Un Jardin sous la Mer Hermès 2026

I've been waiting for MONTHS now for this fragrance because the Jardins is my favorite collection and releases a new scent every three years when Ellena was at the command of Hermès, and every four years since Nagel took over. I was afraid of being disappointed as I reserved the last spot in my perfume collection for this Jardin, but I'm pleasantly surprised. I've only tested it twice so far, so take my opinion with tweezers, but I already like it a lot.

I read a lot of articles in the last two weeks, mainly Christine Nagel's interview with Vogue. I tried to imagine the scent and I was expecting something really marine but not marine in the classic mainstream men-freshie-marine-fragrance sense, more in the fishy-market way or something like that, so I was a little bit afraid of what it would be like, especially since Nagel has much more "grain" than Ellena in her work, she likes to create more textured smells than him, and some kind of synthetic-modern ideas (but I love her work too, she's one of my favorite nose).

Anyway, I tested the Jardin under the sea on paper and on my skin, and it was a pleasant and really nice surprise.
In my mind, it's a cousin (but not too close, maybe a second, third, or even fourth cousin) of Wood Sage & Sea Salt (for the salty, iodine-rich air, sea breeze aspect), as well as Un Air de Bretagne by L'Artisan Parfumeur (for the seaweed, kelp, sandy beaches on the edge of a northern sea with a cold sea breeze, in Bretagne or on the Irish/Scottish coasts) and Vétiver d'Hiver by Armani Privé (not sure why, but it does remind me of that refreshing cold sensation of it). But the whole thing is made much more sunny and "paradise island" with the tiare flower (which I personally love, but it's a note that is apparently difficult to like, from what I can see when reading reviews of certain perfumes that contain a note of tiare).

As for the tamanu nut note (which is supposed to be a mix between coconut and walnut in terms of smell from what I found online), I was afraid it would smell too nutty, but in the end it didn't at all. I have trouble distinguishing the note because I'm not familiar with it, but nothing in the fragrance shocks me, so I've deduced that this note is a good one lol.
And FYI: for anyone who has the same problem as me with fruity-sweet/coconut/milky notes, which change on my skin and smell less like coconut or peach and more like burnt synthetic plastic, there's no problem here. My skin makes C14 and C18 aldehydes/gamma-undecalactones (used in perfumery to create peach or coconut notes) turn, but here nothing turns into synthetic moldy plasticky mess; it stays natural, just like on the test strip, so yeay, good news !

The only difference I notice on my skin compared to the test strip is that my skin brings out a very salty aspect of the fragrance that is not very noticeable on the test strip, but this is not a problem; on the contrary, I find that it makes the fragrance even more appealing. (Then again, I'm a fan of salty notes in general, so my opinion is biased), but this is a fragrance that absolutely must be tested on the skin because I find that the scent is really more beautiful that way.

The opening of this fragrance is really beautiful, it's extremely fresh, much more than I expected before testing it, quite floral, and ultra-luminous. It's really an ideal fragrance for summer (to the point where I can't imagine wearing it in winter). I don't think tiare is the only flower used, but everything is well balanced.

I kept the scent strip, and it's been in my apartment for 48 hours now. I've smelled it 3-4 times since I came home from the store on Monday when the fragrance was released, and the very fresh, floral, and luminous opening has transformed into something very similar (I'd say a first cousin now) to Air de Bretagne by L'Artisan Parfumeur. It's very salty, quite seaweed-like, but not dirty, and absolutely not fishy. Fortunately, it doesn't smell like a fish market, it just smells like the seaside with seaweed, but in the form of a pleasant fragrance, and I'm a fan of that. It's quite interesting how the development of this fragrance resembles a journey from Tahiti to Bretagne or Scotland. We are along the coast or the ocean the whole time, but we go from the ocean of a paradise island where you stay in shorts all day in the opening of the fragrance, to the ocean of a cold and windy place where you almost need to wear a sweater when you go to the beach.
If you like the iodine smell of the sea when you go to the beach, I think you will love the closing of this perfume :)

Anyway, all this blabla to say:
It is certainly the most "bizarre" fragrance in the garden collection from Hermès (it's not a bizarre one, just the *most* bizarre), but that's what makes it all the more interesting. It's different, quite unique, adding something intriguing to the collection without being redundant (because I was afraid of a salty and woody white flower redundancy from the Jardin sur la Lagune).
It doesn't break three legs to a duck (no idea how to translate that in English), and does not reinvent the wheel, but it's very intersting, it's almost experimental, you could say ?
I think it will possibly be the most polarizing fragrance in the Jardin collection and it would not suprise me if the rating isn't the highest in the following months : either you love the almost bizarre side of this fragrance, or you hate it.
Personally, I will definitely be adding it to my collection as soon as I have the opportunity to buy it, and I advise everyone reading this to go and test it, on a strip and on your skin, if only for your general olfactory culture, or just to try something different !

