Vernus

this truly surprised and enchanted me. something that the pyramid note doesnt capture is that vernus is smokey through and through, but not in an aggressive way. it’s a rather delicate smoke beautifully framing wildflowers, hay and a ripe quince. while the scent opens up and evolves, it is constantly wrapped in a thin ribbon of warm woody ash. i know that euan was trying to allude to the awakening of spring with this one —it is yellow green and the freshness of all the new flowers is felt— but there is something about it that registers as autumn for me. the smoke, hay and quince suggest the death of summer, and the freshness of new buds almost feels like the first winter chills. i think this has the ability to capture seasonal transformations at times when the earth awakens and then goes to sleep. it speaks of dramatic slow change. beautiful but also soo delicate. all the jorum scents i have worn have that quality: long lasting, projecting but never overpowering or cloying. i smelled this on a beautiful autumn day while visiting new york and felt immediately drawn to it. i can’t wait to put my nose up to this in the spring and to find out what it conjures then.

This blows everyone I know away when I wear it and I’m not surprised. It’s inoffensive yet super interesting and intoxicating. Like just pungent effervescence smelling it in the air will make anyone take notice. My coworkers would erupt with stories from their childhood of some outdoor activity they enjoyed and it’s always during spring time that the memory took place. So this scent nails the concept perfectly. It smells like pollen and wood burning while u drink some kind of herbal tea your mystical grand aunt mixed up to fight the allergies. It smells like revisiting a vibrant and enriching childhood. Smells perfect while I listen to No Joys new album Bugland.

This is a smokey, dusty stable. The hay is most forward. The narcissus and jonquille here smell like opening a musty cabinet with pencil shavings and old dried flowers used in some medicinal or fire ritual, thanks to the paprika. I agree with scent detective encased in a hickory... really quite lovely. Don’t get me wrong though, this is solar too. I think the citrus, sunflower and petitgrain work to “pick it up”. Vernus has vintage and austere written all over it. Apply this to well-moisturized skin and wear it under cashmere and it will really sing and warm things up! In fact I think this smells a bit like cashmere or wool on me... back to that stable imagery.

Vernus is intriguing and unique...and I love it! The narcissus is there for me through the wear, but it's "encased" in smoked hickory with slight paprika...I know...sounds strange, but it works well on my skin. I would say the smokiness with a floral aura reminds me slightly of Bois d' Ascese, but where BdA has a slightly sweet, ambery note, Vernus has Narcissus flower, which is hypnotic and very comforting. The dry down is beautiful to me...ahh...a wonderful perfume! Another hit from Jorum Studio for me, and two thumbs way up!

though vernus is named for spring, this is indian summer to me, it has more a dry quality of dying grasses baking under a hot sun than anything wet or budding. it’s no doubt the hay that’s lending to this—hay and yellow florals are the standouts in this composition. vernus is gorgeous, whatever season it evokes. a favorite of an earthy perfume lover. (don’t get any sweetness like other reviewers, smoky earth through and through)

Hickory smoked sweet floral. As someone who doesn't care for traditional florals, I really love this. Makes me think of sitting by a fire in a log cabin on a chilly spring day.

Smells like what I imagine spring would smell like in Hobbiton. I love Euan's fragrances.

Vernus opens with a rush of civet -- a hissy, civilized animalic, not too skanky -- and then a bright wedge of peach. Thereafter it's a fruity, fuzzy, musky, sweet golden-peachy thing. I get a hint of a honeyed liqueur note, and a bit of a beeswax vibe, but overall it's quite faint and indistinct. I tried reapplying more; this time I got a hint of smoke, and again that jammy, peachy, honeyed note, cocooned in a fuzzy hazy musk. But that's basically it. I can tell from the notes and the marketing copy that this is supposed to be a sort of golden, balmy, agrestic spring floral, a hay-and-narcissus story, which is usually one of my favorite things, but Vernus just isn't it. Zero hay. Zero narcissus. No flowers at all, in fact, just sweet fruit jam. If you actually want the thing Vernus is supposed to smell like, you want Roberto Greco Porter sa Peau, or Bruno Fazzolari Au Dela Narcisse, both amazing modern musky narcissus scents. I also like a honeyed peach scent, but Francesca Bianchi's amazing Tyger Tyger is strictly better on that front: much stronger and more legible. Vernus is *fine* -- it's sweet, it's hazy, it has a touch of that "clean skin with a drop of salt sweat" effect that makes perfumes feel grounded -- but it's just really faint and simple. Not up to Jorum Studio's usual creative standard.

Beltane festival remains, bonfire and flowers... Heavy black smoke in the opening which faded in about 5 minutes, leaving behind a hay-lined basket of lightly smoked narcissus, jasmine, quince, and magnolia.... Despite the name I think the notes could make this a perennial scent. This is almost fresh to me, but I'm trying this in winter.... Still, the magnolia, petitgrain, and quince are citrusy and cut nicely through the paprika and lingering smoke. It prevents the hay and smoke from ever feeling grimy.... I smell gorgeous narcissus mostly, and a light jasmine throughout. I've been looking for a narcissus perfume for a long time and this may be it. It's so unusual.

