L’Entropiste by Bertrand Duchaufour: The Collection of Six Fragrances Reviewed

Written by Kristina Kybartaite-Damule

Early this year, a new perfume brand, L'Entropiste, was launched under the creative direction of celebrated perfumer Bertrand Duchaufour. I tested the collection of six perfumes, and here is what I think.

Mr. Duchaufour has been working in the fragrance industry for over 40 years. During that time, he has created close to 400 perfumes (at least, as far as we know). Among his best-known creations are perfumes like Café Tabac for Aedes de Venustas, Jubilation XXV Man for Amouage, Timbuktu for L'Artisan Parfumeur, and the entire collection for Neela Vermeire Creations—all carrying the slightly enigmatic signature of their author.

With L'Entropiste, Duchaufour is introduced as the "Master of Disorder", representing a kind of disorder that makes sense. The brand presents itself as “a tribute to the mystery of life, its evolution, the beauty of its transformations, its disorder, and its creations. It is a powerful concept—a deep philosophy about life, human evolution, and the author’s holographic vision,” as noted on its website.

L'Entropiste didn't enter the market modestly. Alongside the collection of six perfumes, the brand also introduced four scented candles.

As a fan of Duchaufour's work and the aura his perfumes create, I was very intrigued by the line. I ordered a discovery kit and dived in. While not all six perfumes were 10/10 for me, the first impression didn’t disappoint—you can clearly sense the familiar style of the perfumer, and the scents are well crafted. Each one shifts strongly on the skin, making every wear a true fragrant journey.

Below, I shortly review each of the six perfumes.

Dawn Whispers

An intriguing scent, unlike anything I’ve smelled before—evoking an unexpected duality. It opens sharp and cold, with a metallic and synthetic edge, yet it remains intriguingly fresh. As the perfume develops on the skin, it becomes slightly lactonic – not sour, but rather creamy. With this turn, the scent grows warmer and warmer, likely due to musk and a generous dose of amber. Supported by woody nuances, it eventually becomes powdery and gently sweet. It might take some getting used to, but in my view, once it clicks, it's a signature-worthy fragrance.

Dorian’s Spleen

One spray stops the show: a heavy, smoky, boozy, gourmandish blend kicks in the head. It feels as if I’m standing in a cloud of ashes while sipping a digestif cocktail. And I have a specific cocktail in mind, which I tasted not so long ago, made with whisky, coffee, dark chocolate, and caramel—the very notes listed in this perfume. The drink was heavy and bitter, and so is this scent. It leans more bitter than sweet (though a spicy, modest sweetness does emerge later), making it a head-turning take on gourmand perfumes. I’d call it a scent for grown-ups.

Blanc Sada

A dream for powdery perfume lovers—unapologetically so. It opens with a dusty, slightly greenish blast of iris, complemented by a delicate hint of violet. While iris alone tends to smell powdery, Blanc Sada also features rice powder and even cosmetic powder, and it feels so elegant. It smells just like a gentle kiss—sweet and intimate. This scent doesn’t change much on the skin, inviting you to simply relax and enjoy its soft, creamy caress. One of my favorites in the line.

Jodhpur 6AM

The fruitiest—and probably the most playful—scent in the collection. It opens with a strong note of sweet apricot, which is soon joined by energetic ginger, black tea, and cardamom, lending freshness after the initial burst. But as you think that the scent is getting calmer and even meditative, the second round of fruitiness emerges. Some tropical delights join in, and it starts feeling a little sour and a little messy on my skin, which puts me off. I can see how someone might enjoy this as a summer perfume, but for me, it’s my least favorite of the six.

Semence Douce

My first thought when I sprayed this was, “Oh, hello there, Ganymede,” referring to the popular scent by Marc-Antoine Barrois. I suspect it's the strong saffron note and the ozonic feeling in the opening that sparked the connection in my mind. But the similarity, if there is any, fades just as quickly as it appears, as green tulip scent enters the stage. It doesn't smell like a realistic tulip though—rather synthetic, with some rough and even scratchy edges. I don’t think synthetics are bad in perfumes—far from it—but in this case, it just doesn’t work on my skin. Even the almond milk note doesn’t soften it enough. An interesting composition, but a no from me.

Altamura

This was an instant yes for me. It opens with boozy, slightly medicinal amber: resinous, a bit sweet, and irresistibly seductive. There’s a hint of orange that, paired with bitters, subtly recalls an Aperol Spritz—just a playful detail in the background. The main act is a mesmerizing dance between warm, rich amber and frankincense, which works beautifully here. It’s dark and smoky, yet muted and doesn’t go to animalic direction. The balance is so perfect, it makes me think that his is exactly the kind of incense I’ve been dreaming of. Another favorite of mine in this collection.