L'Iris de Fath Parfum

I was able to test L'Iris de Fath on paper and on skin during the 2018 Esxence show. I haven't had the opportunity to smell vintage original Iris Gris, nor the reconstructed version of Osmothèque. So I can only assess this fragrance on its own merit. On paper, the majestic orris root immediately took my breath away: the almost buttery milkiness, the violet-tinted woody backbone, the slightly carrot-like rooty undertone, all the fascinating features of iris raw materials are here, satisfyingly rich without feeling weighed down by itself. The peach was initially quite shy, like the first sunshine at dawn barely through the substantial cloud of iris. When much later on, the dried peach-like, decadent and mature fruitiness finally gains the upper hand, the lactonic aspect of the peach makes a natural transition to the creamy iris. An intriguing bitterness also hides within, recalling both the peach pit and the rootiness of iris. Whereas it's already fairly enchanting on paper, L'Iris de Fath really blooms on the skin. While the exquisite orris still leads the way during the opening, the peach comes through much earlier with its succlulent fruity sweet-tartness. This immediately creates a contrast between the plush, almost unctuous orris and the lively, glowing peach, and renders the fragrance a somewhat 3D effect compared to its performance on paper. Then, at around 30 minute mark, something unexpected (to me) happens: a vivid oakmoss starts to spread underneath the peach-iris and eventually becomes an equal player starting from the 1 hour mark. At this point, it actually smells to me like a technicolor Mitsouko with a big dollop of luxurious orris! I say technicolor, because the 90s EDT, 2014 EDP and 2015/2016 EDT versions of Mitsouko all smell more or less sepia to me, with the dried peach barely illuminates the dry, slightly leathery and faintly mossy base like candlelight reflecting on a sepia-toned vintage photo. But in L'Iris de Fath, the peach is more exuberant and luscious, while the oakmoss is greener and more lush, as if the saturation parametre is dialed up in this picture. A soft veil of powdery spicy carnation gently hovers upon the mossy base, like a distant echo of 1940s when this flower was in its prime in perfumery. The moss retreats to the background about 4 hours in. It now essentially provides a velvety, plush texture to the tender duo of peach and orris. L'Iris de Fath then remains this silken, cozy yet elegant skin scent of peach and iris till the end. The sillage is mostly close to my skin, while the total longevity is around 8 hours. Personally speaking, I'm very fond of L'Iris de Fath. The bright, colourful peach and the sumptuously buttery orris make an enticing contrast yet are still harmoniously, seamlessly blended together. The coral glow of peach shines upon the thick, almost grey cloud of orris, yet when the peachy light and the orris cloud expand towards the horizon, the edge is blurred into gorgeous sunset afterglow. Numerous references from vintage perfumes can be picked out in L'Iris de Fath, from the peach-mossy Mitsouko association, the powdery kiss of carnation to the overall elegant and abstract style of classic perfumery. However, the fragrance itself ultimately feels contemporary, even timeless, partly because latest releases seem to favour buttery orris than metallic, rooty or starchy types of iris, partly thanks to it using modern raw materials, but most importantly, I think it retains the kind of harmonious beauty with a broad appeal that has the potential to transcend time. When compared to other iris or iris-peach fragrances, I also find L'Iris de Fath quite unique. Iris Silver Mist exaggerates the rooty, carrot-like aspect (which I dig), while Xerjoff Irisss skews a bit powdery violet lipstick-like after its initial creamy opening, but L'Iris de Fath really puts forward the buttery texture of iris without forgetting its woody and rooty undertone. When set side by side with Sultan Pasha Irisoir and DSH Scent of Hope, the biggest difference that I perceive is the mossy base and the subtle carnation touch in L'Iris de Fath. Regarding the peach-iris duo itself, I find that Scent of Hope has a more dominant peach and Irisoir has more emphasis on the woody iris (I enjoy both too), whereas L'Iris de Fath has a more balanced peach-iris and is more buttery in comparison. However, as much as I enjoy L'Iris de Fath, I have to admit that its 1470 euros/30 ml price is indeed a very steep one. Reading the interview conducted by Fragrantica, it seems to me that its pricing and limited distribution are at least partly a deliberate choice to keep it rare. While I certainly would like that it fit into my range of budget, based on what I smelt, it has a certain level of quality and artistry that I personally don't feel shocked if people are willing to pay for it. After all, it's a purely subjective issue depending on one's taste, value and personal circumstances. That being said, with 150 bottles produced per year and at this price, to sample it would probably require much effort and money, and along with it, an extremely high expectation which will be very difficult to live up to, like any legendary unicorn in perfumery. However, if you're prepared on this front, I personally would definitely recommend giving L'Iris de Fath a try, especially if you happen to be around the boutique where it will be available.

