By ๐ธ๐๐ ๐น๐ ๐๐๐๐ฃ๐
Several months after buying Memo Paris African Leather, I can safely say it falls well within masterpiece territory. Certainly not because of its name, though, which almost turned me away. I’ll get to that in the second half of this article.
This is the second of four fragrance reviews, the first one being Frederic Malle Promise. The next two reviews are Amouage Lyric Man and Amouage Interlude Black Iris Man.
๐๐ง ๐๐ฑ๐จ๐ญ๐ข๐ ๐๐ซ๐๐ ๐ซ๐๐ง๐๐ ๐ญ๐ก๐๐ญ ๐ซ๐๐ฆ๐ข๐ง๐๐ฌ ๐ฆ๐ ๐จ๐ ๐ก๐จ๐ฆ๐
Is African Leather great? Yes, it’s absolutely a phenomenal fragrance.
When I first reviewed it, I couldn’t detect any leather, just beautiful wafts of cardamom, cumin and other spices. This was not a disappointment; if anything, my appreciation has only deepened with time.
The perfumer, Alienor Massenet, was a familiar name even before I owned this fragrance. She has composed more than 160 perfumes, including Jazz Club by Maison Martin Margiela. I sampled Jazz Club last winter in Chicago, hoping to be captivated, but found it far too boozy for my taste. As in I felt I actually had booze on my hand where I sprayed Jazz Club. Not exactly what an observant Muslim wants.
Massenet has also created several strikingly unusual, very expensive scents for the ultra-niche house Floraiku. Her One Umbrella for Two, for example, features tea and rice among its middle notes. It’s one fragrance I’ve heard is amazing but I haven’t yet tried.
With African Leather, however, Massenet hit a home run with the bases fully loaded, and we’re all better off for it. This fragrance radiates an atmosphere that resonates deeply with me, and if anything, my respect for it grows with each wearing.
What makes it special is not the individual notes but the way they are composed and intertwined with such expertise.
๐๐ฒ ๐๐๐ฏ๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ๐ข๐ญ๐ ๐๐๐ซ๐๐๐ฆ๐จ๐ฆ ๐๐ซ๐๐ ๐ข๐ง ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ข๐ง๐๐ฌ๐ฌ
Cardamom, for instance, is by no means an uncommon note. It appears in everything from Parfums de Marly Layton to YSL La Nuit de l’Homme to Adidas Energy Drive. Yet in African Leather, the cardamom is presented with exceptional precision and authenticity.
While there are notes on which I may not have the expertise to comment, I know cardamom intimately.
It is an essential ingredient in South Asian cooking, a scent that defined my childhood. It reminds me of my mother’s Pakistani dishes, she used cardamom in everything from steaming hot rice to flavourful tea, to dry and wet curries. In such dishes, cardamom is never meant to be eaten; it’s added to food to elevate the aroma, and thank God for that, because without it many dishes would be far less enchanting.
In African Leather, the cardamom is photorealistic. It’s the most faithful and refined representation of that spice I’ve ever encountered in a fragrance. It takes me back to evenings in Illinois around the kitchen table with my parents and sister, eating dinner and talking about our day.
๐๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ข๐ง, ๐ ๐ฉ๐จ๐ฅ๐๐ซ๐ข๐ณ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ญ ๐๐ฌ๐ฌ๐๐ง๐ญ๐ข๐๐ฅ ๐๐ง๐ ๐ซ๐๐๐ข๐๐ง๐ญ
Cumin, another powerful defining note in African Leather, might be more polarizing, but I love it as well. Unlike cardamom, cumin isn’t officially listed on Fragrantica or Parfumo, though Basenotes includes it among the top notes. I definitely do smell the cumin, and it more than holds it's own.
Cumin is just as central to South Asian cooking as cardamom, perhaps even more so. Used whole or ground in thousands of dishes, cumin imparts a warm, earthy and slightly smoky flavour. In Pakistan, India and Bangladesh, it’s a staple. To me, its scent feels completely natural and familiar, though I understand why those unaccustomed to it might find it challenging in a fragrance.
Many reviewers describe cumin as reminiscent of body odour, but in African Leather it walks a careful tightrope, adding depth without overpowering the cardamom. Its smoky warmth lends the perfume gravity and richness.
Together, the cardamom and cumin create a subtly gourmand effect for someone like me who grew up surrounded by these spices. That said, you don’t need a South Asian background to appreciate this fragrance, just approach it with an open mind.
