This is exactly the type of fragrance that keeps me interested in smaller independent artisan houses. The Forbidden City isn’t trying to smell like everything else out there. Right from the opening I get this really interesting combination of apricot, jasmine tea and darker black tea, but what really makes this work for me is the incense running underneath everything. The apricot gives it just enough fruitiness without turning it sweet or juvenile. Then the tea comes through dry and aromatic, while the incense, myrrh and woods start giving it this almost meditative feel. There is some darkness here, but it never becomes heavy. The woods smooth everything out as it dries down. And anyone who knows me knows that incense speaks to me, so naturally this part of the fragrance is right in my wheelhouse. What I really appreciate is that this smells like somebody actually had an idea and followed it through rather than looking at what is selling and trying to make another version of it. It’s unusual without becoming difficult to wear. This is also another reminder of why I’ve been digging deeper into these smaller perfumer-led houses. With a collection as large as mine, I don’t need another fragrance that smells like five things I already own. Give me something with personality. The Forbidden City definitely has that. Apricot. Tea. Jasmine. Incense. Woods. Different—and different is exactly what I’m looking for these days. One thing that can get a little confusing is the name. If you’re looking for The Forbidden City today, you may see it listed as The Forbidden Temple. Same fragrance, different name—so don’t let that throw you off.

Le Labo is one of those houses that can easily be dismissed as overpriced, minimalist, and overly trendy. I understand that argument, especially when you consider the simple bottles, the clinical presentation, and the prices. However, once I spent more time with the fragrances, I realized there is much more going on here than the label and the hype. The fragrances are generally not loud or designed to announce your arrival. Le Labo focuses more on atmosphere, texture, and the way a fragrance develops around the wearer. Some people may interpret that as weak or boring, but I see it as intentional restraint. These are fragrances that become part of your personal space rather than taking over the entire room. I currently own Gaiac 10, Another 13, Bergamote 22, Santal 33, Rose 31, Thé Matcha 26, and Thé Noir 29. That gives me enough range to understand what the house does well. Gaiac 10 is probably the best representation of the quieter side of Le Labo. It is woody, musky, slightly smoky, and extremely understated. This is not something I wear when I want attention. I wear it when I want something clean, calming, and personal. Another 13 is built around that clean, musky, almost skin-like effect. It can seem simple at first, but it creates an unusual scent bubble and changes depending on the wearer. It is also one of those fragrances that other people may notice when you have almost stopped smelling it yourself. Bergamote 22 is one of the brighter and more immediately likable fragrances from the house. It gives me citrus, greenery, and clean woods without smelling like a typical fresh designer fragrance. This is one of the easiest Le Labos for me to wear in the Arizona heat. Santal 33 has become so popular that the fragrance almost gets punished for its own success. Yes, it has been copied repeatedly, and yes, some people get a pickle-like quality from it. I still respect what it accomplished. Its dry sandalwood, leather, and spicy character helped define an entire modern fragrance style.