Synthetic Jungle

I was born in the wrong period. I should've been born in 50s, or perhaps the 60s, so that I could've thoroughly enjoyed the green perfume craze of the 1970s. I love green perfumes - whether it's galbanum, vetiver, grasses, herbs, etc. - I have a bias and a natural fondness for them. I would've worn No. 19 and Private Collection to death. I would've missed the launch of Vent Vert, but it would've been a lot easier to track down a bottle in great condition (and of a good formulation) much more so than it is today. But I wasn't born at a time to appreciate the perfumes in that period as new, and instead I was born of a time when I could appreciate Malle instead. Synthetic Jungle is not the first time Malle has harkened back to perfumes of yesteryear. Musc Ravageur of the brand's launch was an ode to Shalimar, more or less as an example, so when one of my favorite brands of the 21st century said that their new perfume drew from the 70s green classics of No. 19 - probably my favorite Chanel - and Private Collection it was all that I could do to not be overly gleeful in anticipation... and then I read the press blurb and became confused. Using words like "modern" and "old", "natural" and "synthetic", "hyper realistic" and "fantastical", the blurb juxtaposes descriptive antonyms so close to each other that you get the feeling that Malle is intentionally trying to confuse us, or perhaps ask us a question without ever really driving at one. When you smell Synthetic Jungle, this is certainly confirmed. If you thought No. 19 and Private Collection were tours de force in greenness, buckle-up and hold onto your hats. I was right to be confused by Malle's description because definitely upon the first 30 minutes to an hour of the perfume, and not to spoil the plot but throughout the remaining life of the perfume as well, the descriptors of "old", "natural", and "hyper realistic" do not apply. "Modern", "synthetic", and "fantastical" certainly do. We've all seen that sci-fi movie - take your pick of which one because there is a massive number of them - where we, the audience, are far in the future of human civilization where technology has exploded past its current state, we've explored the outer reaches of space, and for some reason or another "plants" have to be grown in these almost-comically scientific environments: the jungle of the far future is instead some massive greenhouse-type enclosure of glass or some other perfectly clear material, perfectly hygienic white structures holding it in place, the sounds and visuals of unfathomable technology whirling away to keep these plants at their most optimum state, the plants themselves are some mixture of the familiar and the extraterrestrial - so hyper-saturated in color (at least on our 4K televisions screens) that they look unnatural to an impossible degree. That is what Synthetic Jungle smells like. Whereas No. 19 and Private Collection could somewhat get away with calling themselves vaguely naturalistic in their hyper-greenness by presenting a palpable texture - call it powderiness if you will - Synthetic Jungle does not give its greenness a palpable texture. There is a shine and a gloss to it that is smoother than glass and equally impenetrable. According to Malle this is an effect of a synthetic material meant to smell of black currant. I can believe that because 1) there is a fruitiness to the galbanum that is not so much the taste or smell of fruit but the color of fruit; I can see the purple of the black currant, but I can't really taste or smell it - if that makes sense (probably not, sorry); it's like light is being bent through a glass prism to give you the purple spectrum wave. And 2) this slightly sour fruitiness has no naturalness to it at all, so I have no problem believing it is 100% synthetic. The lily, hyacinth, and jasmine heart presents more naturalistically thanks to having the textural effects that the galbanum top did not, but that line between natural and synthetic is incredibly blurry. One thing to be said though is that it is very pretty: stylishly and beautifully blended, and colorful. The moss and patchouli base is very quiet but keeps to the theme. It's a load of rubbish but for some reason the first thought to enter my head was the smell you get from a desktop PC tower after you've turned it off from hours of running; the moss and patchouli notes don't olfactorily smell like very warm metals and plastics, but there is a quiet heat and steam to the base that made me think of this for some reason. This is a very bold perfume in its vision and composition. It's meant to challenge. The highly polarized reception to it is a strong indicator of this fact. The green perfumes of the 70s were more emotional and heartfelt, intending to connect you with nature by bending your perception of it a bit. Synthetic Jungle is a sci-fi epic meant to distort your perception of nature to the point where you think you might be going insane. It took many wears for me to finally come to grips with it, and to have an understanding of what it was making me smell, think, and feel. You must give it time and plenty of attempts, and, even then, there is no guarantee you'll be won over. It certainly won me. (This review was posted from The Matrix.)