As others have said there is a distinct smokiness at play in this fragrance I was not expecting from the listed notes. In fact, I would characterize this scent as more smoky-powdery than yellow floral. There is also a distinct almost gourmand sweetness in addition to the hay and floral sweetness. For me this conjures an image of baking an apple pie in a cob oven in the middle of a wildflower-strewn hay meadow. An unexpectedly cottage core treat, although I wish it had a bit snore impact. It’s like catching brief images in pale wisps of woodsmoke.

A game of color association in ochre... red, orange, yellow. Metallic rust, clay earth, dried brick. Paprika, mussels, oakwood smoke. Daffodil, sunflower, buttercup. Dry grass, sunbleached wood, dirt trail. Sometimes, it feels like sitting too close to the campfire. But it's perfect for a hazy day. Overcast summer days, cool summer nights, the Indian summer after the first frost- those times when you want to sparkle and fizz like a sparkler- it's incredible.

well, she sure does smell like spring. very outdoorsy, airy. clear water, snapped flower stems, woodsmoke, hay and the brisk, mineral scent of soil. a meadow of jonquils. a tad sharp.

hay in your hair, quince syrup on your fingertips, flower crown crisped by firelight

tasty, smells like lays bbq chips and bulleit rye

fish, followed by the rind of an underripe citrus. sour, sweet, fish is gone. hickory, hickory, and more hickory. i cannot discern the florals. to my southern nose this smells like an artisanal barbecue sauce. i don’t care to smell like that. softens to a smoky skin scent. not the spicy floral i was expecting, and that’s okay. i will send it forward.

Smoked bacon followed by Bortnikoff-style citrus funk, followed by rotting fruit with dying flowers.

VERNUS, 2025 Euan McCall wanted to re-reate an olfactory childhood memory. Vernus is a latin word for "what belongs to spring", creating a scent around jounquilles, but accompanied by many other things. How did Euan build the narcissus accord? He clearly foregrounded the hay, leathery, and honeyed nuances of the narcissus (in increasing order). The bouquet that accompanies the narcissus seems to me to be made of a gardenia accord with overtones of citrus (magnolia) which extend the bitter petitgrain of the opening; There is obviously an abudance of jonquile (less expensive than narcissus): honeyed and indolic, with nuances of mimosa, tobacco, and tuberose. There is a hint of creamy, indolic and spicy jasmine. All this bouquet will accompanies a heady and green, with a slightly sharp edge and soupçon of leather – narcissus. Now you need to imagine the Scottish surrondings of this big field of piercing narcissuses. The opening is all about petigrain: floral, verdant, tinged with fruit and a hint of the bitter, green and with woody undertones. It is quite enjoyble and invigorating. The fruity aspect is exhalted by an extraordinary note of quince (a apple with low content of sugar). The hickory with its smoky aroma and savoury undertones, creates with the quincy the impression that I am eating an apple-pie (not of the sweet-type). We have also marigold with its strong, spicy, and herbal olfactory profile. Bitter enought to contrast the (already slight) fruity sweetness of the concoction, it imparts a sublte hearthy and musky undertone. The soil is represented by the omniscent galbanum (not of the colder type here it is almost resinous) and the goldenrodwhose profile is is herbal, terpenic, and floral at the same time. There is a paprika oleoresin and sunflower’s herbal/rooty/ vegetal musky/dry hay-like aroma. It really seems to me to be sit against a tree in the middle of a meadows with a carpet of jonquilles surrounded by balls of hay while eating an apple pie. There is none of the fragility of Bluebell's Penhaligon's here, but just a bucolic dream. Follow me on IG @alexolympia6

As others have mentioned, there is a prominent smokey facet in Vernus that is pretty powerful in the opening. I struggle with this formulation because it pulls quite sharp and heady for my nose, and I sort of wanted the opposite experience in Vernus. Edit: it's very likely the Narcissus note is contributing to that, but I don't have many encounters with it to know for certain. The brand has a flair for the dramatic and this certainly makes an olfactory impression, but it's not the soft and sun-lit fields I had hoped for. Instead it's traces of sun creeping into a shed that warms piles of wood, coating the still air with a dusty hue. To their credit, there are some notes that I have yet to see utilized in modern perfume, so it's an extremely unique scent profile. I love the touches of florals, but they aren't necessarily fresh to the nose.

I’ve always wondered...how do perfumers come up with their concoctions? How do they know which ingredients work well together and which done? The notes in here are so random. Did the perfumer just go ‘oh let me put some marigold in here and see how it smells with a hay and narcissus essential oils. Oh, you know what, let’s actually add in some gardenia and quince.’ No wait I don’t like the smell of this let’s take the gardenia out and add goldenrod in’. So random lol. Like Is it all just trial and error?

Agree that this starts with a surprising blast of gasoline. It recedes, but stays lightly in the background, changed - giving off rather earthy dinosaur bones than liquid varnish. When that happens, the narcissus, quince, petitgrain, hay, and paprika come forth. I actually find this makes a better masculine than feminine, due to the "herbal-like" flowers and the petitgrain/bigarade