Hasu-no-Hana

A transcendent mystery to me. This is a very complex, very feminine, very floral, very old-fashioned chypre reeking of the late Victorian-early Edwardian era. All qualities I usually dislike. Absolutely evokes images of great big bun-like hairstyles and auburn tresses and yards and yards of impractical white tulle sewn into giant stuffy dresses. It's not a period I admire much in aesthetic terms. And in perfume terms all of this is miles and miles from the things I usually love. And yet... THIS IS MAGIC. Insanely seductive. Maybe like some of those swathed-up women in Whistler portraits or paintings by Sorolla ... or perhaps more accurately like some of Aubrey Beardsley's Art Nouveau femmes fatales ... it is indeed intensely feminine in an almost historic way, but there is strength and sex appeal and timeless beauty there too. Despite the retro aura and the high-class tone (not to mention the ruling-class price), it's not 'ladylike', but womanly instead. And it's not just a period costume drama - it's real enough to take you into a living garden. Pictures of Monet's Irises or waterlilies float through my mind. The pungency of oak moss and vetiver give it an earthy, lusty throb underneath all the frills and flounces of ultra-feminine rose and ylang and jasmine. There's just so much going on - but it never feels too much. It's as incredibly rich and nuanced and almost dominant as a scent like Zoologist Nightingale, though this one's historic while Nightingale is bolder and more modern. Hasu No Hana is so beautiful that it leaves me breathless, but somehow not smothered. For me I think maybe the secret's in the bitter orange, making it brighter and zingier than most historic chypres, while leaving out the animalics which tend to go a little bitter or sweaty on me. Its oakmoss underlayer is very punchy indeed. Yet despite all its chypre-ish-ness and its bossy projection it never cloys, either. Honestly something of a miracle and a genuine masterpiece. I can see why they've been making it since 1888 and hope they'll still be making it in 2088 and 2188 and beyond for it deserves to survive for all the ages. Has astonishing longevity on me (8-12h on skin, and many, many days on fabric, so beware, or be prepared, for it to last if you get it on your clothes ) and is multi-faceted and utterly individual right to the last. Didn't notice any drastic changes in phase or character; it just ebbs away, leaving me wanting more and more and more. Completely blew my mind. It's not my sort of thing at all. I'm kind of obsessed with it. What strange magic is this? Hardly dare to recommend anyone try it in case it has the same effect on them. But on the other hand I'd like everyone in the world to smell this just to see what a perfume can be. Painfully dear and not easy to source. It haunts me.

Hasu-no-Hana is a high-quality floral chypre, complemented by amber facets, classical in style and radiantly beautiful. I first came across Grossmith on a BBC documentary about perfume, where it featured the efforts to revive this old British perfume house dating from the 19th century. A descendant of the original Grossmith family stumbled upon the original handwritten formulas, and wanted to relaunch these historic perfumes while remaining as true to their original formulations as possible. I was very curious to try these, so I bought small decants. I love a good chypre, and this is an excellent example, utterly timeless and reminiscent of the greats. It is expensive, but given the quality of the ingredients and the beauty of the composition, it is arguably worth it. It reminds me in parts of chypres like Frédéric Malle Le Parfum de Thérèse or Rochas Femme, and there is a spicy amber accord that is reminiscent of vintage Opium, thanks also to the sandalwood. There is a slight Guerlinade quality to it as well, sans vanilla, just adding to the complexity of this perfume while being a nod to another legendary heritage house. HNH opens with a squeeze of fresh citrus, followed closely by the rich, sweet floral heart, led by ylang ylang. Vintage-style oakmoss follows, adding a delicious mossiness that imbues this scent with a chypre base from its early stages. The florals become powdery as they develop, mostly thanks to the iris initially, followed seamlessly by a big, powdery rose note. Clean white florals - mostly jasmine and some waxy lily - round it out, keeping it sweet yet rich and wonderfully powdery. Tonka bean complements the tail end of the bouquet, bringing the Guerlinade vibe to life, and adding quiet, hazy spiciness. It becomes increasingly woody as it dries down, with mostly sandalwood coming to the fore. Patchouli, that essential component of modern chypres, enhances the mossiness of the oakmoss with its distinctive earthiness. The amber slowly emerges from the background here, complementing the woody chypre notes to perfection, in a similar way to MDCI Chypre Palatin. It becomes slightly musky as it fades, with tonka bean lingering, adding smoothness. It fades to a musky, mossy skin scent. Sillage is fairly strong and longevity is long-lasting. Rich and baroque, HNH is a timeless beauty, made in the classical tradition. It feels French in style, despite its British heritage. Opulent, old-school elegance in a bottle, it is feminine in a classic sense, but unisex by modern standards, as is the way with mossy chypres. I love a perfume with history and a story, and this certainly applies to Grossmith. A bit expensive, but everything about it is excellent. 5/5.

