and you get a commanding fragrance with lots of presence. Maharanih is wonderful on its own, but hard to carry off well without exuberance or force of personality. If Maharanih were a wallpaper, it would be orange and red with large swirling paisley. You’d have to choose simple, modern furniture for the room, or go all out with velvet-upholstered, fringe-swagged craziness and mahogany heft. When I wear Maharanih, it’s often to top off an outfit of mixed prints and nubby textures in Bakelite colors. Even then, Maharanih probably wears me better than I wear it.
Maharanih Eau de Parfum lasts all day, too. Apply with caution, because from shower to bedtime your Maharanih force field will zap all who bridge it. Maharanih also comes in an Intense version (imagine!). Please comment if you can compare the regular and intense formulations.
Parfums de Nicolaï Maharanih Eau de Parfum is available in 50 ml or 100 ml and as Maharanih Intense Eau de Parfum (30 ml). For information on where to buy it, see Parfum de Nicolaï under Perfume Houses.
Note: top image Orange and red by quinn.anya at flickr; some rights reserved.
Oooh this sounds wonderful, Angela. While I definitely couldn’t handle such assertive wallpaper (oddly enough, I adore a monocromatic look spruced up with vibrant throw pillows), I love loud and brash if done well. Even sillage bombs like Mitsouko and Femme Rochas can be fairly well behaved if I spray just once or twice under my shirt, and adding skank as a descriptor is all the more enticing! This is so going on my sample list and if I end up buying her, she can settle in next to my decants of Amanda Lepore, La Nuit and Absolue Pour le Soir, who happily reside next to Kingdom edp and L’Arte. No shy girls allowed in that part of the wardrobe:)
It sounds like Maharanih would be in very good–and rambunctious–company!
The first time I smelled Maharanih, I found it so camphorous and medicinal that all I could think about was a sore muscle ointment. But I kept going back to smell it again and again until the initial flash of cool camphor grew appealing–much like the diesel fume impression of Serge Lutens Tubereuse Criminelle now seems essential to me.
The Intense version stays closer to the skin, I find, but it is a sillage bomb too.
That must be the “bracing” part of the fragrance that I like so much. Thanks for weighing in on the Intense version, too!
Thanks for the review, Angela. It’s now on my to try list. Anything described as a sillage bomb gets my attention. I laughed when you said it will last from shower to bedtime. If I can find something to last until lunch I’m thrilled.
If you do try it, I’d love to know if your skin eats it up, or if it lasts. It’s pretty durable on my skin, at least!
I dabbed Maharanih from a sample and rather liked it until the drydown, when something combines with the civet to go all sweaty-man-shorts. It is almost photorealistic. (“Honey, c’mere! I want to check something…”) It was dead on. I don’t think you come back from that kind of realization… I don’t even think about Maharanih now without snickering.
It’s amazing how connecting a fragrance with something else that smells can ruin a fragrance or make it suddenly feel all about that odor. Robin compared the opening of Nuit de Tubereuse to juicy fruit gum, and I swear I think of it every time I wear the perfume! It’s a gorgeous enough fragrance to have overcome it, though.
Mals, you made me snarfle my lemonade!!!
Now I want to try Maharanih to see what you experienced. I smelled it on paper at the Scent Bar a few years ago, on my whirlwind stop in LA. I just remember loving the name, then recoiling in horror at the scent strip. I wouldn’t give it skin then. I might like it now–my tolerance, no, enjoyment of skank has increased. I’ll have to seek it out. Be well.
I don’t find it overly skanky, but it sounds like results do vary. Do try it again!
My reaction from my first and only attempt to “wear” Maharanih 3yrs ago was a disaster. Similar to Mals, I thought I was smelling sour perspiration. I haven’t dared opening the sample vial since then, but since it has such devoted fans, always considered giving it a second try. Maybe it’s time….
It’s always worth trying things again after a while, I think. There are a few perfumes I didn’t care about one way or another–or even detested–at first sniff, then fell in love with later.
This sounds fabulous! I’ll have to order a sample. Sometimes you just want a flowing ribbon of silky ‘colour’ trailing after you and this sounds like just the thing. Thanks for the fab review!
What a gorgeous image! Now I’ll be thinking of trailing silken ribbons all day.
Oh, lord, I must get my hands on a sample of this.
Velvet-upholstered, fringe-swagged craziness describes my decorating to a T, and I love me some civet. Please tell me the bottle has some tacky charms dangling from it?
Perhaps this will be the perfume I am meant to be! 😀
The bottle, and the label, especially, are danged ugly. Parfums de Nicolai has some marvelous fragrances, and the packaging doesn’t live up to them. But you could always tie something onto one yourself!
I think the rectangular bottles PdN uses for their masculine fragrances are fine, but the round ones for their feminine fragrances are some of the ugliest I have ever seen. I understand putting the money and effort into the juice and using a simple bottle, but the PdN bottles look as if they tried to make them ugly.
The labels don’t help much, either. On the other hand, I guess I could view the packaging as charming and be glad it’s not some focus-grouped, million dollar design that puts more value on appearance than on the perfume.
