Fig Aftelier

First of all: I do not wish to spark a discussion about natural vs. synthetic fragrance ingredients with my comment. Everyone should find their own bliss, and no one should be converted to one camp or the other. However, I have recently noticed that a synthetic fragrance appearance is often judged per se as something bad or even inferior between the lines. Such statements are not always understandable to me, especially when the concept does not aim for naturalness. Moreover, I have encountered natural fragrances that had a synthetic quality to them.

Fig exemplifies for me why I have difficulties with so-called natural perfumery, as it shows the (prejudice?) typical characteristics that usually bother me in this fragrance segment, which I will call.

Well, one could argue why I keep testing and even rating fragrances from this segment. On one hand, I am naturally curious due to my hobby, and on the other hand, I always want to form my own impression of a fragrance. Additionally, I have liked some natural fragrances, but comparatively, only very few.

I want to start with the name. Fig or in German, Feige. Unfortunately, this scent impression cannot be conveyed to me by Ms. Aftel at any time. The mixture of fragrance ingredients does not reflect the leaf, the fruit, or the wood of the named plant for my nose.

What does Fig smell like to me? A relatively carcass-like, slightly narcotic jasmine note is dominant. This is underlined by a note that I would describe as a mixture of rheumatism ointment, furniture polish, and hippie boutique (I will avoid the word musty), which then evokes associations with aromatherapy for me.
I cannot recognize a (for me not so important) scent progression. Sometimes (as in this case), some natural fragrances do not seem professionally composed to me, but that is my amateur hobby perspective on the composition, and I do not wish to offend anyone who likes these fragrances.

The longevity is not bad for a natural perfume. I can perceive the "scent" for six hours. The projection decreases very quickly and settles at skin cream level. This prevents me from finding the fragrance overwhelming.

Applied to clothing (I generally wear fragrances on my clothes), the carcass-like touch unfortunately becomes more pronounced, and I had the impression of smelling like a repeatedly worn shirt.
Finally, I would like to address whether natural fragrances should or even can be compared with "conventional" perfumery?

For my part, I find this question difficult to answer. Conventional perfumery naturally has more possibilities, and personal taste is very hard to set aside with such a sensorial product as perfume.

In the end, I do not care whether a composition is natural, semi-synthetic, or fully synthetic, as long as the concept seems coherent to me, which is currently often not the case with many natural perfumes.