Wearing something like Hasu-no-Hana may require a specific optics that to many may be impossible to commit. What we are presented with is as close to the original, age-old formula as Robertet perfumer Richard Melchio could achieve given modern constraints—and it is impressive. So impressive that my impression is that it is a portal to the times evoked by the imagery of Middlemarch or the Trumpet-Major. The colors are refracted through the looking-glass of an age no one alive on Earth today can recollect. Therefore, experiencing Hasu-no-Hana (Japanese for "lotus flower") may be perceived by the practical perfume wearer as a period piece deemed inappropriate for anything but the most formal occasions (do these occasions even exist today?). Many who actually commit to reading my thoughts are thankfully not the most practical perfume wearers. I salute you all, as we are part of a subculture that can romanticize, fantasize, and conceptualize while wearing scent. Therefore, Hasu-no-Hana may be riveting by design. The sparkling bergamot and bitter orange that first greets my nose is already underlined by an ensemble of florals and the patina of oakmoss. The bouquet is naturally opaque, an assemblage of white and yellow florals, traced with a rosiness. Having smelled pink and blue lotus flowers, I can confidently say that this is a more poetic interpretation of the flower, rather than a resemblance of their aroma. It feels subtly sweetened by an almost praline-like quality. I could theorize that it's orris and tonka together that imparts this effect. Further in, there is a carrot-seed like facet, followed by a warm, earthy sensation, followed by the type of fuzzy-woody cedar-meets-question-mark characteristic that likely could only be experienced through the reconstruction of a nearly 140-year old composition. It dries into something so crepuscular, bewitching—alien even. This suggests the temporal shifts in beauty's convention: the initial impression of old world opulence winds down to a haunting dissolution. Fragmented attention won't work for this wearing experience: apply it, take a long walk, resist the urge to look at your device, or alternately, crack open a book, whether from the time period or not, extract the passages from what you smell and you lose yourself in the imagery of what you read.

I’ve long wanted to experience this, yet finding Grossmith here in Australia has always been a challenge. Sometimes though it feels right to let nature take its course and allow beauty to find you. My only regret is having discovered Hasu-no-Hana so late, I have less time left to share in its magic. I couldn’t hope to do it justice with my words, so I’ll spare you a full note-by-note analysis. What I will say is that this is undeniably a classic piece of perfumery, yet it somehow transcends the traditional structure of the genre as it moves through its stages. The opening is as you would expect, but beneath the classic brightness of bergamot there’s an almost medicinal undertone which gracefully yields revealing an indolic depth as it unfurls. Where typically you might encounter the mossy astringency of oakmoss in the base, here that character emerges mid-development, intertwined with clean, delicate florals. The result is a beautifully elongated dry-down, rich with a smooth, creamy sweetness that I can only gather result from the harmonious interplay of patchouli and sandalwood at its base. To me, this is more than a fragrance. It’s a living testament to perfumery’s heritage, a composition both timeless and daring, rewarding those who choose to keep this art alive. Discovering it so late is bittersweet, yet every moment with it now feels like a gift.

Hasu-no-Hana was originally created in 1888, representing the scent of the Japanese Lotus Lily. It is a glorious gentle floral resting on a dry, Chypre style base. A true classic in the world of perfumery, created in a time long before corporate greed and profit-driven creativity. It opens rather fresh initially, bright and zingy notes of bergamot and orange pave the way towards the clean, innocent florals which include: ylang, Iris, rose, lotus and jasmine. This gentle and soapy harmony of beautifully delicate flowers is complimented yet rooted down by the grounding and earthy nature of oakmoss, Vetiver, patchouli and cedar. This contrast is to die for, smelling both mature and sophisticated as it is intriguing and beguiling. I adore this scent, it’s everything I hoped it would be and more. The structure is fairly simplistic, and of course I have no idea how closely the house has stuck to the original composition, but it certainly smells of the time without smelling ‘elderly’. I definitely need to pick this up soon.

