32
Top Review
Multifaceted Idyll
After the flight through fragrant darkness, we now arrive at the olfactory idyll. Brightness, calm, and harmony, instead of all sorts of sharp spices and conflicting contrasts. Even the Rubini-typical hard shells that encase the bottle promise, after the scratchiness of ‘Hyperion’, a silky smoothness in white-pink and light blue pastels.
But beware: what escapes from this spray head is still Rubini! This means that this house, or rather the responsible duo Andrea Rubini/Cristiano Canali, cannot launch a trivial, universally pleasant scent that simply wants to smell good, balanced, rounded, emotional, and soft. No, this scent, idyll or not, is a Rubini scent, a typical one, thoroughly.
The mere selection of notes initially made me shudder: coconut, champaca, mandarin, musk, vanilla...brrrrrrr. Not that I find these notes terrible - I too enjoy the smell of sunscreen from time to time, reminding me of sunny, hot childhood days by the lake. But what the heck has gotten into Rubini to bet on this worn-out horse?
Well, they are not the only ones. Sunscreen scents, or those inspired by beach scenarios in general, are currently quite ‘in’. Miguel Matos has dealt with this topic several times, Arquiste too, recently Marlou, and now Rubini.
But beforehand: there is nothing aquatic about this scent, absolutely nothing. And yet the mentioned notes convey the image of a sunny Caribbean beach, albeit not as blatantly as one might think. Something disturbs this stale idyll: leathery, light smoky, herb-fruity, and green aromas waft over, and no, it is not a group of bikers smoking a joint and slaughtering a pineapple. Here we leave the Caribbean idyll and head east, into Asian realms and a tea house surrounded by blooming osmanthus bushes.
The complex scent profile of this flower forms something like the key note of ‘Idilios’: alongside the floral notes, leathery, fruity, and smoky nuances characterize this profile, but not in the way we are used to here in Europe, rather modulated. Just as a lychee does not taste like a plum, but somehow has similarities, the osmanthus flower only faintly smells of peach, not quite as juicy, comparably sweet, but with less fruit acids, and the leathery facets that peach skin brings also acquire a strangely corporeal, almost meaty quality here, lightly smoked to boot - a somewhat quirky mix that I find smells damn good!
Looking solely at the presentation of the osmanthus flower, ‘Idìlios’ reminds me of ‘Cuir de Chine’ by Les Indémodables, where this leathery corporeality was wonderfully highlighted. Here, however, it does not come to the fore as clearly, but is still present and gives the idyllic scent scenario exactly the spin it needs to avoid becoming sleepy as a base.
Green tea, with its straw-dry, also subtly smoky nuances, is another important player on this scent stage, contrasting the floral and fruity sweetness and largely keeping them in check, so that ‘Idìlios’ comes with a certain base sweetness, but in perception - at least for me - does not appear particularly sweet at all.
A hint of vanilla and the finest light musk round it all off without veering too much into the oriental or animalistic realm. Throughout the entire scent progression, the action remains focused on the center. Osmanthus and green tea form the axis around which everything revolves: the Caribbean intro as well as the cozy, semi-oriental conclusion.
What further characterizes this scent is a slightly synthetic, lacquer-like quality that seems to permeate everything. It doesn’t bother me at all; on the contrary. Similar to the corporeality of the osmanthus flower, it gives the scent just the tension it needs to remain exciting, prompting the wearer to sniff themselves repeatedly, to delve into what is developing so multifaceted and contradictory in terms of scent. And this lacquer note in combination with osmanthus also reminds me of one of my favorite scents, ‘Flesh’ by Pekji, which, however, does without the Caribbean intro and develops significantly more animalistic over time.
All in all, I believe that Andrea Rubini and Cristiano Canali have once again created an extremely successful and interesting scent that fits wonderfully into the extraordinary series of Rubini fragrances. All strong character representatives, yet still connected by a familial bond. A bond that is characterized by a certain stylish eccentricity, a consistently high level, and brilliant craftsmanship.
Bravo, keep it up!!
And please do not fall into the breathlessness of other houses that once started so promisingly, only to ultimately succumb to mediocrity.
