Virēre Aēsop 2024

I wanted to love this one so bad. I am always on the lookout for a fragrance that captures the smell of dry hay and dewy, wild growing grass in the morning, and had high hopes this could be the one to finally do it. The dry grassiness/hay notes are present, but there is a sharp mix of pine, pepper, and cedar that overpowers that gentler grassy scent and reminds me of Axe body wash more than anything else. While not unpleasant, it feels quintessentially “teenage boy” in a way that I can’t get past.

Tried this in store and truly believed I had found my signature scent as Mate Tea and Fig are some of my favourite notes. I later went out for dinner and simply could not stop sniffing my wrist, alongside my girlfriend who really enjoyed it as well. I immediately ordered a full bottle online (at a discount) that same night.

One aspect I appreciate from Aesop fragances is that they're strong without being invasive, but after consistently wearing Virere for weeks now, I came to the realization that this is simply soooo so weak. And I mean considerably weaker than the tester I had tried in store.

I usually enjoy subtle fragrances, but this stuff is literally non-existent unless you're sniffing the persons neck. It's the only fragrance I overspray, and even then, it's barely noticeable past the first hour of application.

Oh my lordy lord, is it the best thing I have ever smelt. I understand that the promo for this fragrance was being in the Mediterranean on the beach or whatever bull shit but it is more like walking through a fig tree forest while sipping green tea. It is awesome, do not blind buy it though. I need 300 characters for whatever fucking reason so I'll talk about my day. Woke up at 9am, took a shit, ate some breakfast and had sex with a hot woman.

Tried Tacit, Above Us, Hwyl and this perfume on strips in store and liked this one the best: it's the most freshly green and least bitter of them all, but still brings in the strong resinous woody body that the house is known for. I find some similarities between the solemnity of this arboreal drydown and Hywl's no-nonsense Hinoki opening.

On skin, it ripens into an earthy and herbal infusion of dried tea leaf and powdered resin -- if there is any fig there, my skin may have eaten it. In fact, I would say the lack of immediate sweetness is the fragrance's hallmark. Peppery mastic provides a bit of a lift and kick, but this perfume, aside from a stringent citrus note in opening, seem to exude the weighted seriousness of firm, sun-baked ground -- it gets you rather up close and personal with the weight of the dry soil and the lone tree dotted with hardened sap, and bitter, oversteeped thermos brews. I liked it better on paper than on myself, as the fruitiness brings some much needed levity to this strident salt-of-the-earth complexity.

3.5 hours later and it's only a vague whisper of tea and woods, generically spa against my wrist.

As a user of Aesop body care products, I find in this fragrance the same natural, minimal, more conceptual than eccentric style of the brand. What's written in the pyramid is mostly found one note at a time: petitgrain, green tea (dried, not green leaves), yerba maté, and hay are all there, just a little, but all of them. Clearly, it's nothing to tear your hair out over, but if you're looking for the same sensation as using an Aesop hand cream or shampoo—that is, a refined naturalness—this is the right place.