And last thing before I head out : I try to find a music to match every perfume I have in my collection based on vibes, kind of a perfume-music synesthesia, and for this new Jardin, the closest match I can find is Music to Watch Boys To by Lana.

Well, update 2-3 weeks later : I was sadly right, people really do not seem to like it based on the reviews. On my side, I received my bottle and it's even more beautiful on skin at home without all the mixed perfumes smell in the air of the store. I do not regret getting a bottle at all, and I am extremely meticulous about the perfumes I allow into my collection, they must be perfect for me.
If, and I really hope not, but IF they discontinue it in the following years, I'll buy some refill bottles before it disappears from the market, it's worth it.

Christine Nagel has long been hit or miss for me. Her hits seem to be where she shows restraint. Brilliant creations like the early work of her career, Theorema, Mauboussin's Histoire d'Eau, and later on with Galop and Cedre Sambac for Hermes, reveal a poise to her compositional approach. Even ELDO's Archives 69 is a peculiar gem. Then, there are her misses: unfocused, messy, overloaded attempts at complexity that while fascinating in theory, collapse in execution. Her latest for the Hermes Un Jardmin series is unfortunately a major miss for me. The attempt to encapsulate the sea in Sous la Mer feels ham-fisted, and sadly reminds me of a public pool from my childhood that had questionable sanitation standards.

Chlorinated and sour, it has a heavy "breath," so to speak, heaving out sharp citrus and oddly sterile aquatic materials onto what seems a heavy-handed dose of indole. There is even this oddly stale, waxy, fattiness, perhaps intended to evoke tiare flower, growing into something resembling a rancid oil that's been left in the pantry far past expiration date. It grows more offensive as it dries down, giving me the impression of an industrial antiseptic used on a gas-station bathroom...by the sea. Maybe Salisbury beach. My New England locals will know. Now don't get me wrong, I can really appreciate an odd slight evoking of pink restroom soap, urinal cakes, or functional products in a perfume—but no, not this. This reminds me of the stuff I detest.

A real letdown.

Bizarre, unlike anything else. Already that is a point in my book; we have enough of the same from designers, but Nagel continues to press for innovation and art.

I would describe this as starchy, silky, and organic.

It has a warm milky nuttiness with a sweetish-salty funk to it.

It’s like the flesh of an exotic coconut-like fruit, lactonic but fibrous and bitter, with a weird stringiness like cotton or linen that has been soaking in that same milk.

For some reason it reminds me of the inside of Azura’s Star in Skyrim. Cold, mystical, blue, white, ghostly, and a bit ominous, like a cursed or alien beach. It’s weird and slightly off-putting, but I’ll need more time with this.

It smells basic, in the chemical sense. Not salty or sharp like a coast, but like chalk or something similar (not being chemically accurate here, just conceptual).

On the other hand, it has a funky, sour, sweatiness that only Toskovat or Zoologist could produce—something weird and wonderful, but also grim. It’s stale, like that exotic nutty milk went rancid and was cleaned with alkaline chalk. Reminds you of the scum in a dirty beach, only oddly clinical. Bounces between intriguing and nauseating, but I’m not sure what wins in the end.

I don’t know about this one.

It’s very particular and needs more time. For now, I like it as an experience, but not a scent cloud that follows.

What a particular fragrance, this has got to be the one of the most unique designer fragrances I've ever smelled.

It opens with just this raw minerality, like you were smelling the stones at a mineral expo from way too close. However these rocks are cool to the touch, they're not damp nor earthy, they're cold and sterile and have an aquatic dryness to them. Similar to how white wines can be described as "dry"

As is settles it looses a bit of it's edge, becoming this cold water with a flower floating on top smell. It's almost reminiscent of a calcium effervescent tablet. Odd but oh so delightful and wearable.

If Hermès were to market this as a niche "Mermaid's grove" or "Sunken flowers" it would sell. It almost shocks me that this is being sold as a designer scent, this is niche smelling with a designer price tag.

I have to compliment Hermès for showcasing how they're the most underrated house in the designer space, having basically no hype whatsoever and pumping out amazing creations.

Today I was strolling through the shopping mall and ended up in my perfume store. My favorite saleswoman winks at me: I have something for you, but you need to experience it directly on your skin. Why not? She sprays a generous amount on my wrist and Boom... The top note nearly knocks me off my feet. I smell salt, seaweed, seashells, and something herbal. It's almost too much for me, too strong and too unexpected. I wave my arm wildly and dare to take another deep breath. And suddenly I'm there, at that beach in Pineda de Salou. I'm lying on my back, floating close to the shore in the water. Weightless. I smell the sea, the salt, and the seaweed that lies in clumps on the beach. Then the wind brings the scent of flowers, warm skin, and the rocks warmed by the sun from the shore. I take a deep breath and want this moment to never end. Even hours later, I can still smell this special blend of warmth, freshness, softness, and spiciness. This is not a fragrance that seeks to please or is interchangeable. It is truly extraordinary and certainly polarizing. This scent will be loved or not. I find it beautiful.