But beware: what escapes from this spray head is still Rubini! This means that this house, or rather the responsible duo Andrea Rubini/Cristiano Canali, cannot launch a trivial, universally pleasant scent that simply wants to smell good, balanced, rounded, emotional, and soft. No, this scent, idyll or not, is a Rubini scent, a typical one, thoroughly.
The mere selection of notes initially made me shudder: coconut, champaca, mandarin, musk, vanilla...brrrrrrr. Not that I find these notes terrible - I too enjoy the smell of sunscreen from time to time, reminding me of sunny, hot childhood days by the lake. But what the heck has gotten into Rubini to bet on this worn-out horse?
Well, they are not the only ones. Sunscreen scents, or those inspired by beach scenarios in general, are currently quite ‘in’. Miguel Matos has dealt with this topic several times, Arquiste too, recently Marlou, and now Rubini.
But beforehand: there is nothing aquatic about this scent, absolutely nothing. And yet the mentioned notes convey the image of a sunny Caribbean beach, albeit not as blatantly as one might think. Something disturbs this stale idyll: leathery, light smoky, herb-fruity, and green aromas waft over, and no, it is not a group of bikers smoking a joint and slaughtering a pineapple. Here we leave the Caribbean idyll and head east, into Asian realms and a tea house surrounded by blooming osmanthus bushes.
The complex scent profile of this flower forms something like the key note of ‘Idilios’: alongside the floral notes, leathery, fruity, and smoky nuances characterize this profile, but not in the way we are used to here in Europe, rather modulated. Just as a lychee does not taste like a plum, but somehow has similarities, the osmanthus flower only faintly smells of peach, not quite as juicy, comparably sweet, but with less fruit acids, and the leathery facets that peach skin brings also acquire a strangely corporeal, almost meaty quality here, lightly smoked to boot - a somewhat quirky mix that I find smells damn good!
Looking solely at the presentation of the osmanthus flower, ‘Idìlios’ reminds me of ‘Cuir de Chine’ by Les Indémodables, where this leathery corporeality was wonderfully highlighted. Here, however, it does not come to the fore as clearly, but is still present and gives the idyllic scent scenario exactly the spin it needs to avoid becoming sleepy as a base.
Green tea, with its straw-dry, also subtly smoky nuances, is another important player on this scent stage, contrasting the floral and fruity sweetness and largely keeping them in check, so that ‘Idìlios’ comes with a certain base sweetness, but in perception - at least for me - does not appear particularly sweet at all.
A hint of vanilla and the finest light musk round it all off without veering too much into the oriental or animalistic realm. Throughout the entire scent progression, the action remains focused on the center. Osmanthus and green tea form the axis around which everything revolves: the Caribbean intro as well as the cozy, semi-oriental conclusion.
What further characterizes this scent is a slightly synthetic, lacquer-like quality that seems to permeate everything. It doesn’t bother me at all; on the contrary. Similar to the corporeality of the osmanthus flower, it gives the scent just the tension it needs to remain exciting, prompting the wearer to sniff themselves repeatedly, to delve into what is developing so multifaceted and contradictory in terms of scent. And this lacquer note in combination with osmanthus also reminds me of one of my favorite scents, ‘Flesh’ by Pekji, which, however, does without the Caribbean intro and develops significantly more animalistic over time.
All in all, I believe that Andrea Rubini and Cristiano Canali have once again created an extremely successful and interesting scent that fits wonderfully into the extraordinary series of Rubini fragrances. All strong character representatives, yet still connected by a familial bond. A bond that is characterized by a certain stylish eccentricity, a consistently high level, and brilliant craftsmanship.
Bravo, keep it up!!
And please do not fall into the breathlessness of other houses that once started so promisingly, only to ultimately succumb to mediocrity.
Translated · Show original
27 Comments


I also notice that Rubini alternates between a 'soft' and a 'hard' or demanding scent in their release series. Maybe they communicate with each other as pairs - without resorting to traditional gender assignments? Tambour Sacré - Fundamental, Nuvolari - Odenaturae, Hyperion - Idilios?
And the same old formula that gets recited almost compulsively: Amber XX, Patchouli XX, Incense XX, Rose XX, Neroli XX, Wood XX... You really wish for the times of Edmond Roudnitska back, right?
Thanks also for the helpful context.
Thank you for the encouragement! It's going on the wishlist.