Thé Noir 29 from Le Labo composed by Frank Voelkl (using more than 29 ingredients) in 2015 does not resemble black tea, despite the inclusion of a tea extract but it more than compensates by being a very striking fragrance with a clear, unique signature.
From a distance, it is a bizarrely sour, fruity rose, with a patchouli tinge. This is explained by a large proportion of phenyl ethyl alcohol and a sublime rose oil replacer produced by Firmenich for over 80 years and counting called Wardia, though it has applications outside of rose accords. Such versatility is the mark of a truly good base. The fruitiness of rose is further boosted by damascenone and Helvetolide, a musk with top note impact that has a unique pear facet. Finally the sense of sourness is explained by the inclusion of a very potent and tenacious material, rarely used: ethyl safranate. Not resembling saffron at all, it leans more towards spices and apple cider.
Unfortunately, one of the releases of Lalique from last year dubbed Encre Indigo seems to pay more than an homage to this fragrance. Here the tea aspect is more literal, or in the manner of Ellena: bergamot paired with ionone beta. We also have a reproduction of the same sour rose, with Helvetolide in combination with ethyl safranate and damascenone, but not quite as direct, omitting the phenyl ethyl alcohol and rose base. The saffron has been pushed with safranal, which again does not smell of saffron and is rather harsh, but consumers have been educated to translate it to ‘saffron.’ Both Thé Noir and Encre Indigo also choose to spice up the rose with bay rum oil, which contributes to the rather signature feel.
There is an equally present woody fond, with the use of patchouli, as well as cypriol and vetiver. Here more money has been spent on ambrox (consistent with the masculine market nowadays) and there is a slightly more sensual nitro musk aspect. The top notes of the two fragrances do differ considerably, but the structure and signature is largely equivalent, even with the exclusion of the often character changing material, phenyl ethyl alcohol.
This is where we would debate the fine line between a twist on a fragrance and a copy. An example of the former would be Fahrenheit versus its predecessor Grey Flannel - I don’t think being a ‘twist’ necessitates an improvement but at least a change of direction with a nod to the original. Is Encre Indigo a twist or is it a copy?