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A perfect 10 that retreats quickly into the mists
Evokes the mystical, almost creepy nature of Arthurian legends. Contemplative rather than emotional in its sadness and exploration of the fact that all our metaphorical Camelots will end one day.
I bought a new bottle of Relique the week before the death of a family member, anticipating that this is all I’d want to wear. An ideal mourning perfume, yes, but also simply for thoughtful days. Deeply yearning yet unsentimental, with a close sillage that only declares itself when others are welcomed close.
All its notes are altered by their atmospheric surroundings. The lilies, wild herbs, and moss are covered in rain. The incense has trouble staying lit amongst the damp air around it. The waxed pews are worn and blotted with linseed oil spilled long ago. Holy water mixed with fallen leaves and debris. The linens of a lonely nun revisiting a once glorious, now crumbling chapel.
It fades too fast, as good things do.
I bought a new bottle of Relique the week before the death of a family member, anticipating that this is all I’d want to wear. An ideal mourning perfume, yes, but also simply for thoughtful days. Deeply yearning yet unsentimental, with a close sillage that only declares itself when others are welcomed close.
All its notes are altered by their atmospheric surroundings. The lilies, wild herbs, and moss are covered in rain. The incense has trouble staying lit amongst the damp air around it. The waxed pews are worn and blotted with linseed oil spilled long ago. Holy water mixed with fallen leaves and debris. The linens of a lonely nun revisiting a once glorious, now crumbling chapel.
It fades too fast, as good things do.
A ghost story in three acts
Fantôme scents - even the more experimental ones ones - tend to be quite linear (i.e. what you get after a few minutes is what remains). Ectoplasm is the opposite. It starts off as a deceptively mainstream vanilla/mallow gourmand that turns into an atmospheric shapeshifter that eventually returns to its simpler base notes.
Act I
You’re in a nice dining hall being served a beautiful dessert topped with spun sugar. There is a light brown toast on the marshmallow bits. A very faint essence of lit candles and freshly cut flower stems surrounds you, and something isn't quite right.
Act II
The illusion of the room is lifted and you find yourself alone in a dusty old manor. The dessert is still in your mouth, but scent of dried up flower stems on the table and aged chair cushions takes over your senses. A ghostly light musk drifts around you, disturbing the dust on the table.
Act III
You leave the house. Amber & myrrh warm up the vanilla, which comes back into focus once more. It is here where the subtle green notes really surface. New life?
Epilogue
The vanilla/amber/myrrh stick around for a surprisingly long time, pleasant and wearable and you are free to go about your day as if nothing happened. Sillage is very low through all phases, but the scent does last.
7.5 for the experience/vibes, but I’d say a 6.8 for the overall scent. A more thoughtful marshmallow than most. Not something I'd full size, but I think I'd rate it much higher if I were more mallow-inclined.
Act I
You’re in a nice dining hall being served a beautiful dessert topped with spun sugar. There is a light brown toast on the marshmallow bits. A very faint essence of lit candles and freshly cut flower stems surrounds you, and something isn't quite right.
Act II
The illusion of the room is lifted and you find yourself alone in a dusty old manor. The dessert is still in your mouth, but scent of dried up flower stems on the table and aged chair cushions takes over your senses. A ghostly light musk drifts around you, disturbing the dust on the table.
Act III
You leave the house. Amber & myrrh warm up the vanilla, which comes back into focus once more. It is here where the subtle green notes really surface. New life?
Epilogue
The vanilla/amber/myrrh stick around for a surprisingly long time, pleasant and wearable and you are free to go about your day as if nothing happened. Sillage is very low through all phases, but the scent does last.
7.5 for the experience/vibes, but I’d say a 6.8 for the overall scent. A more thoughtful marshmallow than most. Not something I'd full size, but I think I'd rate it much higher if I were more mallow-inclined.
Heady floral moonlight fairy brew
For me this carries a sort of high fantasy brand of floral drama - like something fairies might dab on unsuspecting humans to create a bit of ardor and mischief. Or a rare scent worn by an intriguing character that everyone is chattering about at court.
In short, a respite from our own plastic chemical world.
Hiram's 100% naturally derived florals are truly my jam. The vibrance of wearing 'the real thing' has made it difficult for me to swerve back to synthetic florals - even ones I love and appreciate. I find the beauty of natural notes is less controlled, and their lifecycle is more fleeting and difficult to work with, which makes the Moon Bloom's depth and impact quite the achievement.
Moon Bloom brims with wet tuberose and jasmine blossoms just picked from the plant. Like a freshly snapped stem, it starts sharp and intense before settling into a dreamy creamy floral. There is a pinch of salt, a salinity that’s more young coconut water than coconut flesh (on my skin, anyway).
I don't find it as similar to Carnal Flower as some other reviewers do. The indole leans a bit chlorinated, with a tingly facet enhanced by the greens and resins. The spice notes are very faint on my skin so I can't really isolate or identify them (possibly a tiny bit of coriander or ginger?). I find its funk level to be balanced and wearable, but it will really depend on your skin chemistry. Does the overall formula reinvent the wheel? No, but I find its main notes sing a slightly different tune than many other white floral notes, one I find exceptionally lovely.
The longevity and sillage are super impressive for being 100% natural. I know talk of preferring 'natural' or 'clean' fragrances can kick off contentious discussions on perfume boards and sites, but while I still wear the classics, I'm so so grateful to the natural and ingredient-conscious perfumers who are providing such amazing alternatives that don't skimp on elegance or impact.