Really this takes you to another place and time...such a gorgeous chypre,I did not know such perfumes still exist (and they don't..this is a re-creation of the old version from years ago)What impresses me most is the dark dusty dry powdery note of Hasu. The magical ylang-tonka-bean-iris-oakmoss combination is just stunning. This is what I thought a chypre of..never found it before in a perfume so called. There are also some flowery mouthwatering notes of jasmine and rose, but the iris is the most detectable and lasting one of the flowers in here. The bittr notes are not as extreme as in other classic chypres like Mitsouko , Hasu carries a sweet-bitter tone that is irresistable to my nose. A really haunting fragrance which whispers from another time, we can still dream of.

This is for the EDP, the P didnt seem to 'release' so well. Opens with the classic chypre slap (the perfumey DNA), then settles into this gorgeous and elegant cocktail of florals, woody notes and some moss. Surprisingly long lasting. It smells different to Chanel's Pour Monsieur, but gives that same bubble of confidence. Like CPM its very wearable, in part because it stays quite close, though HnH has better performance. If you like modern designer releases you might struggle with this, but lovers of classic perfumery should delight in this sublime perfume. 5/5

Gosh! What a beautiful timeless beauty. I have only recently warmed to chypres and this is a stunner if there ever was one. The oakmoss, iris and tonka bean are very evident on the opening. The citrus notes add their usual freshness along with a bit of kick from the vetiver. It is first and foremost a warm aromatic, earthy fragrance on my skin. I think it is very unisex and I would love to smell it on my fella. I can see what folk mean about the tranquility and peace this fragrance evokes. Moderate sillage and longevity on me.

This is becoming one of the most amazing fragrances I have experienced. It's hard for me to pick out the notes since it's well-blended, but I do want to mention there seems to be a vanillic note at the base. It smells like the soap that's in the most luxurious and expensive hotels in the world. Although not even that gives it justice. I must have this. Edit: I have owned this now for a few months and it is currently one of my top favorite fragrances. Absolutely wonderful.

This is a delicious fragrance from the first moment; a showstopper. Oriental yet light, with incense woodiness lifting its fullness. A pleasing dryness balances sweet slice. Timeless, and a good pairing with velvet and food. An instant personal classic, perched delicately on a cushion between l’Heure Bleue and Shalimar.

So achingly beautiful, can be worn in any situation. Admittedly it smells about 300 years behind the times but I don't care.

Chypres are a category of perfumes I have a kind of distant admiration for: probably because they're what was most common when I was a child, they smell more "perfume-like" to me than any other type of fragrance, which I like a lot, although I mostly prefer to smell them on other people. I guess it's because of that very childhood link - even at 33, they still make me feel rather like a child trying on her mother's clothes. That being said, I find myself enjoying wearing this Hasu-no-Hana quite a lot, more than I was expecting when I got my sample. I don't know if it's because my taste is finally getting mature enough to feel at home with a bonafide chypre, or because this one is really much better than than any other example of the genre I've tried - maybe a bit of both. In any case, it's a wonderfully timeless creation, and it does that "perfumey" chypre concept to perfection: all the notes are classics and obviously high quality, and the way they're combined is impeccable as well. I'm still not 100% sure I need a classic chypre in my wardrobe. For one thing, I just don't think I'd wear it very often, however much I like it - it's not exactly a comfortable scent, but rather formal and "dressed up", and I don't have much occasion for that. And even if I did, the price is so steep that I'd have to be head over heels in love to even consider this one, which isn't the case. Maybe someday I'll be rich enough (or enough of a chypre lover) to reconsider, but for now I'll leave Hasu-no-Hana behind, and consider myself lucky that I got to test it and broaden my taste.

How to sum up Hasu-no-Hana ? A spicy what exactly? Woody floral? I scanned the notelist for the expected cinnamon and clove but they're absent. The bergamot, bitter orange and sandalwood are doing a lot of work to make this feel warm and spicy, almost gingerbread-like. Both vetiver and patchouli are in the base which tallies with what I'm smelling, and as it dries it really rounds out beautifully. I still wouldn't think of it as a chypre but I'll go along with it. And as the accord develops I start to swoon. Oh I love it! There's a dose of powder and some lovely mossiness. Then I stop in my tracks. It's beginning to remind me of something. I'm racking my brains and then it comes to me. It's Shalimar without the vanilla and civet! All the other Guerlain big beasts are here: bergamot, iris, rose, jasmine, tonka, patchouli, vetiver and sandalwood. No wonder I love it, though it should be said Hasu-no-Hana was created decades before Shalimar . This one is for lovers of complex vintage scents, Guerlain-loving vanilla-phobes perhaps, if such a thing exists.

