Gobetthomas

The first perfume I really loved in my life, a decade ago. And like your (human) first love, I will never forget it.
I was 15 at the time, and I fell in love with it more and more (I may also have fallen a little bit in love with the jacked guy on your tv ad, and it maaaaaay possibly have played a part in my gay awakening.) It was also one of the first perfumes I ever discovered, along with other classic designers like Only the Brave from Diesel, Boss Bottled from Boss, and Invictus by Rabanne.

Already, young me knew my love for freshies and marine fragrances, even if I was not aware of it at the time.

Since then, I have grown out of three out of those four. Especially Invictus, which I find way too screechy now. I do still kind of like Boss Bottled and Only the Brave, just not as much. But Acqua di Gio, you’re my first love, and you will always have a place in my heart. It’s been years since I let you go, but I still think about you from time to time, and I think that you paved the way for the ones I love now.

After parting ways with all of them by reselling them or giving them to friends and family (at around 19 years old, and the father of my best friend still has my bottle of Only the Brave lol) and not wearing any fragrance for four or five years, I fell back into what is now my passion for perfumery at 23. Since then, I’ve tried hundreds and hundreds of references. I tried to train my nose and smelled everything I could, even if it was not what I liked, just to understand the art behind perfumery. I wanted to see if I could achieve just a small bit of reverse engineering regarding the emotional goal of the noses/perfumers behind all of those perfumes. Through this, I also grew to understand what I truly love now.

I’ve become a disciple of Jean-Claude Ellena’s and Olivia Giacobetti’s aquarelle/watercolor painting style in perfumes. I love those airy, watery, emotional perfumes that feel like nature snapshots. I also love Pierre Guillaume, James Heeley and Christine Nagel, and especially how Nagel can always put a little bit of a weird/special touch into something to make it more realistic and impressive.
Now, my favorite notes are ginger, incense (omg I love incense, Passage d’Enfer, I could die for you), basil, citruses, and the top one… salt/marine breeze.
And here we meet again, my beloved Acqua di Gio, this is where you paved the way.

The universally known Wood Sage & Sea Salt Cologne by Christine Nagel for Jo Malone, Moorea by Simone Andreoli for his own brand, the Un Jardin sur le Nil Eau de Toilette and Un Jardin en Méditerranée by Jean-Claude Ellena for Hermès, followed by the Un Jardin sur la Lagune and Un Jardin sous la Mer by Christine Nagel for Hermès as well, and your brother, Armani Privé - Vétiver d'Hiver , which was also created by Alberto Morillas like you, but for Armani's Privé line, Infusion de Gingembre for Prada, and finally Note de Yuzu by Heeley. All of these are now among my favorites, and all of them are either fresh-citruses or salty-marine-breeze forward, or both. And that’s where I think you still exist in my life, even after I gave you away years ago.

A lot of us who went deeper into the fragrance world, trying to explore private lines and niche/indie perfumery, seem to forget that there are some incredible, extremely well-blended perfumes in the classic designer market. I find many of these classic designer references really well blended, even if they aren't my style at all anymore. But Acqua di Gio, even though my nose and taste have changed, still has its place among my favorite perfumes. It may not be groundbreaking, but I think it’s one of the best classic designer fragrances that exists, and possibly one of the best creations and works from Alberto Morillas.

Maybe one day I will buy you again. Until then, your memory lives on in my love for salty marines and citruses.
But honestly, I thing that like a human first love, I should leave you in my past and remember you from time to time with a nostalgic and thankful feeling.

Okay, I’ve been testing it and smelling it for the past two or three days, both on paper and on my skin, and I’m having a hard time writing this review because I can’t quite pin it down in my head.

The first time I tested it, three days ago, I was torn between “I think I really like this” and “wait, no, actually I’m not sure, it’s weird,” but I don’t think it’s weird; it’s just a genre of fragrance I’ve never had the chance to smell before. It’s something so new that my brain is fixated on the novelty (and I think it's primitive instinct of: novelty = checking for danger = constant alert and a slight source of stress), so I had a hard time knowing if I really liked it because my brain was fixated on trying to understand the scent, rather than figuring out whether I enjoyed it or not.

