Evernia Ormonde Jayne 2021 Eau de Parfum

First a brief note: Evernia means oakmoss.
Oakmoss is known to the Latin scholar as Evernia prunastri. It is a lichen that grows in forests and on trees. This oakmoss has an incredibly characteristic scent that is described as earthy, mossy, woody, and slightly animalic. Oakmoss is often perceived as fresh, green, and calming, and - to put it visually - it reminds one of a forest walk after a rain shower.

However, Evernia contains no oakmoss at all.

In the past, to extract the scent of oakmoss for perfumes, the extraction technique of enfleurage was used - as is often the case. Real lichens were soaked in a solvent like alcohol or oil to extract their aromatic compounds. After a certain period, the solvent was separated and distilled - yielding concentrated oakmoss extract.

Nowadays, due to regulations and restrictions related to allergens in perfumes, only synthetic alternatives to natural oakmoss are used. These synthetic molecules reproduce the scent of natural oakmoss - when done well - very accurately and continue to allow for the creation of complex and multifaceted oakmoss fragrances.

However, since it is not entirely easy to make synthetic oakmoss appear natural when it is so prominently featured, oakmoss has increasingly become a companion to fragrance notes and is less frequently the protagonist, the main actor from top to heart note.

Thanks to Linda Pilkington and her handcrafted scents of the highest quality, we thankfully do not have to worry about our olfactory impression of oakmoss, but can trust Ormonde Jayne here almost blindly.

So...
...oakmoss, oh oakmoss, let's begin with the description.

When autumn arrives and the leaves fall, the forest awakens to a magical place full of secrets and ephemeral beauty.
While one might have preferred casual linen shirts and delicate citrus scents in the heat of the sun, temperature and nature now change so quickly and drastically that one develops entirely different needs than to smell of lemon, tea, and fresh waters.
On a now cooler but bright autumn day, one enjoys walking through the dense forest. The ferns flutter in the wind as the last rays of sunshine fall through the golden leaves. One enjoys the silence and the soothing sounds of nature. A gentle rustling. A majestic tree towering mightily from the thicket.
All of this is suddenly perceived again, after the dominating heat of the sunny summer.

The deep connection with nature and the forest is olfactorily as pronounced in autumn as in hardly any other season.
Of course, one loves the fresh grass of spring, the sunscreen associations of hot days, and the crackling snow and the Christmas warmth of wintertime.
Autumn, however, seems to be able to harmonize nature and scent in almost a magical way, that one believes one can smell with the naked nose whether the leaves are already falling, still colorful, whether it is September, October, or even November.

I, for one, love autumn.

I then uncompromisingly wear a classic Barbour jacket and cannot help but occasionally dress in a way that I could well belong to the English country gentry.
When the time comes, precisely when the leaves slowly fall from the trees and the air becomes cooler, it is time for Evernia.

This scent is a perfume incarnate walk through the autumnal forest, surrounded by moss, oakmoss, and fresh air.
The incredibly elegant composition of Evernia also perfectly matches classic attire.

That is exactly what Evernia is for me: The scent for classic attire in autumn.

In the opening, there is light pepper with cardamom. Even though oakmoss is not listed in the top note, it is fully present from the very beginning.
One should not expect too much fresh citrus from the bergamot; it is extremely restrained and frames, just like the blackcurrant, only subtly.
I do not even smell the blackcurrant as a berry, but rather the late-summer blackcurrant bush as a fragrant thicket.

The base note, in my opinion, only lends the scent a certain delicacy, softness, and gentleness, but is quite interchangeable in terms of the individual fragrance notes.

The heart note, however, is overwhelmingly oakmossy, paired with warm woody notes that subtly remind one of cozy hours by the fireplace in an old English manor house.

Opoponax as sweet myrrh I would have rather identified as incense.
The church pew association that one sometimes reads cannot be entirely denied.

In contrast to "Ormonde Man (Eau de Parfum) | Ormonde Jayne," we do not have here the macho-masculine broadside of the hemlock spruce, which is so oud-infused that the tree could well have become rotten. Evernia also completely dispenses with the coriander that accompanies Ormonde Man Eau de Parfum throughout and which does not enjoy universal popularity.
Do not get me wrong, I love "Ormonde Man (Eau de Parfum) | Ormonde Jayne," but it is a loving compilation of masculine notes and not a coherent picture of a situation, as Evernia is.

But let's leave the individual notes as individual notes and return to the feeling.
When I wear the scent, I feel like a character from a Jane Austen novel, like a character from Atonement, or for that matter from Downton Abbey or The Crown.
English, elegant, and timeless.

Wrapped in my Barbour jacket, with Evernia on my skin, I feel like a part of the English country gentry - stylish and full of elegance.
This scent is for me more than just a perfume; it is an experience that reflects my love for autumn and British culture.
It is a situation.
It is a season.
It is autumn.
It is the forest.
It is oakmoss in perfection.