First produced in 1888? I'm surprised. Certainly timeless. This is a fragrance that smells exactly like the sum of its parts. It smells like oakmoss, iris, tonka bean, vetiver, bergamot, ylang-ylang, bitter orange, sandalwood, rose, lotus, patchouli, cedar and jasmine. I can detect every single note, and that is what is so wonderful about it. It sweeps me off my feet. Fantastic.

7.5/10. Masculine. Reminds me of my Dad’s aftershave, Paco Rabanne. My physician’s office as a child. Incense, honey. Full bodied. Musky, herbal. Strong but does not put me off, so quality is high. An orchestra with all sections at full capacity. It’s hard to concentrate on anything but this scent.

Yes, definitely try this stuff before you fork out £180. It smells like a concoction mixed at home from essential oils in my aromatherapy box. Extremely disappointed with this fragrance.

Very old fashioned from 1888??? Floral cheepre. Choise your style. No way I am gonna wear it in 2020... sorry, fans... Try before you buy

Ordered a sample - didn't want to like it. Honest. The price of this stuff.... I just wanted to try, to dismiss it as one of those overblown indulgent nothings from a rich person's exclusive brand. Didn't quite work out that way. Coromandel is my favourite perfume. Now this Grossmith Beauty has grabbed equal footing. I know, I know. I feel like a traitor, a cheat, a low down dog, but there it is. Perfect synaesthesia, this is the song made fragrance, so skillfully blended, it has become a song in itself. The only time I have been bewitched like this (and bewitch is the right word) is when my quaking knees were instantaneously calmed by Mdme Voodoo in the room of herbs, gris-gris, seashells and poppets in a cloud of Blue Sonata Oil. This stuff has the ability to calm a storm in it's soothing arms, whispering "it's gonna be allright babygirl, it's just ol' god clearing out his yard". Grossmith Hasu No Hana. Mon Dieu, it's the dark velvet star spangled sky and the whisper of breeze in the trees, it's a warm blanket around your shoulders as you sit on the sand at sunset listening to the soft hiss of ebb tide wavelets dragging back the sand on the tideline. The beauty of this fragrance is further enhanced by the drydown. After a night on my dressing gown, it has morphed into the deepest, mossiest, dustiest, exotic floral EVER. I can't can't disengage my nose from the fabric, it's so amazingly good - for an English fragrance, the drydown is decidedly haute French Perfumery, 100% retro, top down sports car winding down the mountainside roads of Monte Carlo. I inhaled the perfume from my skin, and I heard this, all night long. I'm looking for an easy bank to rob. Any ideas anyone? Yeah, I can see it now The distant red neon shivered in the heat I was feeling like a stranger in a strange land You know where people play games with the night God, it was too hot to sleep I followed the sound of a jukebox coming from up the levee All of a sudden I could hear somebody whistling Fromright behind me I turned around and she said "Why do you always end up down at Nick's Cafe?" I said "I don't know, the wind just kind of pushed me this way." She said "Hang the rich." Catch the blue train To places never been before Look for me Take a picture of this The fields are empty, abandoned '59 Chevy Laying in the back seat listening to Little Willie John Yea, that's when time stood still You know, I think I'm gonna go down to Madam X And let her read my mind She said "That Voodoo stuff don't do nothing for me." I'm a man with a clear destination I'm a man with a broad imagination You fog the mind, you stir the soul I can't find, ... no control Wait, did you hear that? Oh this is sure stirring up some ghosts for me She said "There's one thing you've got to learn Is not to be afraid of it." I said "No, I like it, I like it, it's good." She said "You like it now But you'll learn to love it later." I been spellbound - falling in trances I been spellbound - falling in trances You give me shivers - chills and fever I been spellbound - somewhere down the crazy river....

