Petrichor

From my IG @miscenscene: “They are with me still, real in memory as they were in flesh, loving and beloved forever. How green was my valley then." It begins with a sharp pang. The grass is a blade. Where I walk, it slices. Through the air. Through inhibition. There’s a power to the field. Overwhelming green, like the Springtime threatening to demolish you. But in time you find it comforting, it calms and settles you. A halo of resurrection descends, not unlike God’s dove. It tells you protection and safety await. Yes, showers come, but they prophesy of things to pass, the ones unseen. Marissa Zappas’s Petrichor has become my signature scent. It didn’t take long for me to take to it. It’s a complex bulb. Bitter at first. (Did you ever unroot an onion bulb from your yard? Smell it? Maybe even bite into it? I have.) It’s stinging like a thorn but soon betrays it’s calming nature: the powdery, dewy, grassy bloom on its other side. Bitter things often teach us patience. I couldn’t not think of John Ford’s masterpiece, How Green Was My Valley, while wearing this fragrance for the whoknowshowmanyeth time. A pastoral familial epic, about the people who mill the earth, stained by its crust. Yet they are surrounded by overwhelming love, that’s the feminine. Gentleness centers the movie; it shows that at the heart of all things hard and hardened is a fluttering, beating heart. Grasping you, calming you, whispering prayers of protection over you. Petrichor is a protector. It envelopes me in the truth of life while giving me a space to soak into its brilliance and beauty. And beauty is not a disruptive force, at least not in the beholder’s eye: it is one of peace and levity. It brings balance and order to the heart. And it denies the world all of its chaos. And I couldn’t think of a better final frame than Lana’s lucid mystic, a meditation on the film and life’s mystery of balance. (Layer with CDG Incense Kyoto for something otherworldly.)

A year and a half ago, my quest to find the perfect petrichor (the smell of rain and storms) fragrance began. I could envision it perfectly in my head and even jotted down some possible note trees to aid me in my search. I tried a few fragrances in this theme, but none of them were right and I stopped actively looking. That is, until I offhandedly decided to try this fragrance. My expectations were low, but what I found was a masterpiece. Sometimes fragrances move me. This one did; it smelled exactly the way I envisioned my fantasy petrichor—a potion capable of transporting one to blissful, profound moments in nature. I was looking for a peculiar scent profile, and what I found in this one is perfect. I couldn’t love it more.

It's yet another rainy day during an unusually wet year and yet I'm in a great mood because it means I get to wear my rainy day perfume. This one is so perfectly balanced on my skin, it almost feels like it was made for me. The opening is sharp, almost industrial with vetiver, ambergris and moss. The top notes quickly permeate forward, with wet lemon and rich orris root sprouting from loamy earth. The immortelle is such a smart choice here, bringing a soft and sweet dryness to an otherwise very "wet" set of notes. I get a demure but unmistakable fresh spiciness in here, almost like pepper, that adds some sparkle to the mix. My first Marissa Zappas sample - eager to see what else I might like.

mysterious, earthy, quietly intense; truly unique and unconcerned with being seductive or sensual. after a very long and elaborate search, i've found a scent that speaks to everything i have been looking for in a "signature" and more... lingers on into the next day, slowly revealing all of its facets over time. i haven't gotten to test it in warmer seasons yet, but i assume it would reach its full potential during spring or fall -- maybe even a cool summer night? i evidently do not have the poetic vocabulary to convey how enchanted i am by this fragrance but i love it... a lot.

If you're looking for an authentic, photorealistic petrichor scent, this is not it. Much to my pleasure, however, because the pungent, piercing nature of petrichor scents like Baie 19 are not for me. This is warm and round, the fresh-green accords dulled down by a powdery orris. It's less like trudging through the dirt after a heavy rain and more like watching the rain stop through an open window while bundled up in a freshly laundered blanket inside a cabin built in the 1970's. Really beautiful for fall and spring and the perfect unisex fragrance.