A very dear user, who, like me, appreciates characterful fragrances, recently brought Gothic Bluebell from London and generously gifted me (thank you again!!) with an exceedingly generous sample of this perfume.
What kind of scent can it be that carries such contrasting terms as "ghastly/barbaric/creepy" and "bluebell/harebell" in its name?
I spray it on ...
At first, it smells like heated metal - a scent reminiscent of what sometimes arises during welding - and soft, scorched rubber; followed by a hint of damp hay, slightly moldy, clammy wool, along with earthy, muddy notes. Gradually, something sour, something biting, fresh enters the nose, with a touch of laundry detergent scent and a little bit of flower. Together with the other components, it creates a mixture of spicy bitter and still slightly tingling nuances in the nose, until everything eventually merges into a calm, spicy-fresh, exotic, barely floral scent.
A whirlwind of impressions that condense into images:
A street where welding is taking place, rubber is heated, and scorched. A village. On the roadside and in various crevices, once dry grass, now damp from the long rain, is molding. Raw wool hangs outside, remaining clammy and wet in the never-ending rain - next to the mud, the ashes from the covered fire pits, and the laundry detergent-like, soapy streams that weave their patterns between the houses, connecting everything into a spicy, slightly biting aroma.
And then a tiny shop. It is dry inside and crammed full. All sorts of colorful, packaged goods on the shelves, and above all, the smell of laundry detergent, spicy soap, and faintly floral incense sticks ...
I have never been to India, but I have read the book "The God of Small Things." And if written words can conjure scents, then this book has evoked the smells of India for me so vividly that I believe I can now smell the overall impression of scenes and images in this perfume, many years after reading it. In a perfume whose fragrance pyramid speaks of completely different things, in a perfume that is called bluebell/harebell, albeit with a preceding "Gothic."
Only native ingredients from the British Isles have been used, it is said. Then I assume that the metallic, bitter, slightly biting notes come from the ivy and that it is also the one that gives the scent this exotic aura - which in turn conjures a distant land for me. The bluebell, botanically belonging to the hyacinths, is, I suspect, responsible for the floral, spicy elements, along with the daffodil, which contributes its profound sweet-sharp aroma to the scent cauldron, leaving all heaviness aside. Violet leaf and bellflower do not want to reveal themselves to me.
Gothic Bluebell is, unlike what my description might suggest, a wonderful, fascinatingly unique scent. The fact that I struggle to find the usual words to characterize a perfume while smelling it is simply because it is so unusual, so completely in a class of its own.
On my skin, Bluebell effortlessly lasts several hours and still smells finely spicy, fresh, and somewhat reminiscent of incense sticks in the last moments. The sillage is medium, and I would definitely classify it as unisex.
Bellflower
Hyacinth
Ivy
Narcissus
Violet leaf
Serafina
