Humid florals, this one opens strong — like stepping into a botanical garden’s greenhouse and breathing in deep. The green notes are most prominent, with an almost petrichor-like wetness; this is a muggy, damp sweetness that sticks to the nose. Orchid and jasmine stick out as the dominant florals, but without any powderiness like I might expect from that pairing; there’s nothing even close to dry here, you can practically feel the dewdrops on their petals. If I try I can get a bit of pear and even less bergamot, but there’s nothing basil or lemon about this for me — this is humidity and greenery and tropical flowers.
As a fan of Hummingbird, the photorealistic, punchy flower notes immediately reminded me of that scent. But Orchid Mantis is overwhelmingly greener, far more in-your-face, and has the wet, hot tropical notes that set it apart. Hummingbird is spring in a field of flowers, Orchid Mantis is summer in a greenhouse of flowers — with a lot more attitude; in a direct comparison, the musk stands out more in Orchid Mantis, and the patchouli base gives this more of a boss big sister vibe without being too much (I’m not usually a patchouli fan.)
Overall, exactly what I’d imagine from an Orchid Mantis — it lures you in like a pretty flower but won’t hesitate to bite your head off.