I bought the Eau Légère version of this for my mother as a room spray to use, well… let’s say that before that, she was using the pre-reformulation Sublime I gave her. No reflection on Maharanih — it was just so inexpensive in the Eau Légère because they were having a sale that it cost no more than a real room spray. Long story short, in that version it’s discrete enough not to inconvenience my dad who is hyperosmic and can’t stand most perfumes. I don’t know whether Parfums de Nicolaï still makes it, but it’s worth checking out to get the accords without the loud paisley.
Great tip! And you know, I bet Maharanih would make a good room spray, at that. Some perfumes cry out for skin, but not this one as much.
I must confess. I really like Maharanih. It’s interesting, difficult, hard to ignore, and yet quite lovely. There are days when I wake up thinking I’m in the mood to wrestle with my scent for dominance, and this is always a good choice for one of those days.
I love it on a cold day when I want a warm burst of perfume power, too!
I do love Maharanih – but then again, I love my perfumes rich, intense, loud, present. The civet aspect mixed with citrus, flowers, and spices is one of my favorite things about it. It’s like a hot summer day among exotic flora. Now, I do have a bottle of the Intense, which I didn’t realize I had purchased until it came in the mail. I don’t recall huge differences between the EdP that tried initially years ago and the Intense that I have now. Granted, I’ve received compliments from passersby when I wear it, but I would love to sit in the room you described and wear it, Angela! Hedonistic excess – yes please.
A maximalist! Me, too. Maharanih is good for that.
I suppose it’s indicative that I was wearing Kouros at the time of commenting!
Yes!
You and me both, Jared! “A commanding fragrance with lots of presence”? Yes, please! I received a bottle of Maharanih in a swap, and am so glad I did. The opening smells like the pomander balls my mom and I used to make out of oranges stuck with cloves, a happy scent memory. And I love civet as well, so Mahanranih is a win all around!
I’m glad you’re loving it!
Goodness, this sounds fantastic. You had me at “prickly, dry, food spices” and then again at the orange-red paisley wallpaper. Where can I get some of that wallpaper, BTW?
Also, love the photo.
Robin chose the photo. It suits the fragrance! If you get the chance to try Maharanih, be sure to let me know what you think.
Maharanih was one of my biggest disappointments. I had sampled it first–in fact, I went through two sample vials and loved it so much I bought a FB. Big mistake–when I tried it out of the bottle, I hated it! I don’t know if it was a dabbing vs. spraying issue or something else, but I just couldn’t wear it. I finally swapped it away in last month’s Swapmania.
I hope you got something you really love!
ma-ha-RA-nee? MA-ha-RA-neh? However you say it, I can’t decide if it sounds good or scary. Guess it’s another one to add to my TPC shopping cart. (OT–Anyone know if they do a spring sale, mother’s day, perhaps?)
Or maybe you can swap for a sample! I think it’s both good and scary (but mostly good).
They have special, one- or two-day sales pretty frequently. I think last year they had one on April 1. I figure there will probably be one soon, if not for April Fool’s day, then for St. Patrick’s Day or Easter or the first day of spring or Arbor Day or Income Tax Day or whatever. If you aren’t on their email list, you should sign up. That way you can be sure to get notice of the sales before they expire.
Those sales are great. I curate my wish list with loving care, and then when the sale is on, I swoop.
How differently we see this one! To me, Maharanih is an autumn scent, quite like potpourri with the lavender-resinous aspect, as you say, keeping it from quite becoming room spray. I’ve never noticed it being a sillage monster–I mean, not like Angel. Opium, Poison, the Mona Di Orios, Veros, Amouages, etc.
I’ve always liked, but never loved this one. It reminds me a little of the 80’s spice bombs, Opium and Cinnabar, toned down with lavender. Nice enough, but not intriguing enough for me to reach for it often.
I can definitely see this one feeling autumnal, with its spices and all. It evokes all sorts of fall colors for me.
I love those ugly bottles! As I have said in a comment on another blog, they are such a triumph of content over packaging. Maharanih is not my favourite of the line, although I do love it. I am actually wearing New York today which I adore. I prefer the original Maharadjah over Maharanih, but my favourite of their feminine perfumes is still Sacrebleu.
I know what you mean–it’s nice not to feel like PdN is as “slick” as its competitors. And the perfume is so nice! Sacrebleu and Le Temps d’Une Fete are my favorites.
New York is one of the perfumes in my husband’s rotation, and probably my favorite. It seems to smell different each time he wears it. I immediately recognize Ormonde Man or Sables or Timbuktu when he is wearing them, but with New York, somehow I don’t immediately recognize the scent, I just notice that he smells really, really good.
That’s truly the sign of a fabulous perfume.
Fun review! I always love your analogies. But I’m veering wildly between repulsed and intrigued by the description of this scent. It sounds like a hot mess, but may end up being gorgeous. I suppose there’s only one way to find out… 😉
I’ll dig up my sample to re-try. If it fails round 2, it will be on its way to you….
NST readers are the most generous, I’m sure of it.
I agree! 🙂
You’ve got it! Only one way to find out. Maybe you’ll be repulsed and intrigued at the same time!
I am sorry to say that, but Maharanih smells like urine of cat on my skin. There is something that dominates the orange scent! Apart from the children’s Petit Ange, I have no luck in this niche line.
Definitely not a winner on you! Oh well, it’s nice to know there’s a perfume house whose new releases you don’t have to rush out and try right away.