This is the first time that I’ve smelled an incense like this; it’s not at all heavy, resinous, or smoky like most church incense perfumes I’ve smelled before. It’s a sparkling incense, with citrus and aldehydes notes that make it fresh, which also make the fragrance wearable in any season, not just in winter.

It doesn’t smell like a Catholic church like L'Eau Trois by Diptyque, nor does it smell like an underground church crypt like Passage d’Enfer by l'Artisan Parfumeur, nor does it smell like an incense-filled forest like L’Ombre des Merveilles by Hermès. Here, from what I read after trying it, Liquide Imaginaire markets it as a fragrance that smells like holy water, apparently, and I’m kind of in agreement with that. But before reading the marketing, I smelled it blind without knowing the story, and I find that it smells more like an angel, or an abbey made of white stone, flooded with light, blessed by an angel.
This fragrance is other-worldly, and I can’t find any images from the real world in my head that could describe it; the image that best describes this scent is a sort of abbey/cathedral in the clouds, with a gigantic ceiling height, made of white light stone, with magnificent moldings, the windows wide open, a breeze blowing through the entire building, everything flooded with light, and the abbey is open on both sides into the clouds with large arches, crossed at the base by crystal-clear rivers of water flowing from the heavens, as if we were in that classic image of paradise (yet it is absolutely not an ultra-religious scent; it’s more like the scent of an angel, affiliated with no religion, but rather of the divine and spiritual realm).

It’s been quite a while since I’ve had such a hard time explaining and categorizing a fragrance (because normally I know pretty much right away how much I like or dislike a scent), and this is something I’ve never smelled before.

For now, I’d give it a 9 out of 10. It's beautiful. I sprayed it a few hours ago, and every time I open the door and step back into the room where I sprayed the fragrance, I’m surprised by the magnificent scent lingering in it.

I'll see how I feel about this fragrance once my brain stops fixating on the novelty and focuses on the scent itself, but in any case, I have a good feeling that the rating might even go up.

Preface: I want to say that, generally speaking, I hate this type of fragrance, that dusty, desert-like leather scent.
It’s often too heavy, has no mouvement, something I absolutely can’t stand (I'm more an adept of Giacobetti's and Ellena's style in general). But here, Fernández and Liquides Imaginaire have created something impressive with this perfume. It is, truly, truly, TRULY well-crafted for a type of scent I would normally hate.

I think the reason I like it is because it has a movement that “heavy,” leathery perfumes of this style usually lack. The scent of these perfumes usually settles on the skin and doesn’t move anymore; it stagnates, becomes a weight on the lungs, and is almost disturbing, there’s no movement, no fluidity, no flow in these scents in general. Here, Buveurs de Vent (the name fits perfectly, as it turns out, litteral traduction would be Drinker of Winds), is dynamic; there’s a sort of breeze/draft, a texture crafted differently from perfumes of the same scent style. The movement is there, the wind is there, and that’s why I like it, I think.

It’s a slightly dusty, windy leather scent; I feel like I’m in the desert in Jordan or Northwest Africa. But it’s definitely not 45°C in direct sunlight. No, not at all. It’s evening, the sun is setting, we’re at the end of the golden hour, and it’s already starting to get a little cooler, though not cold at all yet. The sun is almost red in the distance and makes the sand and the gigantic rocks in the distance look reddish/copperish, and there’s a good breeze.

So, I know Arrakis doesn’t smell like this because it’s clearly stated in the books that the scent of spice on Arrakis smells a bit like cinnamon, so take what I’m about to say with a grain of salt:
It smells like Arrakis in Dune, but NOT the smell described in the books, rather the image one would have of the planet’s smell if no description of its scent were given. The smell of sand in the desert at sunset.