this Legendary Triad of Perfumes, Hasu-No-Hana (1888), Shem-El-Nessim (1906) and Phul-Nana (1891) I bought as Three in a Niche Perfumery in Rotterdam. it was either in the late 1990s or the 2000s. I was numb as well as mesmerized, left in disbelief as also lucky to have acquired these outerworldly perfumes. the perfumes seem as well Alien as Teletransported from an Historic Age. they precede the Roaring Twenties yet possess a Majesty English Perfumes can Beheld or in their Demureness and Retraction, be Suggested only these Florises and Penhaligons and Atkinsons, are not my cup of tea. whereas these three Empresses, fully are. Hasu-No-Hana (I have just spritzed it on) embodies a Powdery Trajectory with love of all the Flowers, used. Oakmoss, Patchouli and Vetiver can offer some 'concrete' woody flustering but the Iris and Lotus (so aptly described by alphairone beneath), this flower probably more reconstructed than mirrored in a Bio Physical Scent Profile with the Glass Clôches on your head, all these opulent Flowers speak their path, Sing their Heraldings of the Voluptuousness of the Vegetal and Floral Gifts in Pollens, Powder, Perfumes, interspacial and surfacial interdependent network in the perfume and then, OUT in the air. what strikes the most is the Power of Powderiness, the Pled of Pollens, the astringency of Oakmoss, I am just writing as this heady perfume whirls around me. Iris, Rose, Ylang Ylang, Lotus and Jasmine all come to the fore. as usual the fruits go beyond me wheter they wither and welt the opening together with a (theoretical) midsection. it isn't a study nor a calculatorix but an Emotion and Sensation. the Base Notes are also immediately present and return in the base but also the flowers keep coming. it is a Fluff of Powder and Sunshine, yet also the darker resides of Victorianae loose themselves in flight, in rivulet as also Arpeggio, yet more an Adagium to celebrate and herald Life and Death. Next to the venerable History of these perfumes they gained another Micro History in my House of 25 years. especially Hasu-No-Hana developed an Amber coloured Whine-like teint, macerating and retroactive flowering in vitro, the darkest of the Three. That Grossmith took the time and laboriousness to recreate these Pearls of the Past, is an enigma as well as it shows such Loyalty to History of Perfumery. I can compare these perfumes with those of Oriza L.Legrand, Guerlain and Chanel, and well yes, Creed as they were really Drapers of Cloth to the Real Figure already in 1730 (I made a research). however the perfumes date from at early as the 1950s but show a same eruditeness and exemplary refined but not as Floris, Penhaligon nor Atkinsons, so Deftly Demure that with Blenheim Bouquet I smelled ... nothing, nor with Night Blooming Jasmine. neither with Penhaligons Elizabethan Rose or Marylebone Wood. this are perfumes that stand the test of time. Perfumery is a rich Art.

Let me start with a historical overview of the brilliant perfume house of Grosssmith London. It is a very old British perfume house. originally established in 1835 in the coterie of influential perfumeries such as Penhaligon’s, Guerlain, Floris and Creed. The house flourished with royal and international acclaim and it rivalled many French houses around the turn of the century. Then it went downmarket and sold perfumes in the mass market. By 1970, the house was in serious trouble, and, by 1980, it was sold out of the family’s hands. Then, one day, around 2005, Simon Brooke was researching his genealogical background: he was the great, great grandson of Grossmith’s founder, John. He bought the company back and revived it with the help of Roja Dove. The plan: remastering the perfumes based on photochromatographic analysis of antique samples. Then in 2008, Simon met a distant relative who claimed to be in possession of old ledgers containing 300 of Grossmith’s perfume formulae which he had rescued from Grossmith’s offices during the 1940s Blitz. Simon, then commissioned Roberted group to re-create the scents , given actual IFRA regulations, regardless of the cost. They revived their three most famous historical fragrances. Hasu no Hana is the oldest one (1888). There is a sparkling bergamot and bitter orangein the opening, soon followed by an ensamble of florals and a beautiful oakmoss. The florals are yellow and white with a subtle hint of rosiness: it does not feel as lotus, more like a romantic rendition of this flower, but its ethereal quality are all there. I detect some sweetness: it may be the tonka and a very comforting texture. The drydown is very earthy and warm with a prominent cedar that does not feel ISO-E. Take a book of the 1880s, anyone. Be it Thomas Hardy's The Mayor of Casterbridge. Hasu-no-Hana will help you find the concentration it requires and you will live a full back-in-time experience. Follow me on IG @alexolympia6