In short, a respite from our own plastic chemical world.
Hiram's 100% naturally derived florals are truly my jam. The vibrance of wearing 'the real thing' has made it difficult for me to swerve back to synthetic florals - even ones I love and appreciate. I find the beauty of natural notes is less controlled, and their lifecycle is more fleeting and difficult to work with, which makes the Moon Bloom's depth and impact quite the achievement.
Moon Bloom brims with wet tuberose and jasmine blossoms just picked from the plant. Like a freshly snapped stem, it starts sharp and intense before settling into a dreamy creamy floral. There is a pinch of salt, a salinity that’s more young coconut water than coconut flesh (on my skin, anyway).
I don't find it as similar to Carnal Flower as some other reviewers do. The indole leans a bit chlorinated, with a tingly facet enhanced by the greens and resins. The spice notes are very faint on my skin so I can't really isolate or identify them (possibly a tiny bit of coriander or ginger?). I find its funk level to be balanced and wearable, but it will really depend on your skin chemistry. Does the overall formula reinvent the wheel? No, but I find its main notes sing a slightly different tune than many other white floral notes, one I find exceptionally lovely.
The longevity and sillage are super impressive for being 100% natural. I know talk of preferring 'natural' or 'clean' fragrances can kick off contentious discussions on perfume boards and sites, but while I still wear the classics, I'm so so grateful to the natural and ingredient-conscious perfumers who are providing such amazing alternatives that don't skimp on elegance or impact.
Is that all there is?
Works nicely as a toasty rice-centered light musk. Is that enough for a major scent release from a house like Diptyque? I’m not sure.
It feels like something is missing from this EDT - as if a note or two got chopped in the development process. Despite the ink-blotted label and mention of the meeting of paper and ink as inspo (and blotty ink featured prominently in their video ads), there are no inky or other thematically interesting notes that add much complexity. So I wonder if there was another iteration of this scent with more complicated aged paper or cool ink facets that were ultimately deemed too difficult. If they make an EDP in the future, perhaps more depth will come through.
The most interesting part of L’Eau Papier is the salty edge on its rice and sesame. Its sweetness is light and malty, and just lactonic enough for a hint of creaminess. A nice option for people who want quality rice and musk notes without sugar.
There are so many great rice and bookish scents from indie perfumers right now and I expected more from Diptyque's take on it. I enjoyed my sample and I can see why it has become a signature scent to many, but the thought that popped in my mind after finishing my samples was 'Is that really all there Is?'
It feels like something is missing from this EDT - as if a note or two got chopped in the development process. Despite the ink-blotted label and mention of the meeting of paper and ink as inspo (and blotty ink featured prominently in their video ads), there are no inky or other thematically interesting notes that add much complexity. So I wonder if there was another iteration of this scent with more complicated aged paper or cool ink facets that were ultimately deemed too difficult. If they make an EDP in the future, perhaps more depth will come through.
The most interesting part of L’Eau Papier is the salty edge on its rice and sesame. Its sweetness is light and malty, and just lactonic enough for a hint of creaminess. A nice option for people who want quality rice and musk notes without sugar.
There are so many great rice and bookish scents from indie perfumers right now and I expected more from Diptyque's take on it. I enjoyed my sample and I can see why it has become a signature scent to many, but the thought that popped in my mind after finishing my samples was 'Is that really all there Is?'
Transportive and primal yellow floral
You know those paintings of old fruits that bear little resemblance to our modern GMO-ed supermarket apples and melons? Gorseland is fruity and floral only in that old world sense - removed far from our modern day pulpy fruits and flower bouquets to produce a scent that truly smells like running through the brushy, untamed Highlands and eating tart wild apples hundreds of years ago.
Funky pineapple weed and gorse notes take center stage, but its earthy pungencies are well balanced by crisp gooseberry, apple, and lemon. The flowers are herbal and a softly sweet, and round out a bright yellow, sun-warmed character. Springy, yes, but in the manner of the unpredictable months of March and April.
Hearty and a bit cheeky with a dash of Romanticism, Gorseland is unlike anything else on the market and just so, so absolutely Scottish without the cliches that pop into the Scottish-themed scents from many other (not Scottish) perfumers.
If I had to choose a single a scent from Jorum Studio that truly captures its capabilities and brand DNA, this is the one. Rare, unusual notes. Challenging yet more wearable than you would think. Lives independently of the fragrance trends clogging our feeds. And formulated with specificity of intention that crafts a depth of time and place.
Funky pineapple weed and gorse notes take center stage, but its earthy pungencies are well balanced by crisp gooseberry, apple, and lemon. The flowers are herbal and a softly sweet, and round out a bright yellow, sun-warmed character. Springy, yes, but in the manner of the unpredictable months of March and April.
Hearty and a bit cheeky with a dash of Romanticism, Gorseland is unlike anything else on the market and just so, so absolutely Scottish without the cliches that pop into the Scottish-themed scents from many other (not Scottish) perfumers.
If I had to choose a single a scent from Jorum Studio that truly captures its capabilities and brand DNA, this is the one. Rare, unusual notes. Challenging yet more wearable than you would think. Lives independently of the fragrance trends clogging our feeds. And formulated with specificity of intention that crafts a depth of time and place.