The image that comes to mind is riding a sandworm, racing through the desert at full speed, with a phenomenal gust of wind hitting you right in the face. The scent of the desert is there, the dusty scent of the massive shift of sand that the sandworm creates, all while wearing a leather jumpsuit (I don’t think stillsuits are made of leather, but imagine for the sake of the scent that they are). The final scene of Dune 2, when Paul rides the enormous sandworm, going at breakneck speed and creating a wind with a massive amount of sand dust : that’s exactly what I smell in this fragrance.

Not something I would own, but a great surprise and I love the "olfactive concept" of this fragrance, hands down, something great I really thought I would not like !

TLDR: Smells exactly like riding a sandworm on Arrakis at sunset in Dune, going full speed, with blasting winds and sand dust, wearing a leather stillsuit (if you COMPLETELY ignore the fact that the spice on Arrakis is supposed to smell like cinnamon).

I've been waiting for MONTHS now for this fragrance because the Jardins is my favorite collection and releases a new scent every three years when Ellena was at the command of Hermès, and every four years since Nagel took over. I was afraid of being disappointed as I reserved the last spot in my perfume collection for this Jardin, but I'm pleasantly surprised. I've only tested it twice so far, so take my opinion with tweezers, but I already like it a lot.

I read a lot of articles in the last two weeks, mainly Christine Nagel's interview with Vogue. I tried to imagine the scent and I was expecting something really marine but not marine in the classic mainstream men-freshie-marine-fragrance sense, more in the fishy-market way or something like that, so I was a little bit afraid of what it would be like, especially since Nagel has much more "grain" than Ellena in her work, she likes to create more textured smells than him, and some kind of synthetic-modern ideas (but I love her work too, she's one of my favorite nose).

Anyway, I tested the Jardin under the sea on paper and on my skin, and it was a pleasant and really nice surprise.
In my mind, it's a cousin (but not too close, maybe a second, third, or even fourth cousin) of Wood Sage & Sea Salt (for the salty, iodine-rich air, sea breeze aspect), as well as Un Air de Bretagne by L'Artisan Parfumeur (for the seaweed, kelp, sandy beaches on the edge of a northern sea with a cold sea breeze, in Bretagne or on the Irish/Scottish coasts) and Vétiver d'Hiver by Armani Privé (not sure why, but it does remind me of that refreshing cold sensation of it). But the whole thing is made much more sunny and "paradise island" with the tiare flower (which I personally love, but it's a note that is apparently difficult to like, from what I can see when reading reviews of certain perfumes that contain a note of tiare).

As for the tamanu nut note (which is supposed to be a mix between coconut and walnut in terms of smell from what I found online), I was afraid it would smell too nutty, but in the end it didn't at all. I have trouble distinguishing the note because I'm not familiar with it, but nothing in the fragrance shocks me, so I've deduced that this note is a good one lol.
And FYI: for anyone who has the same problem as me with fruity-sweet/coconut/milky notes, which change on my skin and smell less like coconut or peach and more like burnt synthetic plastic, there's no problem here. My skin makes C14 and C18 aldehydes/gamma-undecalactones (used in perfumery to create peach or coconut notes) turn, but here nothing turns into synthetic moldy plasticky mess; it stays natural, just like on the test strip, so yeay, good news !

The only difference I notice on my skin compared to the test strip is that my skin brings out a very salty aspect of the fragrance that is not very noticeable on the test strip, but this is not a problem; on the contrary, I find that it makes the fragrance even more appealing. (Then again, I'm a fan of salty notes in general, so my opinion is biased), but this is a fragrance that absolutely must be tested on the skin because I find that the scent is really more beautiful that way.

The opening of this fragrance is really beautiful, it's extremely fresh, much more than I expected before testing it, quite floral, and ultra-luminous. It's really an ideal fragrance for summer (to the point where I can't imagine wearing it in winter). I don't think tiare is the only flower used, but everything is well balanced.

