Violette Hay

I encountered Violette Hay on a failed mission to acquire a bottle of Maison Violet’s Un Air d’Apogée from my local niche perfume shop. Sold out, unlikely to be restocked before the holidays. Well, what’s the point of that for dry, rustly, Indian summer fragrance like UAA? Luckily, the shopkeeper directed me toward the Marissa Zappas table, a new brand for the store. I hadn’t put together that Marissa Zappas was THAT collaboration-prone perfumer who had lingered so tantalizingly on the periphery of my perfume consciousness thanks to the iconic Nose Candy podcast, but I knew that Violette Hay was something worth my attention at first sniff. As the hay cart on the bottle indicates, this is indeed a harvest fantasy, more humidly fecund than UAA but certainly checking the same boxes. Violet is not a favorite note of mine, often sharp or cloying, reminiscent of grandmothers and not in a cool way. But the violet accord here is wonderful, soft, crepuscular. It is misleading in some ways for me to mention it first—it is neither the first note to emerge, nor the real star of the show. But the treatment of violet hooked me intellectually. Known to be a tricky accord to master, it’s wonderful showmanship to make one this lovely and then make it part of an ensemble. Another intellectual hook- many other reviewers are remarking on how feminine this perfume is. In fact, it is very close to being a traditional masculine fougère. Switch lavender for violet and you’re there. The pairing of the very masculine coumarin hay and the very feminine violet is a study in androgyny that could be convincing on someone of any gender. Violette Hay opens with carrot seed and coriander, aromatic and slightly funky in a way that many seeds can be (I am reminded of sweaty cumin, celery seed, and fenugreek, although none of these are present). There is a sense of the field and of the barnyard, and you realize hay has been a part of that impression all along. I will admit that this hay, to my mind, has been soaked in urine, but what could be more wholesome or natural? Violet and apricot join the scene. The soft violet wedded to dusty coriander and the just-present apricot note (think vintage, I wonder if it is one of the so-called fruity aldehydes at play) give the impression of glaucous globularity. More Dutch still life grape than apricot in overall effect, the scene here feels more an allegory of autumn than summer, when the early apricot (its name derives from the same root as “precocious”) is at its peak. But I betray myself — hay too is a summer crop. Nonetheless, Violette Hay seems best to fall. Perhaps it is the haze of the vernal time-traveler violet that tears us out of a realistic sensory world and casts a purple elegiac light over the composition that brings to mind shortening days. Violette Hay does not project intensely, but that feels right both because it is a study in subtle shades and because of its inheritance of restrained masculinity of the fougère genre. Overall, an extremely interesting, provocatively androgynous twist on both the fougère and the contemporary “agrestic” genre.

when the earth finally burns up like a matchstick, i want to be lying in a pile of violette hay. i don't care if the ground turns magma red beneath my toes, or if my fingers turn grey when i touch them to my lips, covered in ash. beyond the fear of the moment is always an unassailable belief in beauty, and violette hay is as beautiful as a cream white dove. yet my superstitious nose picks up mostly on the perfume's blackened, twilight notes — the leather and the smoke. violette hay makes me feel these melancholy things, like i'm surrounded by wet suede, sifting through a charred flower field. where i am, every violet's heart is made of bone. mice nibble on tender apricot blossoms and saffron, mixing their soft grease with the plants' sticky honey. it's dirty, and i am unreal. we are vampires. we are animals bleeding on the inside. our warmth, which also comes from within, stops us from losing it entirely. even still, i think i'm close to giving in to the flames on the floor. then i notice a puddle of wild violets up ahead. if i squint just right, it's as gold as heaven.

This is the first time I've put on a perfume and immediately thought "This is it. This smells how I feel most of the time." It's almost alarming because I've been searching for a decade for this without really knowing what to look for. I can definitely understand why some people might complain about how light and self-contained it is. Sometimes being inoffensive is offensive. The first time I tried it was a few hours before bedtime. So light and watery (smells like dew throughout on me) that I thought the story would not play out, but all the notes gradually unfolded. The violet and apricot are reassuring together. In the morning my wrists still smelled faintly of dewy hay with a bit of suede. A skin scent for sure. Gentle and quiet. I think certain personalities are going to gravitate toward this and others will be bored or even irritated that they got a sample. As fun as Marissa's scents are, I definitely wouldn't blind buy any of them. This isn't something I'd wear at work or for a night out. It's just for ME. It's what I'll wear during days at home.

