A fragrance called ‘Melancolia’ could really smell different: dark and heavy, gloomy and overcast. Not so ‘Melancolia’. Quite the opposite: no earthly heaviness and no leaden melancholy. This bottle releases a almost sparkling aroma of cheerful freshness and fine sharpness that instantly lifts the spirits and brightens the surroundings.
Wow, what a contrast to the name of the fragrance!
When I first sprayed ‘Cool Water’ over 30 years ago, the scent had a similar effect on me: suddenly there was brightness, a fresh breeze, simply air! After all the heavy orientals and dark animalic leather chypres, such a lively, zesty, ozonic aroma - it felt good!
Not that I wanted to compare ‘Melancolia’ to ‘Cool Water’ in terms of scent, as they smell too different, but both share this overwhelming freshness kick.
However, this kick initially made me a bit skeptical, as it has been varied a thousand times. Ginger, mint, cardamom, and musk can be found in so many fresh-aquatic men’s fougères of recent decades and have also made their way into the shower gel shelves of drugstores, that I have been wondering for years: does it ever stop?! No, it doesn’t stop.
Now here comes ‘Melancolia’ as well, do we really need that?
Yes, we do need it, because even though ‘Melancolia’ carries a slight shower gel hint, the fragrance smells damn good: the green freshness of mint, the fruity sharpness of ginger, the spicy-soapy spectrum of cardamom, the aromatic herbiness of bay leaf - I don’t want to stop inhaling!
All this freshness, spiciness, and sharpness is underlined by a slightly buttery-doughy aroma that gives the fragrance an unexpected gourmand twist, without it tending towards anything overly edible or sweet. No, it’s really just this buttery-doughy, for me very delicate undertone on which the spicy, sharp, and fresh notes can really let loose - like a freshly mixed dough to which the just chopped aromatics are added.
Probably the musk plays a significant role in creating this association in my mind. However, I think that there are one or two ambrette connections at work in the base of the fragrance, because the listed notes surely cannot be solely responsible for the stability, depth, and longevity of the scent. There is certainly more at play!
Fortunately - at least for me - the full grand fragrance organ is not being used. The melody is beautiful and sung by only a few voices, but each note is perfectly placed. As with ‘Phantasma’ and ‘Lacrima’, the fragrance remains somewhat true to itself, does not take any dramatic turns, and can therefore also be considered with the often negatively connoted ‘linear’. However, in my opinion, ‘linear’ is not always a drawback; it can also be a plus, especially when the dimensions are rather manageable, but the melody is good. Then I prefer a linear fragrance to a aimlessly meandering one that often turns into a corner I don’t want to follow (like ‘Eau Sauvage Parfum’: first phase, great. Second phase, okay. Third phase, meh...)
So, ‘Melancolia’ can pass as a linear fragrance, more linear than ‘Lacrima’ and certainly more than ‘Phantasma’. Towards the end, it loses a bit of sharpness and green freshness. However, the bay leaf becomes increasingly prominent over time. Overall, I would say that the bay leaf really stamps this fragrance - its bitter, aromatic facets create an exciting contrast to the sharpness of ginger and freshness of mint, giving the fragrance an inner tension that lasts until the last whiff. The fragrance never gets boring!
When I first tested the three ‘Humeurs’, it was indeed ‘Melancolia’ that I liked best right away, even though based on the descriptions I had read beforehand, I thought I would prefer ‘Phantasma’, or in second place ‘Lacrima’. But no, it was ‘Melancolia’, followed by ‘Phantasma’ and then ‘Lacrima’. After some back and forth testing, the order has indeed changed a bit. Today, I like ‘Lacrima’ best, closely followed by ‘Melancolia’ and with a slight distance ‘Phantasma’ - all the fragrances are really very beautiful!
‘Melancolia’ is certainly the most striking and impulsive - it practically jumps at you with its good mood, while ‘Phantasma’ might be the most complex and disturbing scent, and ‘Lacrima’ the most introverted and conciliatory.
With ‘Melancolia’, it is certainly easiest to understand what the creators of the fragrances mean by ‘antidotes’ that these fragrances are supposedly supposed to be: antidotes, then.
‘Melancolia’ is surely one such antidote for melancholy and gloom. ‘Lacrima’ can also provide warmth and affection to the grieving. But ‘Phantasma’? Hmm, well, a concept, especially a fragrant one, doesn’t always have to work out. Maybe it will reveal itself to me one day. So far, I can interpret it more than I can comprehend.
‘Melancolia’ is definitely fun, real fun.
Even if the name suggests otherwise.
But, far from it!
Updated on 03/07/2020