Wild Lavender

Inglese

Lorenzo Villoresi 1996

For those who like lavender, and there are likely many due to its popular and useful scent, Lorenzo Villoresi has a remarkable treat in store.

This fragrance is all about lavender, and you truly get a hefty dose of it. At first, it's so overwhelming that you might wonder if you've sprayed pure essential oil on yourself.

However, gradually the lemon makes its presence known, adding a rich, candy-like accent, while the bergamot exudes that typical Earl Grey charm. Accompanying this are a few nice herbal companions, but they play more of a supporting role, like the third, fourth, or fifth violin.

Coriander gives "Wild Lavender" a slightly clean-soapy feel, rosemary adds a lively touch, and iris skillfully contributes a fine-powdery counterpoint. As it dries down, a hint of tonka bean emerges, though it remains quite restrained.

All of this smells wonderfully reminiscent of English traditions - fresh, well-groomed, and gentlemanly with a touch of understatement, just shy of a medicinal treatment.

However, I must admit that I didn't find much to appreciate in Wild Lavender during my first encounter, but during the second testing, I noticed the fine nuances, particularly of lemon, coriander, and rosemary, much more. This makes Wild Lavender a scent that probably needs another chance to avoid being dismissed as a coarse floral juice.

The name "Wild Lavender" is truly well-deserved! Since I have recently found myself in sugary waters and honey glazes with women's lavender scents (Mon Guerlain and Lavande Trianon), I decided to venture a bit on the men's side. And wow, Wild Lavender actually shows a completely different side that I didn't even know lavender had. It could just as well be called "Herbes des Provence capturé dans une forêt noire" or something like that. Forgive my school French stammering, but I wanted to do justice to the quality of the scent and not just call it "Herb bouquet forgotten in the dark forest" or something similar. One thing you can't accuse Wild Lavender of is being subtle; you are warned, and if you still bring your nose too quickly and eagerly to the scent source, that's your own fault. Then you get hit hard with lavender, rosemary, thyme, oregano, and sage (and seemingly everything the spice rack has to offer). The lavender is almost piercingly medicinal. Over time, the wild beast becomes a bit tamer, it gets a little vanillic (WHAT: You too??), but at the same time also woody/balsamic.
Hhmmmm - well, I don't know: I don't perceive "Lavender Beast," uh sorry, "Wild Lavender" as a lavender scent - more like a nature boy's territory marking liquid. But why am I complaining here? I wanted a contrast to sweet tutu lavender scents, and I got that 100 percent!

Lavender is one of the most classic & finest fragrance materials on the planet, and it's no wonder that the French lavender fields are immortalized in legend. The flower comes to your nose in all forms, colors & qualities - from the most exquisite versions to the cheapest synthetic muck. Few fragrance materials have such a qualitative range. To find out what quality the lavender in "Wild Lavender" is, you first have to get past a lot of underbrush. Only to ultimately arrive at the realization that the brand name could have told you beforehand: a very beautiful & pure lavender. As expected from Lorenzo Villoresi.

The fragrance is called "Wild" for a reason, as the lavender here has been given some distinctly herbaceous-green edges. It's not so easy, as lavender usually strikes me as calming & gentle. Here, it is countered by a forest-&-meadow attitude that would suit Aragorn from the Lord of the Rings trilogy well. A powdery (iris?) lavender forms the core, but the surroundings are quite lively. At the very beginning, the masculine bergamot can still be well cushioned, but as soon as an oily sage & an aggressive rosemary make their appearance, our olfactory focus can only be on them. The creamy-sharp ginger briefly carries the citrus notes further, after which the lavender becomes greener than Cem Özdemir. As if a lavender field has taken root in the dark forest. Due to its ethereal qualities, the fragrance often has a sauna-like (?) effect & reminds one of pine forests. Peppery musk pleasantly rounds off the overall package & serves as a binding agent. Herbs from German forests meet lavender from French fields - masculine finesse!

Bottle: I would have made it more purple.
Sillage: aggressive in the first half, at least for a lavender.
Longevity: herbaceous 6 hours.

Conclusion: I like this raucous lavender - but it doesn't completely blow you away. Very solid fare, as is often the case with LV.

Actually, I had everything prepared for a gigantic Lorenzo Villoresi test series. Three samples, three comments, so was the bold plan. However, after "Sandalo" burst in my pocket and "Uomo" rolled irretrievably under the bed, only one remains for now, and I believe it's the most beautiful! :)
That "Inglese" was renamed "Wild Lavender" a few years ago, I can understand, at least for a few minutes. The lavender bursts forth powerfully into the light after the sprayer is activated. With a truly quite unbridled and rough naturalness, powerful and herbal. Undeniably, it is the main character, perkily fizzing with ginger and citrus accents, underpinned by a feather-light sage. I also notice a kind of cooling effect, which leads me to guess mint. There’s also a nuance that I would describe as mineral playing along. In any case, this vital opening chord is worth all honors and clears the mind and nose, so it’s not a sleep-inducing lavender. :)
The transition follows immediately. The herb quickly loses its presence, a soft, initially somewhat dull new phase sets in. Much of what was there before is still present, but suddenly it is noticeably toned down. The herb becomes tame at first, then it disappears. Unexpectedly, but very beautifully. Everything that was strong vanishes before it becomes overwhelming. The dense, carrying musk comes to the fore, complemented by the noticeable sage and a small, mildly prickly rosemary. The lavender harmoniously joins in, becoming a bit limp, but pretty and delicate. All together, it creates a whispered, soft veil that appears clean and somewhat orangey. Very elegant, cozy, and only contestable because one didn't expect it. At the latest after an hour, one realizes that one should have applied more, the longevity is somewhat meager. With a lot of style, the fragrance fades away quietly.

First impression upon spraying: a citrusy lavender. However, the lemon or bergamot quickly bids farewell within a minute, but the lavender does not remain pure either.

Suddenly, a very pleasant yet exceedingly complex note of freshly washed laundry emerges, within which the lavender is initially harmoniously embedded, but will later completely disappear. I smell a musk-based jumble here. Very little spices and perhaps some cedarwood may be involved, slightly influencing the musk-lavender note. But far too little to actually change the character of this fragrance towards woody-spicy. Fortunately, vanilla is absent, which is commonly found in so many lavender scents.

The fresh laundry scent somewhat reminds me of the style of Mark Buxton and his masterful compositions Comme des Garçons 2 and English Breakfast. I believe that our perception of lavender scent today is indeed shaped by advertising for fabric softeners; and Lorenzo Villoresi accounts for that. It’s quite strange that expensive perfumes connect to cheap everyday scents. In this case, it works well because Wild Lavender is anything but a cheap everyday scent.

The longevity on the skin is rather moderate. Overall, though, everything is very elegant and subtle.

Wild Lavender for the day - Acca Kappa’s Cedro for the evening and a few Brioni suits in the closet - what more does one need?