I've been looking for a fragrance like this for several years. My Mom was a florist in Greenwich CT, Nijole's Flowers. I used to pick Lilly of the valley for her as a kid, and it was always my favorite floral scent. It's pretty nice one in Synthetic Jungle, with a bit of green hyacinth as well. The greenes is coming mostly from the black currant leaves, called cassis, I believe. It is a green herbal, woody, animalic (cat pee) smell, that has facets of the black currant berries. It blends well with galbanum. So this is what Ms Flipo did, she added a touch of green vegital galbanum, and a hint of basil. This is most of your greeness, with a bright greenish floral, hyacinth. This makes me think of a masterpiece, Givenchy Insense: It was a lilly of the valley and back currant fragrance marketed for men. It was too ahead of it's time, as it was too floral for men. It came out in 1993, 2 years before Kurkdijian's Le Male, which finally broke through as a floral dominant men's fragrance. It is very green, and reminds me of Diptyque's, L'Obre dans L'eau; Synthetic Jungle is more floral. The lilly of the valley keeps it from getting too green. There is a tart freshness, especially in the open. Coming again, from the black currant leaves. You don't get much fruity smell from the black currant. On reading about Synthetic Jungle on the FM site: This fragrance was composed as an ode to green fragrances of the 70's, like Chanel #19. The Parfumer used synthetic black current, cassis leaves, and another aroma chemical, to shine the natural bouquet of florals through a modern prism. Thus the name, an imaginary "Synthetic Jungle" of greens and light florals. I think it comes off as very natural. So don't worry about this being some crazy synthetic mess. The best, natural green fragrance I have found in my fragrance journey, is "Honeysuckle" by Creed. Honeysuckle is in French. It's a vaulted, discontinued Creed. But it's the best, Spring and Summer, totally natural, non-fragrance fragrance. Synthetic Jungle does a good job at something similar. This is worth a try, or even a blind buy. Nothing offensive here... There may be something synthetic in it, a good synthetic, blended with mostly natural essences. It makes it a bit modern. I purchased FM Rose and Cuir recently. It is very similar, but much softer, and more natural smelling. The green here in Synthetic Jungle is like watery tulip stems. More cassis in Rose and Cuir, but not too much, as in L'Ombre Dan's L'Eau. PS: I agree with Kristo and Eugene on YouTube, that Frederic Malle is the new Guerlain. Guerlain is making more fragrances with cheeper aroma chemicals. Not all their fragrances, some still great. But FM is making consistent, original high quality fragrances, as Guerlain did in it's hay day. Projection and longevity is well above average. Rating: 8/10 God bless. John 3:16

All manicured wilderness, Synthetic Jungle is immediately lush but never evocative of overgrowth. One of its main notes is hyacinth, an oily, multi-coloured, more-than-green but essentially a verdant scent. It is indeed floral in character, proportionally huge and blooming; the utter concentrated essence of springtime. This jungle is not aggressive, but serene and refreshingly still, padded with atmospheric noise, followed with an entire array of greens. To my nose, muguet rapidly becomes the central note. Its serene angelic breath is a green drowned in an excess of white light, and this shadowless purity provides the background in which the crunchy, peppery, and anisic snap of basil is juxtaposed with the sizzling bitterness of sappy galbanum. Synthetic Jungle is a fantasy of ideal jungle greens. The fantasy itself is achieved with the ‘synthetic’ qualifier, itself a promise of abstraction – a movement away from determinate natural reference points – the creation of a utopic jungle that is immediately known but cannot be located in real space or mimetic memory (it is a jungle we all know of, but have never known properly). Synthetic Jungle has the benefit of soft spokenness, of confident and crisp laconicism, at times smelling as if it has invented a new shade of green through techniques of careful composition and arrangement. Synthetic Jungle is unexpectedly urbane and moderne. Where many green fragrances either plunge into the depths of dark greens, or embrace the certain free spiritedness of lightness (in all of its senses), Synthetic Jungle capably offers the wearer both in excellent balance. There is the gorgeously airy, slightly salty aqueous breeze of florals, and there too is the grounding base of patchouli and moss. Imagine the shiver of arboreal petals and green grass as an exalting wind rushes through, picking up the scent of the forest on its voyage. A mighty fine example of how a green ought to be, especially when, in a depraved market, it seems that all perfumed forms have been exhausted – and the crucial element missing is a spark of inspiration. Creativity is infinite, but only under the appropriate conditions. Full review on my blog: olfactics.net