[1100] Iris is my favourite note of all. One of the most expensive perfume ingredients, it is the ultimate in refined subtlety. Always compelling, it is multifaceted by nature, a singular floral note that oscillates between being delicate, shimmering, buttery, steely, hazy, rooty, earthy and powdery - sometimes all at once. Its powdery greyness can feel mysterious or melancholic, but mood and artistry aside, iris always feels luxurious to me. It works beautifully as a contributing factor to a composition as a whole, but is truly magical when placed centre-stage. L'Iris de Fath has been on my list since Luca Turin's second perfume guide was published. He had a hand in creating this, and the careful work and adherence to the original formula have paid off. I have long wanted to smell the original Iris Gris on which this is based, but it is a unicorn - very rarely spotted in the wild. I bought the 4ml vial of IdF to try. At €100, it is very expensive, but the 30ml bottle is prohibitive, produced in limited batches, and I was grateful that the vial was available. It is excellent, second only to my beloved Serge Lutens Iris Silver Mist, but the price point is a big downside. IdF opens with grey, powdery orris, the crux of this scent. Rooty and dense, dark and bread-like, it is gloriously multifaceted in the manner of orris when showcased at its best. It it is exactly what I'd hoped for when I purchased this vial. The floral aspect of the iris follows, airy and slightly green, again adding to the complex nature of this note. The iris note is derived from the root of the plant in perfume, but somehow the flower is rendered here alongside the orris. The petitgrain perhaps is key in this regard, its green woodiness enhancing the plant-like quality. IdF is all about iris, but as it unfolds, the other notes emerge alongside it, serving to complement it beautifully throughout. Carnation is most evident, a frequent bedfellow of iris, adding its distinctive clove-like sweet spice. A fruity accord adds freshness - I get juicy peach, muted but realistic, giving way to floral, orange-y neroli, which adds body. Violet comes to the fore as it develops further, another predictable complementary note to the iris. I get some powdery rose as it progresses, melding nicely with the iris and violet, but not quite becoming lipstick-y. Powdery, clean jasmine adds body, almost Chanel-like alongside the rose and iris. The chypre drydown is the perfect accompaniment to the iris that persists throughout. Earthy, mossy and with some smooth sandalwood, it complements the florals to perfection. The soft peach lingers until the drydown too. It becomes softly musky as it fades, a fitting conclusion to the powdery iris and earthy chypre accord. Sillage is intimate and longevity is long-lasting - sometimes parfums don't project well despite their concentration. It is unisex, and best suited to early spring (iris to me evokes the image of winter melting to spring). IdF is undoubtedly a beautiful iris scent that is well-composed with high-quality ingredients. The iris lasts throughout as I'd hoped, satisfying my iris craving. It is one of the best irises I've smelled. However, it is far too expensive to justify a full bottle, and I still prefer Iris Silver Mist. 4.5/5.

