Nothing says spring like a new fragrance for the cologne cabinet. Since we’ve had a chilly start of it, this warm and woodsy offering By Kilian – rather unfortunately named ‘Straight to Heaven’ – is the latest addition to my addiction, where it fittingly bridges the transition between winter and spring. The first time I encountered this exquisite gem was in New York several years ago. My Mom and I had just come out of the Plaza and were about to head back to our decidedly-less-fancy hotel when the windows of Bergdorf Goodman and their Men’s Shop called to me. We stepped gingerly through the revolving door and the relative calm was an immediate balm from the bustling street. To the right, a curved wooden and glass display case housed part of their colognes.
I stopped first at the Tom Ford section, quickly assessing that there were no new Private Blends in evidence, and fished around for some news on what might be coming next. Nothing. I crossed over to another counter where a pushy but fabulous salesperson was spraying a multitude of sample cards and intoning me to try them out. At the time I was new to the oud game, but I told her I liked things on the woodsy side, though also partial to citrus and some element of sandalwood. She showed me a new oud By Kilian, which was nice, and then, almost as an afterthought, sprayed a thick white card with their signature scent, ‘Straight to Heaven’. As repellent as the name was, the scent itself was divine. Reluctantly, I admitted I loved it, but at about $300 it wasn’t in my financial vocabulary. Not then, anyway. I pocketed the card and we made our way back out to the sidewalk. Ever since that fateful day in May I’ve thought fondly of the scent, and that moment, and the promise of spring, and it’s remained in my memory.
Having haunted me for all this time, the scent has remained elusive due to my own design. I’ve resisted procuring samples because I didn’t want to alter the memory in the event that I one day did find a way to purchase a bottle. Fragrance is a powerful memory trigger, far more effective than song or sight. I did some reading up on ‘Straight to Heaven’. (When things are out of reach, financially or otherwise, I find solace in researching and reading about them.) A rum-based spicy member of the woody family, the literature attributed its complexity to patchouli, dried fruits and nutmeg, along with notes of musk, cedar, amber and vanilla. Once again, something that sounded hideous on paper (more like a recipe for a dish I would never make) turned into something wondrous when it reached the skin.
When Sephora finally featured it on their website, I quickly dug out the gift certificate that Andy had presented on Valentine’s Day and used it to pay for a portion of a bottle. I’ve been in need of a fragrant jolt, something special to kick off a spring season that seems determined to stay on the snowy side of things. ‘Straight to Heaven’ bridges that gap beautifully. It opens with the aforementioned blast of rum, and all the other ingredients conspire to make an initially-questionable cacophony of sensation. One is unsure whether to sniff, feast, swallow or run from the thing. Relax and let it play out, or get riled up and upset because the relief and the dry-down will be even better; there’s a reason the bitter is designed to go with the sweet.
I’d forgotten how powerful the opening was, as well as how quickly it dissipated, so I went with the roller coaster until it evened out. And then it was absolute heaven. Maybe the name wasn’t so silly after all. A sophisticated woody scent soon emerges, with just enough spicy sweetness to balance the dry heart of the cedar. The fragrance remained semi-prominent for only about five hours, slightly disappointing given the enormous price point, but this is a scent designed for intimacy, not screaming and shouting. It pounds on the door and arrives in an over-the-top party outfit, but then wants nothing more than to sit in a quiet corner and be worshipped by the few super-select deemed worthy.
In other words, it’s a scent after my own heart.
“What is most intimate is what will speak to others. Perfumers build the labyrinth in which we lose ourselves out of all those secret harmonies and connections. They bring out its beauty: reinvent it so that it can be felt by all.” – Denyse Beaulieu, ‘The Perfume Lover’
