Romanza

The top notes of this green floral perfume are mugwort, orange blossom and angelica; heart notes are narcissus, sambac jasmine and violet leaf; the base notes are myrrh, vetiver, cedar, patchouli, civet and an amber accord. The bitterness of the opening, brought by mugwort and angelica, refers to absinthe, late 19th century drink par excellence. This lively green opening slowly softens with the arrival of indolic orange blossom and jasmine which add sensuality to the fragrance, without completely attenuating its greenness - which now darkens all the same. This greenness is also accentuated from time to time by the violet leaf which pierces the heart of the fragrance with its tender green and metallic tip, contrasting with the deep tone which will be that of the perfume until it fades. A note similar to creosote is also noticeable. The narcissus — whose carnal and animal accent is amplified by civet — then takes center stage and makes this complex perfume dedicated to a spring flower a paradoxical evocation of the heart of summer. I imagine a meadow in which cut and dry hay, slightly moistened by the morning dew and heated by the rays of the sun, release its herbs and chamomile scents which mingle with those of the flowers laden with golden pollen bordering this meadow, announcing the honey to come. The dominant colors are now yellow and ocher, although green has still not disappeared. Romanza testifies to an opposition between the dark-humid and the solar-dry which could be associated with the duality inherent to greek goddess Persephone (who is intimately related to the narcissus flower); a six months underground existence in the Underworld near the Styx, bringing Winter to the terrestrial world; then six months of an aerial and solar existence in Olympus, which bring the warm months. Outside, the regenerative spring is here, but death and corruption are not far away...

Romanza is such a poetic perfume. Created by Cristiano Canali for Masque Milano. This one made me follow Canali's work closely and he sure is talented. But in my opinion, this is still his best composition thus far. It is the only perfume from the house that really impressed me enough to not only own a bottle but a backup as well. It's a sultry Victorian floral perfume with a dirty, edgy, resinous base. Bourgeois afternoons, classical music, good wine, and lust in the air. It is a perfume of transitions, from innocence to sin. Quite a dramatical evolution, from the green, spring-like opening and the fleeting burst of absinth, to the rich narcissus-loaded floral bouquet in the heart. And oh, how ravishingly beautiful the narcissus is. Playing on its honeyed, grassy, and indolic facets. Harmonized with the help of a metallic-green violet leaf, an innocent hyacinth, sultry jasmine, and waxy beeswax. The base heats up with resins, cedarwood, and lots of civet, completing the fall into sin, imminent from the very first gaze. It is a brilliant evolution, and one would not believe that something that started as inoffensive could end up so pagan. If you try this perfume in-store and purchase a bottle on the spot, I don't know what to say. You'll either love it for how much more it has to unveil or be simply repulsed but how unashamed it is in truth. For Narcissus lovers and vintage perfume lovers, romantic-minded ones, and maybe even agrestic lovers, this is one to try. I can draw a parallel to a similar composition, in style, not in smell, the infamous Une Fleur De Cassie. IG: @memory.of.scents

Romanza is a beautiful, delicate, narcissus-dominant spring floral, with detectable myrrh sweet-spiciness in the base, and maybe a touch of ashy or dry-branches darkness. It reminds me of Diorissimo in spirit tbh; that inexpressible tenderness, that evocation of the first soft breeze of spring. Of course, Romanza is built around narcissus rather than muguet, and it’s not as syrupy-rich, but the feeling is similar. Also like Diorissimo, Romanza has a breath of civet floating above the flowers, buff against the pale yellows and pink-purples. Adds an old-fashioned perfumey feel. The other vintage scent that Romanza brings to mind is Futur, a 60s spring floral with a similar butter-yellow/pale-purple/beige palette. But Futur is clear as a bell and sharply aldehydic, while Romanza is softer, more nuanced, and sits on a richer base. Over time Romanza reveals a mellow, yellow, narcissus-and-amber-and-civet glow that goes close to the skin and lingers as the spring flowers float away. Romanza is basically a hazy, retro, narcissus-heavy floral reverie, but more scuffed-up and wearable than its actual vintage inspirations. The myrrh and animalic touches make it a bit earthier and deeper than spring florals usually get, while still retaining the poignant loveliness of the first mild day in April. A spring floral with heart, guts, and a functioning sex drive; one of the all-time greats.

Ahhh...this is so unisex and sexy. It fits its backstory from the brand notes very well. The scene I was transported to is very similar: It’s just like waking up at dawn in a beautiful baroque mansion/palace/estate in Tuscany or France buried deep in the countryside. The dew is still in the surrounding garden along with the mist and birds. There was a wild house/garden party the night before, the green fairy made an appearance and the whole thing was a magical joyful blur through the rooms of that place- the balconies, the libraries, guestrooms, hallways... The bedroom is alabaster white ceiling to floor with high arches and windows. White bedsheets are ruffled and clothes are tossed everywhere and there's a white linen canopy around the bed pulled open and lifting gently in the faintest morning breeze. You hooked up with someone and he was wearing a white shirt (of course). You smell his cologne on you mixing with your floral perfume. Maybe you take a few steps outside in the garden wearing that white shirt or maybe your bodies are naked and tangled still barely stirring awake. You haven't had a shower yet but the temperature is so perfect you don't feel too sweaty from the night before. You just feel wild, blissful and natural.

Nothing for me is quite like leaning in to enjoy the scent of the Poet's Narcissus (Narcissus poetica). This garden heirloom with its creamy white petals and abrupt corona, yellow with red trim, is prized not only for its beauty but for its spellbinding, unconventionally pretty fragrance. In Romanza, I am reminded of these blooms as they awaken on the crest of spring. I detect a wormwood and anise at the start, elevating and sublime, then the narcissus accord immediately unfurls and its that light shade of creosote typical of these flowers, sealed with honey and beeswax. A fleshy indole surfaces, and a jasmine and hyacinth is an attending chorus to the narcissus in this stage. It's anchored with a deep-green leafiness and suggestions of musky, bitter angelica root. The shift into the dry down is where the animalic and sensuous nature bares down on this effulgent cottage garden, sharp, shifting cedar and stewing sacred resins, something civet-like, yet creamier and more bulbous, “the love that dare not speak its name" has its voice here, lurking in the twilight. Romanza is enchanting.