Maybe even visit a restaurant that uses such spices before trying the scent yourself. If you love the vibe and gorgeous aromas, you’ll likely adore African Leather
๐๐ก๐๐ง ๐ ๐ซ๐๐๐ญ ๐๐ซ๐ญ ๐ก๐๐ฌ ๐ ๐๐๐ ๐ง๐๐ฆ๐
So is it all good? Well …
I have to admit, the first time I saw Memo Paris African Leather, I was sceptical.
It had nothing to do with the fragrance itself, and everything to do with its name. Buckle up.
I’ll be honest. I may be in the minority among fragrance enthusiasts, but I dislike the name African Leather. At the risk of being dismissed or mocked, I’ll say it plainly. I believe in being transparent in my reviews because I learn not only about fragrance but also about myself and other people’s perspectives in the process.
I’m certain no harm was intended in naming it African Leather. It’s an outstanding creation, one I truly admire. But as someone who has actually lived in North Africa, in Morocco, the name feels, frankly, more than a little cringe.
๐๐ก๐ ๐ฉ๐ซ๐จ๐๐ฅ๐๐ฆ ๐จ๐ ๐ซ๐๐ฉ๐ซ๐๐ฌ๐๐ง๐ญ๐๐ญ๐ข๐จ๐ง
I lived in Morocco and studied Arabic there after earning my BA in Communications. At the time, I had no idea how many distinct cultures existed within Morocco, many of which are little known outside the region. But after my limited experience in that country, it became clear to me how much I had to learn about a part of the world that gets little love, a heavy dose of pity and a lot of ridicule.
Too often, Africa is still imagined as one vast, mysterious land filled with monkeys, tigers, call centre scams and dark-skinned, impoverished people. But actually, Africa is a continent, not a country, and it is vast, complex and extraordinarily diverse.
So, to name a fragrance African Leather doesn’t make much sense to me. It might sound to some of my readers like just a woke observation, but it’s really not if you think about it.
For most of us, we readily recognize that Europe, a far smaller continent, is multifaceted, and rightly so. We don’t confuse Greece with Iceland, or Germany with Spain. We understand that each has its own language, culture and identity. Yet when it comes to Africa, many people lump an entire continent of 54 nations and 1.5 billion people into one monolithic exotic idea, one supposedly defined by spices, mystery and primal sensuality.
That kind of over-generalization does a disservice to everyone.
If I were to ask even many well-educated people how Djibouti differs from Ghana, or Senegal from Rwanda, I’d likely get blank stares. Too few people realize that Africa is home to countless cultures, languages and histories, some stretching back tens of thousands of years. Anthropologists even identify it as the birthplace of humanity itself.
Why is it that so many in the West know almost nothing about Africa? It’s bizarre. The continent is so massive that you can fit the United States, Europe, and China inside it, and still have plenty of space left over.
๐๐ก๐ ๐ข๐ซ๐จ๐ง๐ฒ ๐จ๐ ๐ ๐ฆ๐๐ฌ๐ญ๐๐ซ๐ฉ๐ข๐๐๐
So what does all this have to do with African Leather? Simply put, naming a perfume after an entire continent feels misguided.
None of Memo Paris’s other scents are named after continents. Within the brand’s lineup, you’ll find Irish Leather, French Leather, Russian Leather, and, interestingly enough, Moroccan Leather, even though as I explained, Morocco is part of Africa.
There is no North American Leather, however there is an Oriental Leather, which I find nearly as uncomfortable as African Leather, a little bit less perhaps because general awareness of countries in the Asia-Pacific Rim is somewhat greater.
๐๐๐ฌ๐ฉ๐๐๐ญ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐๐จ๐ฆ๐ฉ๐ฅ๐๐ฑ๐ข๐ญ๐ฒ ๐ข๐ง ๐๐ซ๐ญ ๐๐ง๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ฅ๐ญ๐ฎ๐ซ๐
Memo Paris African Leather is, without question, a masterpiece of modern perfumery. The craftsmanship, balance and emotional power of its composition make it one of the finest spice-based fragrances I’ve ever experienced. It is warm, sophisticated, outspoken and transportive, which is everything great art should be. Yet the brilliance of the perfume only heightens the irony that its name is too simplistic.
A fragrance that achieves such depth and complexity deserves a title that reflects the same respect for nuance that Alienor Massenet brought to its composition.
African Leather may not have the perfect name, but the scent itself comes remarkably close to perfection. Get it if you can, enjoy it and use it as inspiration to begin learning about a part of the world that 1.5 billion people call home.