From the bottle, this opens with a beautiful photorealistic suede note and a clean hay, reminiscent of a consignment store leather jacket. Leathers and leather-adjacent tend to pull very pickle-y on my nose, but this is the first one where it just doesn't. Wonderfully done. It moves smoothly into a sweet, fresh, almost baby-powdery tone. I'd compare it to Glossier You after a few hours of wear or the faint sillage of Mugler's Alien, but almost fluffier and whiter. There's an afterthought of spice, but a fresh, aromatic one, likely from the coriander. I found this perfume warms up on the skin, with the powdery notes almost giving way to a sweet, nutty scent, like a rice milk or a mild marzipan. Gorgeous perfume with a stunning bottle. Simple enough to wear during the day, but classy with juuuuust enough of an edge to wear out at night. My girlfriend sprayed it on herself before she left for work, and hours later, I'm still smelling it as I sit in the bedroom.

This is a mystical and entrancing scent. It’s light but there’s a beautiful glow to it more than a brightness. The carrot seed and coriander stood out to me on first spritz then sauntered in the violet note. It really caught me off guard because it wasn’t truly floral it was a sort of spice and earthiness to it which I attribute to the carrot and coriander, then the dry down and middle notes played a more sensual role, I get more of that apricot and saffron which really made it earthy and juicy. Then the grounding with suede and musk. It’s a bewitching experience. I couldn’t stop smelling it, I would consider this full bottle worthy. I’m eager to smell petrichor as I hear violette and petrichor are almost like sister scents and I love to pair.

returning to this one bc I've been rationing out what precious little is left of my sample, and thinking hard about how it feels aside from the immediate association with xiangbao. Violette Hay smells like an impressionist painting. Really. I feel like I’m inhaling the sweet air of daydreams while slumbering in a bed of soft hay. The hay tickles the nose; it’s warm and fragrant like a quilt fresh out of the dryer. i don't know how violets smell (or anything else tbh) but here it is: the sweetly curving stems, the darling petals, the wonder in its heart as it peers out at the world. so lovely.

"she will come, clad in blue and surrounded by fields of gold......" oh my god. this is the exact scent of the 香包 sewn by my 四老姨 when I was in middle school. I'm 11 years old again, cupping in my hands a tiny cotton doll whose head smells of: red silk brocade, golden thread, puffy mandarin-shaped pillows, tins of herbal candies, PVC mosquito curtains, sleeping on bamboo pillowmats, being plied with herbal medicine, and opening the door to someone I love dearly. Precious, homey, and a little sweet. 虽然我对她并没有什么记忆,但这香味儿永远印在我心间,to me this is the scent of familial love and warmth ... (≧_ ≦)

Soft and snuggly but still a bit bright. It’s a powdery, musky hay that feels like a lightly saturated ochre yellow hue. There is a little sweetness, apricot and violet? Is that you? But mostly it’s snuggly powdery hay and musk with an herbal fluffy edge. There is a peppery edge too, like the way a carnation is peppery. The more I wear it, the more it grows on me. It’s supremely comforting and reminds me of soft rabbits bounding in the summer sun and kicking up hay, carnations, and grasses as they nibble on carrots.

i mostly get apricot and suede here (which i love) and despite it remaining a skin scent for the majority of the time i can still get whiffs of it every now and then. nice for weather that’s a little bit warmer and more crisp; i think this would theoretically also be a perfect summer scent, but i haven’t gotten to test it in hotter weather yet. plush and creamy with only a hint of fruity sour-sweetness, and the more spicy/musky/earthy notes shape this into a floral that i would actually wear...

I throw off my leather gloves after a long day at the stable and lay on a bed of hay, watching the still, sleeping lake. The moon shines overhead, casting a delicate silver glow that shimmers on the water and reflects against a million dewdrops clinging to the grass and flowers. A cold breeze carries through the brisk Autumn air, yet I am wrapped in an inexplicable warmth. And I hear nothing but the nocturnal chorus of katydids. Heaven on earth — by way of Violette Hay.