I kept the scent strip, and it's been in my apartment for 48 hours now. I've smelled it 3-4 times since I came home from the store on Monday when the fragrance was released, and the very fresh, floral, and luminous opening has transformed into something very similar (I'd say a first cousin now) to Air de Bretagne by L'Artisan Parfumeur. It's very salty, quite seaweed-like, but not dirty, and absolutely not fishy. Fortunately, it doesn't smell like a fish market, it just smells like the seaside with seaweed, but in the form of a pleasant fragrance, and I'm a fan of that. It's quite interesting how the development of this fragrance resembles a journey from Tahiti to Bretagne or Scotland. We are along the coast or the ocean the whole time, but we go from the ocean of a paradise island where you stay in shorts all day in the opening of the fragrance, to the ocean of a cold and windy place where you almost need to wear a sweater when you go to the beach.
If you like the iodine smell of the sea when you go to the beach, I think you will love the closing of this perfume :)

Anyway, all this blabla to say:
It is certainly the most "bizarre" fragrance in the garden collection from Hermès (it's not a bizarre one, just the *most* bizarre), but that's what makes it all the more interesting. It's different, quite unique, adding something intriguing to the collection without being redundant (because I was afraid of a salty and woody white flower redundancy from the Jardin sur la Lagune).
It doesn't break three legs to a duck (no idea how to translate that in English), and does not reinvent the wheel, but it's very intersting, it's almost experimental, you could say ?
I think it will possibly be the most polarizing fragrance in the Jardin collection and it would not suprise me if the rating isn't the highest in the following months : either you love the almost bizarre side of this fragrance, or you hate it.
Personally, I will definitely be adding it to my collection as soon as I have the opportunity to buy it, and I advise everyone reading this to go and test it, on a strip and on your skin, if only for your general olfactory culture, or just to try something different !

And last thing before I head out : I try to find a music to match every perfume I have in my collection based on vibes, kind of a perfume-music synesthesia, and for this new Jardin, the closest match I can find is Music to Watch Boys To by Lana.

Well, update 2-3 weeks later : I was sadly right, people really do not seem to like it based on the reviews. On my side, I received my bottle and it's even more beautiful on skin at home without all the mixed perfumes smell in the air of the store. I do not regret getting a bottle at all, and I am extremely meticulous about the perfumes I allow into my collection, they must be perfect for me.
If, and I really hope not, but IF they discontinue it in the following years, I'll buy some refill bottles before it disappears from the market, it's worth it.

It's hard to find a decant of this perfume, so if you want to "hear" what it smells like, it smells EXACTLY like the song Black Sands by Bonobo. (And also Sometimes by Rilès, from 1:25 until the end of the song, but without the roudness and softness of his voice).

You are in the desert, sitting by a fire, i'ts night-time, the fire is almost out, there are only embers left, there is no smoke coming to punch you in your face, just the smell and a little warmth, the sand beneath your fingers and your legs, and a man around the fire with you (Rilès has the perfect face for this actually, go search him), singing with a guitar, or rather an oud/lute, but a dusty lute, it hasn't been used for a very long time, it's old, but not in the sense that it's broken down, just in the sense that it's dusty, very dusty, and you can even hear that it's dusty in the sound of the strings. You can also smell the warm sand of the day escaping from the ground during the night.

The smell is extremely, but EXTREMELY dry, it's very dusty, there's no roundness, no sweetness, it smells of sand, spices, heat, dryness, it's sharp, raw, beautiful, but not wearable for me.

It's absolutely magnificent, the nose behind (Bertrand) has done an incredible job, really, but for me it's absolutely not something I could wear. I don't like the smell at all, but I'm sure many people would love it. I think the amount of work that has gone into it and how it has been finalised is magnificent, it's truly a majestic job, but it's absolutely not something I would wear. It's fine art, but fine art that you love at the museum, not something you want at home. (I mean, for me, a lot of people would love it I guess).

Really, outstanding job, but not for me, but I admire the work, it took me at LEAST 5-10-15 minutes of smelling it to understand most of this scent, it's really beautiful and deserves to be in a museum. But that's it for me, a museum, not my home.

(The note I'm leaving on it is about how I like it, not how beautiful it is. Objectively, I think it's an 8.5 9 even 9.5 out of 10, but subjectively, lower for me.)