Fresh doesn't have to be energetic and uplifting.

I have always struggled to find fresh and clean fragrances worth adding to my collection - I'm just not the type of person to enjoy a scent heavily based on zesty citrus' and clean, aromatic woods; archetypical freshies and blue fragrances are out the window for me. I don't think they're bad, per se, but... they're just not me, you know? Just like putting on an outfit that's decidedly clashing with your estabilished personality. I don't need the lift from a whiff of neroli and grapefruit or the aura of ambroxan and cedarwood about me to give me confident energy and a sparkle in my eyes.

What I expect from a fresh fragrance is for it to ground me.

No, this doesn't translate to smelling like the above picture - plenty of fantastic aromatic fougeres out there to do that; also, I'm not trying to convey that my definition of fresh is a misty european forest (though it could be).

I'm trying to persuade you to consider that fresh can be dark instead of bright, introspective instead of outgoing. I'm most certainly not breaking new ground here, but I'd like to share with you my perspective on what that can mean using certain fragrances as examples.

As a short sidenote, I don't deal in ephemeral fragrances; Everything mentioned below has enough staying power for at least 6 hours (on my skin, temperate climate).

She Came To Stay from Timothy Han was one of the very first fragrances that helped me understand my specific taste in dark freshness. It's an ingenious fragrance that's heavily based on basil, clove, vetiver and oakmoss along with a house signature accord that reminds me of... peas! It's not that citrus is absent from this composition that makes it dark. It's in how it evolves, completely subverting your expectations with how backwards it is; the citrus comes last, and all of the woody, aromatic, slightly earthy and resinous touches come first. I can't wait to wear it when spring and summer comes.

Rhizome 03 from Rhizome is yet another of my firm favorites, much more "typically fresh" than the fragrance just mentioned. Smoky, damp basil is the name of the game here. Again, citrus is present, but just barely and to punctuate a slightly spicy note along with woods and vetiver. With time this fragrance evolves into something reminiscent of the smell of drying grass and hay with basil sprouting beneath. Perfect for crisp mornings before the gym.

Vetiver Veritas from James Heeley is a recent pickup for me. It fits the bill of a dark, fresh fragrance perfectly. Bitter grapefruit accentuates earthy and cellar-like qualities of vetiver and this, with assistance from a handful of mint, produces a fragrance that's fresh in the same way entering a mountain cavern may be fresh. It's cold, damp, the cool air stinging your nose as you get whiffs of the aromatic, woody vegetation behind your back.

Oud Minérale from Tom Ford is certainly an acquired taste, I myself bounced right off after my first time wearing it. Today? Can't wait to use it when it gets warm. It's a very odd type of freshness: aquatic, briney, smoky in an almost unpleasant fashion, balanced by a delicate sweetness that reminds me of damp paper. If you're no stranger to oddities, try throwing this one on the next time it gets sunny and warm, you might just like it when it warms up on your skin.

Jan Barba is a Polish house that deals in extraits and eau de toilettes that might as well be labeled extraits with how strong they are. Aiyoku in its Extrait contentration is already on parfumo, but the EDT variant isn't, and it only feels right to mention it here. Aiyoku Eau de Toilette is bold and bitter-sweet. Literally! It has a very strong presence of bitter citrus and sweet resins alongside vetiver, oakmoss and floral notes to give you a very airy, yet thick olfactory experience. If wearing a contradiction of transparent, bitter citrus and sweet resins sounds like you, then you might want to track this one down.

Lyric Man from Amouage, mostly known for being "the rose fragrance" from the omani house. I think it's anything but rose-centric, and probably not quite as dark as some think, either. It's soapy and bitter in the same sense that some spa products (face masks, bath gels) have a certain chemical, but pleasant quality about them. The rose functions as something of a thickening agent scent-wise, making the composition denser, structured and smooth. Lyric Man, with its semi-sweet, semi-rosy, semi-bitter and semi-soapy scent profile, almost begs to be called a "red fresh" fragrance. To me, it's something I'd love to wear straight out of the shower.

I could go on for a little, but not much longer. I've shook hands with hundreds of fragrances over the months, and so very few strike this specific urge I have for an unconventional type of freshness.

Maybe you could try meeting Clean Suede from ELDO and familiarising yourself with its aldehydic, soapy and slightly vanillic leather?

Maybe chat with Mr. Vetiver from Une Nuit Nomade - a criminally underrated niche house, and a criminally peppery, spicy and woody vetiver?

If you seek the dirtiest, the most masculine type of freshness, maybe a conversation with Iron Duke, full of cold, clean geranium and green woodiness, is in order?

Maybe all you need is to take a rest from the cold, right there, by the firepit? I-III Russian Tea will surely share the fire with you.

I don't know. But thank you for reading.