I cannot believe how much I love this one and how long it has taken me to finally get a sample. Petrichor’s little sister. She is more powdery and sweet, whereas petrichor is more earthy and dark. Goth daughter vs only wears pastels daughter. It changes incredibly fast in my nose and the spicy kick of the start quickly becomes a wet pile of hay in a misty mountain surrounded by dewy violet flowers. Soft and shy, classy and intriguing!!!

the opening is so effervescent, which I can probably attribute to the apricot, saffron, and coriander. violette hay draws you in with its softness, like nuzzling into the crook of your loved one's neck while dawn trickles into the bedroom. the hay and suede are more textural than anything else, whereas the musk pulls strong for me. easily in the top 2 of my fave releases coming out of the garden collection!

Oh...I adore this. I am a huge violet fan and this is all candied violet with an earthy spice underneath to keep it from being too sweet. I get no powder like I do with La Violette and zero hay. It projects well on my skin and I keep sniffing my wrists.

Nice subtle pretty scent that sticks close, possibly a good work fragrance for summer. It's probably not something I would wear Going Out, but it's quiet and gentle and not too loud. (I got a 2 ml sample sprayer from the perfumer's website fyi)

I'm a fan of fresh, sweet innocent violet scents -- this is not that, and I love it all the more because of it. This takes violet in an earthy direction that is uniquely alluring. IG: @personal_scent_bubble

An ideal bedtime fragrance for me. It is warm, comforting, and mellow. Clearly floral and powdery, with a subtle note reminiscent of vintage rubber toys.

This went on the FB list pretty quickly.

I blind bought a full bottle of this because I Never Learn. I've been on a hunt for the perfect hay scent and after reading an abundance of reviews I convinced myself this was it. For reference I don't generally seek out powdery scents. I also don't have much experience with violet being a main character, so it's presence here certainly felt like a brand new experience for my nostrils. On the first spray I got pure baby power. The scent faded pretty quickly, so I reapplied in hopes of catching some of the other notes. On the second application I did get more of a candied sweetness, I can find a subtle fruity tang from the apricot, the earthiness of the carrot seed. Hay nowhere to be found. It's definitely quite feminine and reads to me as a clean earthy smell. My main hangup is that so many people seemed to agree that this was giving like, an almost uncomfortable amount of hay. I am crushed to report I detect virtually no hay... And I, once again, am reminded how differently we all perceive what we're smelling, and how differently things smell on each of us.. It wasn't love at first sniff for me, but I am intrigued and it continues to grow on me. I find myself searching for the scent as it starts to become more subtle, which is under an hour for me unfortunately :(

Sunlit mist. Dewdrops on lace. Jane Eyre in pastel chintz. I wasn’t in love with the first accord – a damp baby wipe ionone akin to L’Eau d’Hiver – but within a minute it turns earthen and green. That olfactory 180 is perhaps one of the most bewitching I’ve encountered. The hay is young, just beginning to yellow. Alfalfa-y? And there’s the most incredible raw suede note, like the underside of a well-worn bridle and reins. Once a horse girl, always a horse girl. Violette Hay is like the outdoor version of Dream Sequence’s greenhouse garden. It has a pensive, spectral quality to it, longevity included. If it stuck around any longer than two hours I'd buy a full bottle just for bedtime. Mental Snapshot: A morning hack through wildflower meadows. You’re riding a dapple grey cob, with a plaited mane and silvery fetlocks. A unicorn in full tack. She grazes on the dew-stippled rushes, and you drink straight from a whispering stream. Memories of pony club, though a lavender lens. tl;dr: cottagecore petrichor 🎠🌾

Violet AND Hay? Why, bust my buttons, count me in! I am entirely new to Marissa Zappas and her work but this is a relatively strong entry for me. I love both violet and hay accords in fragrance, and Zappas does, for the most part, deliver on her word here. This pastoral pleasure includes a carrot seed that adds a certain 'salt of the earth' effect. My only gripe is that for all its aquarelle beauty, it eludes a bit too soon for my liking—and I am by no means obsessed with performance. It leaves me wanting more: maybe just a bit more density, just a slightly sharper outline to the sweet-grassy scented hay. The apricot and suede pairing does remind me of the ravishing Daim Blond from Serge Lutens, but here they are diaphanous even compared to DB. Be that as it may, I am open to exploring more from Zappas.