Hanbury

I'm pretty susceptible to perfume marketing - paint me a picture of a mediterranean villa with a garden full of mimosa and citrus trees, and I'll probably have added your fragrance to my test list before you're done talking. Add the image of a lady of leisure who dwells in this wonderful place, and the suggestion that by using this fragrance I can momentarily escape into her life, or at least a scented fantasy of it, and it's a done deal: I'm buying it right away! Or at least a sample, since I'm a lady of leisure in perfumed dreams only. So Hanbury gets high marks for marketing, at the very least. Unfortunately, once I did get the sample, I promptly proceeded to neglect it for months and months, like an idiot. When I finally remembered to use it, there was very little left, and I think the top notes had disappeared with it: I didn't get any citrus at all at first spray, just a kind of condensed version of the later development, strong mimosa with lots of musk. This missed opportunity (I'm sure that's what it is) is the first reason I'm going to put this on my want list: I want to experience that bitter orange in combination with that lovely mimosa! And that brings us to the second, most important reason: the part I did get to test out properly, the heart of the fragrance, really is great, and in a way that makes the marketing ring true: hours of creamy mimosa, honeyed and a little heady. Wonderful! With some imagination, it really can transport you to that villa, on an ideal day in spring: warm but not too hot. I'm not entirely sure about the drydown yet - all in all it's just a gradual softening of the main attraction, and so pretty nice as well. But for some reason resinous notes can sometimes turn a little sour on my skin, ever so slightly reminiscent of mayonnaise when sniffed closely, and unfortunately that's what happened with this one as well. It's not a big deal, though - it doesn't always happen, and if it does, I can just avoid sniffing my wrists too closely at that point. It's certainly not enough to keep me away from that villa - in fact, I want to visit it again soon, and often. Luckily, and appropriately, this is available in quite an affordable travel size, so I think I might!

This past weekend, I visited the New England Botanic Garden at Tower Hill, and there were small bitter orange trees and lemon trees in bloom. I inhaled the aroma of their blossoms, ethereal, sharp, and sunny, yet indolic. When applying Hanbury, I am immediately reminded of this, but here, these trees are mingled with honeyed mimosa in bloom, and the pairing smells so cheerful and promising. Gentile also created a calycanthus accord which I can discern in its heart, from my experience examining the fragrance of these flowers. The beguiling deep maroon calycanthus (often colloquially known as "spice bush") emits notes of stewed fruit, wine, facets of allspice, even that of pineapple and tropical fruit esters, almost like bubble gum. She captures it pretty convincingly here, with the citrus florals and mimosa, tempering any candied sweetness with tartness and haze. I am almost reminded of grape flavored Lik-M-Aid Fun Dip (remember those powder pouches with the solid sugar "lik-a-stix"?). Fascinatingly enough, a reassuring, fresh laundry white musk, laced with dusty pollen and hay, is the plot twist here, extending all the precedes into the dry down. Hanbury ignites both nostalgia and optimism in me and feels mood-lifting when I wear it. It's lovely stuff.

I experience Hanbury as a tea-inflected orange blossom scent. I don't know what calycanthus smells like, but the other listed notes don't seem obviously to account for my perception. It feels like a Big White Floral with herbal inflections instead of indoles. Is this just me? Anyone else familiar with calycanthus? Mia von Trost describes it as a little herbal and almost leathery with a twist of dried apple. The only part I can smell is the little herbal. The link to the note above puts it in a green category and says it can smell like burgundy wine (not here!) or strawberry (not here!) or grapefruit (it's a stretch). I agree about the English name, but it is the name of a garden in Italy.... I adore Hanbury. It is rich but joyous, sweet but lyrical, luxuriant and a little nostalgic. I think the nostalgia is for that garden I've never seen. In Hanbury, I wish I lived there. With eyes closed and the light summer breeze just right, I can, at least for a beautiful moment. And this is one of my favorite things about excellent perfumes in general: like mediation, they pull your awareness deep into the present moment. Hanbury succeeds brilliantly by this criterion.

This is a beautiful fragrance....it is captivating without even trying. It is beauty in so simple a form it stays both profoundly innocent (but not in a little girl way), and nostalgic all at once. When I first sprayed it on, it reminded me of childhood....a sudden sweetness I remember....wait...is it the grape Otter Pop from the freezer or the grape Pixie stick or grape SweetTart I opened and smelled back then? Honestly, this memory hit me and it was really nice! Suddenly the mix of florals, honey and incredible fruit take me to a garden by the ocean. Hence, Hanbury is all around me. I am not a big 'musky' perfume lover, but no worries because this fragrance does not over do the musk, and is fairly neutral on me. Good, erotic, musical and refined. It fools one to think it will be too sweet, but the incredible citrus and benzoin pull in back, and it stays smooth and lyrical for hours. Definitely a scent that makes a lasting impression. So glad I purchased it!

I was a little bit angry with my wife, when I came back home. But when I opened the door, and saw her I felt instantly reasonable, comprensive and lovely. I found the trick! This perfume give you a real positive mood, something sparkling and propositive. When the citrus and mimosa are gone, you are able to relax whit honey and musk.. A real trap! Only I don't understand the english name, cause for me, it's very very italic. I felt like to be in a summer center-italy garden, nearby the buxus maze, out of a villa and ready to leave for a journey on a little town feast.