Byrehoe

The most unisex of the DvN lot. In the opening it does what it says on the tin. Santal. Greenery. But in the dry-down I get fresh laundry. There’s something a wee bit watery/soapy/cottony about the meat of this fragrance which isn’t unpleasant, just nothing I’d shell hundreds for. If I encountered someone wearing this scent, I’d probably say they smelled well-laundered. It’s like if Tide collab’d with Diptyque and made a “Figuier” detergent.

Longevity: came in at a solid 8h+ on skin and fabric

Mental Snapshot: When you said you liked plants, you meant your hydroponic garden. And when you said you liked the outdoors, you meant surveying from the climate-controlled sanctuary of your penthouse. You love nature, of course. Why else would you own a biodome?

Tl;dr: polite, minimalist Dr. Bronner’s.

Chewy, musky black rose that is decidedly sugar-free. There’s also something that rings of anise or hard liquorice to me. Not like Redvines liquorice, but the hardtack Swedish stuff that punishes you for eating it. I know the goal for this scent was a raw, thorny rose but I just couldn’t shake the dank, mulchy soil notes. I also felt it was a bit too “mature” for my taste – I distinctly recall smelling a similar rose on my bisnonna.

Longevity: at least 6h; I couldn’t take any more and had to bubble bath it off

Mental Snapshot: Rain falls heavily, drenching the procession as they forge through your well-topiaried garden. However, you remain dry as old Egbert’s ashes. On your left: Leonie, the delicious estate attorney, clutching your arm. On your right: Waldemar, your winsome manservant, holding your umbrella. A shame your husband accidentally died… on purpose.

Tl;dr: must be worn with a mink and cigarette holder.

Orange cream sledgehammer. I couldn’t hear the sandalwood over the white florals. On first huff wanted to chalk it up as an airy, orange blossom soliflore, but on my skin it dried into something both more lactonic and neroli leaning. (And it clung with un-blossomlike tenacity). So this one was orange grove in the streets, melting creamsicle in the sheets.

Longevity: ~8h skin and greatest olfactory fidelity of the lot when sniffed a day later in fabric. Refused to budge.

Mental Snapshot: it’s a cloudless summer day on the coast of Sicily and you have a gelato in hand. Only its 30C out. And the molten gelato is now lacquering your whole arm.

Tl;dr: If I was a bee, I’d go ham for this scent.

The name made me anticipate a drugstore bottle of something like “Love Island: The Fragrance!,” but I found a more cultured spicy rose. Feisty and youthful without being syrupy or cloying. Essentially a fruity, red rose tempered with photorealistic pepperberries. (My childhood bedroom abutted a pepperberry tree so I drank that scent for a decade). Someone online also said “Herbal Essences,” which, once said, cannot be unsaid. Basic, but pleasant!

Longevity: Burned out around 4h on skin, but got >7 in fabric

Mental Snapshot: You’re a thirty-something playing a teen-something in an upcoming drama. (It’s ok: you’re still hot). Besides, you’re revisiting the follies of youth through the lens of wisdom and experience. (It’s ok: it’s an HBO production, not some CW cringe). You drink Mike's Hard in the back of a Maybach.

Tl;dr: stupid sexy shower gel.

My third favourite of the DvN fam. A smoky herbal that manages to come off clean, sweet, and faintly metallic. (But not like a vape pen! It’s giving more soft hookah). Would happily wear either day or night. The rosemary adds a subtle bite of spice. I find natural rosemary an overpowering scent (which also only makes me think of grilled chicken), but for some reason I loved it in this fragrance. Also I think this was supposed to be the rebellious/rockstar scent of the bunch, but I didn’t catch much of the cannabis. It’s there on first spritz, but quickly evanesces. Blessedly, nothing skunky about this one.

Longevity: about 6h on skin and clothes; I worked out in this scent and it lasted for a very out-of-shape 5k!

Mental Snapshot: You’re looking across the Mojave chaparral at midnight from the vantage of your glass-panelled loft. There’s not a soul around, save for a handsome android in your kitchen, preparing you a nightcap.

tl;dr: modern shisha lounge