L'Iris de Fath pulled me straight into the magic of fragrances. I was looking for a really unique bottle and google spit out and images of the stunning bottle design. After doing some research, unaware what the specific iris scent is all about, I ordered the sample, I liked the "limited edition" approach. When I applied a drop to my wrist I was hit, HIT by what I would call the grace of Orris - so deeply anchored in the earth but still connected to the lightness of the heaven - duality at its best, perceivable. I was immediately fascinated by this complex scent. Not knowing anything about it's original design, I read a lot about it which gave me even more appreciation of the distilled magic of this plant. It is the most beautiful thing I ever perceived through my nose. I have a good nose, and smell a lot. I am tired of the harassment though the Parfum industry and wrong application of scents in women and men. Sometimes I get blessed and a person passes by with an aura of mystery as the scent is following him or her. I do not understand IRIS mentally, in my mind. The scent of Orris is so complex and otherworldly that I find the comparison to lipstick scent quit an insult. It is like an ever expanding space of not understandable impressions engaging with you. A truly magical scent that doesn't belong into the world of words. Any description I saw, other than writing about the other scent partners added.... don't do it justice. It is an incredible positive, friendly and benevolent impression that admits into your presence by smell. Just like a dream. I will put the money to the side to order this masterpiece which doesn't need to be compared to anything. It is truly an invitation to pull your attention away from your eyes and other senses and go deep into the perception of your nose with your unfocused eyes looking up into the sky to try to grasp the little moment of magic. Thank you. *I am new to the world of scents, I have a good nose, great insides but still learning the right words for it. Stay with me (: *

I must admit that i find the review of dr borat below quite contradicting itself. Its quite a rollercoaster journey🤤 Here we go... "So many people would hate this earthy, rooty, high-irone orris..." ...followed immediately by... "I absolutely love this type of scent." So apparently it's a flaw that the perfume smells exactly like the highest-quality orris absolute. Then we get: "I wasn't impressed." A few paragraphs later: "It smells like 80% irone orris absolute." "It reminds me of Iris Silver Mist." "It has vintage peach, powdery violet, oakmoss, plush musks..." "I actually prefer the Extrait." For someone who wasn't impressed, there sure is a lot to admire. The funniest contradiction is the comparison to Iris Silver Mist. First it's presented almost like a disappointment—"I didn't expect it to remind me so much of ISM." Then the conclusion becomes, "This only makes Iris Silver Mist even greater." So... Iris Gris is criticized for sharing DNA with what the reviewer later calls the undisputed greatest iris fragrance of all time. That's like complaining a grand piano sounds too much like an exceptional grand piano. And then there's this gem: "It smells like a less bold Iris Silver Mist." Considering Iris Gris predates Iris Silver Mist by decades, that's an interesting way to describe influence. It's a bit like saying the original inspired work feels like a toned-down version of the one it inspired. The review reads less like a critique of Iris Gris and more like an extended love letter to Iris Silver Mist that accidentally admits Iris Gris does almost everything the reviewer loves. If you know, you know...

Beautifully done! I've had a few samples of the original as well as a small mini I lucked upon at some point in my perfume journey. They all had different nuances and were in different states of disrepair or not...and this smells VERY close. Perhaps any distance from the original is simply the difference between aged perfume lacking its topnotes and fresh. A dry but sweet peach, violet-like ionones, and a bread-ey orris root supported by musks and a reserved sweetness (perhaps a touch of vanilla and some brightness from lily of the valley aroma chemicals). There's also a noticeable clove note in this. While the "bottle porn" $1000 ounce version of this felt like a stab in the eye to true perfume aficionados, I do appreciate that they've made 4ml of it available for a "reasonable enough price" of 90-ish bucks to make it accessible to fans who're willing to shell out SOME money for vintage samples. This is beautiful, though, like Nombre Noir and Patou Pour Homme and other unicorns, perhaps suffers a bit under the weight of expectations. It's not a weird, austere, uber-creative combination of notes (i.e. Djedi), but it is a perfectly lovely and balanced orris/violet/peach that smells like idealized skin and, I'd wager if it were widely available, it would be a solid enough seller today.