When I used to buy a CD or vinyl record, I would listen to it intensely and with full enthusiasm as soon as I got home, the first and second time. And in my spontaneous assessment, I found that piece X was the best. I thought so even after the third and fourth listen. But then, around the tenth listen, I noticed that I also really liked song Y. Suddenly, piece Z was particularly great as well. The more I indulged in song Y, the better I found it. It went so far that it eventually replaced piece X in the number one spot. And after half a year, I wondered how I could have thought piece X was the best at the beginning, because now it seemed boring to me. Suddenly, song Y and a few others were much better than piece X.
Perhaps you know this too, and we probably all understand how this phenomenon arises: piece X is simply easier and more accessible, while song Y and Z initially seem more complex, only revealing their true beauty and complexity over time.
Long story short: Gilded Lily is a typical song Y for me.
I have just increased my rating of Gilded Lily to 8.0. And I wouldn’t rule out that this number might rise further over the next few months.
I liked Gilded Lily from the very beginning. And I also wrote a positive statement after the first tests. I even bought a bottle. And I wore the fragrance. I liked the floral transparency, which is both very unusual and yet has the typical characteristics of some Ineke scents, reminding me of real flowers in a vase with a hint of floral water. As if the blossoms were just about to tip into wilting.
Even though the scent of wilting is not exactly my perfume dream, a little bit of it does convey the impression that these are real flowers, alive, from the world of nature and not from the world of the lab. Of course, Ineke scents are also from the lab, but these particular ones don’t seem that way.
Interestingly, I find it very difficult to break down Gilded Lily by its components. I wouldn’t have guessed pineapple, rhubarb, or grapefruit.
Starting off slightly citrusy and bitter, which reminds me of the peel of a citrus fruit, Gilded Lily begins right away with an undertone of lily. Then I smell something grassy, green, just subtle, as if there were still grasses in the vase with the lush lilies, along with other flowers that smell sweet - mild, as sweet as natural scents, perhaps like phlox, not like sugar or maltol, nor like honey.
Already, the elemih resin makes its presence known, giving Gilded Lily its greenness as well as depth, spice, and minimal warmth. After a few minutes, the floral water note joins in. The bitterness of the citrus peels from the beginning remains, as does the slight freshness of grasses and the lily scent. Oakmoss, patchouli, and labdanum are only mildly present and blend into a soft unity that gently grounds the fragrance without losing the floral, slightly green, and somewhat sweet-bitter character. Over time, Gilded Lily changes only very slightly towards more spice and a bit more sweetness. Overall, this extraordinary floral arrangement in the vase lasts about 5 to 6 hours, although it becomes noticeably weaker in the last two hours.
Gilded Lily is definitely not a crowd-pleaser; it has too many characteristics known to turn people off fragrances, starting with the lily scent, the green undertone, and the slight bitterness to the hint of sweet, aging floral water.
Nevertheless, an incomparably fine and balanced fragrance experience unfolds: light and interesting. What I also find very pleasant is: If someone told me that Gilded Lily was made exclusively with one hundred percent natural essential oils, extracts, and resins, I would believe it immediately. Despite its slight quirkiness, Gilded Lily doesn’t have the underlying exhausting quality that often starts to get on my nerves with fragrances containing many synthetic ingredients after a while. With Gilded Lily, I can simply feel natural and relaxed without getting bored.
I didn’t wear Gilded Lily in winter; I preferred denser, heavier fragrances. Two or three weeks ago, I started using it more again in spring and considered dedicating a whole comment to this beautiful scent. Then I saw that I had rated it, obviously song Y, only 7.0. I had given Evening edged in Gold, my song X from the same brand, a 9.0.
That had to be adjusted!
Maybe I should play my Ineke fragrance record again and listen to song A, B, C... many more times. For some, this might also lead to a reassessment. But for others, it’s like with records and CDs: the pieces you don’t like won’t get better with repeated listening.