Frangipani
Jasmine
Orange blossom
Tiaré
Ylang-ylang
05/23/2025
ClaireV
731 Reviews
ClaireV
1
Stunning cold cream floral but a little 1980s in the drydown
Opening with a green, stemmy plant milk note that feels fridge-cold to the touch, I am reminded of the scent of a Casablanca lily right before the spice hits your nose, a smell full of pollen, camphor, and buttery body cream, the kind that sets you back $90 in the airport duty free (the price point, by the way, at which ‘cream’ turns into ‘crème’). This accord tilts quickly forward into armfuls of fresh white jasmine, backed by a sweet nutty powder.
It takes me a while to spot the ylang. This is a sunny, slightly syrupy ylang, with zero petroleum or grapey highnotes. The sharp, insistent (slightly sour, perfumey) edge I associate with ylang is entirely absent. Instead, this is a floral sigh, held aloft by entirely by green notes and a dollop of Pond’s cold cream. This sort of green, joyous (yet also buttery or milky) botanical aroma always grabs me and shakes my heart into my throat. Ostara and Amaranthine (both Penhaligon’s) do something similar, though there is also something gently cosmetic (face cream, powder, lotion) that reminds me of Chanel No. 22 (minus the aldehydic sparkle).
Every single note exploration I undertake uncovers a heretofore ignored treasure that I would crawl over hot coals to get my hands on, and for a while, I think that Ylang Ylang is that for me. However, in the far drydown, the latent development of a spicy, resinous yellow floral accord gives me that 1980s floriental taste at the back of my mouth and I press pause on the tape. Still beautiful, yes, but now there is a reservation. Something suffocating and insistent and intense in its far reaches, like Amarige sprayed on soap powder packed into small wooden box and quickly closed up. I will have to think about it more.
It takes me a while to spot the ylang. This is a sunny, slightly syrupy ylang, with zero petroleum or grapey highnotes. The sharp, insistent (slightly sour, perfumey) edge I associate with ylang is entirely absent. Instead, this is a floral sigh, held aloft by entirely by green notes and a dollop of Pond’s cold cream. This sort of green, joyous (yet also buttery or milky) botanical aroma always grabs me and shakes my heart into my throat. Ostara and Amaranthine (both Penhaligon’s) do something similar, though there is also something gently cosmetic (face cream, powder, lotion) that reminds me of Chanel No. 22 (minus the aldehydic sparkle).
Every single note exploration I undertake uncovers a heretofore ignored treasure that I would crawl over hot coals to get my hands on, and for a while, I think that Ylang Ylang is that for me. However, in the far drydown, the latent development of a spicy, resinous yellow floral accord gives me that 1980s floriental taste at the back of my mouth and I press pause on the tape. Still beautiful, yes, but now there is a reservation. Something suffocating and insistent and intense in its far reaches, like Amarige sprayed on soap powder packed into small wooden box and quickly closed up. I will have to think about it more.