I had to run some work related errands today, so to the annoyance of everyone within five feet of me, I wore Fathom V by BeauFort London on my left wrist and Synthetic Jungle by Frédéric Malle on my right wrist. With Fathom V, the experience is raw and unsettling from the very beginning. On my pale Celtic complexion skin, the opening is sharp and almost overwhelming. It's a clash of bracing herbs, juniper, salt, and a moist soil accord that immediately conjures the image of decaying Easter lilies sinking into water on Antipascha Sunday. As it develops, there’s a strange tension between the delicate florals and the darker pull of moss, vetiver, and incense. The saltiness persists, binding the fragrance to an aquatic space that I would not describe as refreshing. It feels more like standing on a weathered dock in north Maine surrounded by brackish water and moist wood. Synthetic Jungle, by contrast, strikes me as a controlled and polished vision of greenness. Where Fathom V is chaotic and elemental, Synthetic Jungle feels sculpted and almost purposely architectural. The opening is crisp, dominated by a hyper-green lily-of-the-valley and Hyacinth [Bouquet not Bucket god rest her soul today], sharpened by basil fawlty [please someone wrap him in bubble wrap]. Its structure is clearer, the florals arranged in a way that brightens rather than suffocates. As it moves into the heart, the green continues, but the weight lightens and the patchouli planted in soft moist earth serves only to anchor the composition, never dragging it down. One leans toward chaos and moist earth while the other toward order and botanical brightness. In choosing between them I feel I am really choosing between confrontation and refinement. So why are these two my favourites after 27 years of collecting hundreds of bottles? That’s a beautiful question and one that cuts deep into how fragrance works emotionally, physically, and symbolically. There’s a melancholic beauty, like remembering a place I’ve never actually been, or I place I've been many times. When I catch a whiff radiating up my shirt from these two, I feel both soothed and unsettled, which is a balance I secretly crave.

Probe el Frédéric Malle de la mano de la perfumista, Anne Flipo. Y debo decir que me ha emocionado a la vez que me a transportado a la más profunda infancia, al menos en mi caso. Ese lugar en la memoria donde los aromas se arremolinan y permanecen estables como el primer beso. Primero suelo proyectar el perfume en el aire, y asi poder obtener una ligera cosmovisión del mismo. En este caso cae sobre mí como la lluvia rodeada de plantas exóticas, percibo la humedad atomizada de los saltos de agua resbalando entre las hojas. Vale..., todos sabemos que los perfumes son elaborados en gran parte con compuestos sintéticos, pero llegado este caso y captando esa naturalidad, me hace dudar sobre si es correcto el nombre Synthetic. Es un ensueño de jungla o tal vez un jardín botánico exuberante, del que apenas percibes la tierra, una sensación agradable y muy diferente a la que me ofrece Carnal Flower, otro perfume al que considero único y cautivador. Una vez pasada esa experiencia que dura unos 20-30 minutos, deposita su presente como un regalo. -Mi sensación. En verano, en algunos lugares de nuestra tierra bajo el crepúsculo de las calles, una flor ilumina las sombras y envuelve todo en su mágica fragancia. La dama de noche despierta los sentidos, como este Synthetic Jungle. Hiperrealista, bello y misterioso. Observando la pirámide olfativa no me lo esperaba, pero yo la siento así. Buenas estelas con una proyección de unas 2-5 horas, que caerán paulatinamente para perdurar en mi piel durante unas 12 horas. Climas ardientes y templados cálidos, aunque ideal por encima de 20 grados. Yo la veo unisex, aunque comprendo su vertiente un 10% más femenina. Uso tanto día como para noche, esta última más íntima, más para compartir en tu entorno mientras es transportada por la brisa. Aunque en estas fechas ya se amielen las hojas, creo no esperaré a que caigan para hacerme con ella. Probar en piel. EXCELENTE COMPRA.