Iris Cendre

This is one of the few fragrances that comes close to being signature-worthy for me, given the skill of its composition, its harmony between timeless notes and contemporary aesthetics, its relatively low price point, and its refreshing (but not alienating) uniqueness. All of the fragrances released by Naomi Goodsir are outstanding in all of these areas, but this is my favorite so far, and one of the most wearable. It seems to me that it would theoretically be difficult to marry green notes to smokey ones; they are in some ways polar opposites, and cannot coexist without clashing horribly. Yet it's the union between sappy-rooty iris and subtle incense that acts as the olfactory motor of Iris Cendré. (I've noticed that many sites, including Fragrantica, drop the acute accent on the final letter. It doesn't make a huge difference: "Iris Cendre" would translate to "Iris-Ash" or perhaps "Cinder/Ember-Iris" whereas "Iris Cendré" is closer to "Ashen Iris" or even "Charred Iris", plus there's significant difference in pronunciation. But I digress.) Here, the bridge between the delicate smoke and marginally more assertive iris is a perfectly calibrated tobacco note, which carries both a leafy-herbal side and a pungent-green one. It's this almost invisible yet exquisite parquet that allow the titular iris and ash to dance together. And what a dance! A bit melancholy, of course, but not at all stifling or ecclesiastical; neither the smoke of the bonfire nor that of the priest's censer. The iris brings contemplation, but also hope, the forward-looking glance of spring and growth, pale stalks from the cool, dewy-sweet ashes. Thanks to the wet violet note, it never falls back into pure earthiness, nor desiccates into taut leather or mineralic carrot, as orris sometimes can. I get the barest wisp of labdanum to add some body, but to my nose, the other listed notes aren't individually detectable. I would not call Iris Cendré a complex perfume, but rather an extremely well executed and impeccably balanced one. And despite its tenderness, it's certainly not weak or fleeting. It's one of those fragrances that you can apply decadently and in profusion and it will never inundate the nose. Enrapture it, beckon to it, yes. But with such suavity and grace, the mournful glory of dawn faced with its own dissolution, knowing that high noon is yet to arrive. Timeless, ageless, genderless, best in spring and autumn; crepuscular and nocturnal, certainly. A new favorite, a new friend.

azure flowers slipped under chantilly lace corselette. warm rainfall cried from ashen clouds. tinny church bells hugging under steeple, flèche circled with incense beckoning quiet funerary grace and dusty bible pages. trembling thin wrist in need of nourishment reaching for a silver spoon. damp grass peeping from concrete, shaded by an overcast sky. endlessly elegant, iris cendre is grey silk in a bottle. iris is front and center, clean-cut, cold, and refined, almost austere despite its comforting draw. so full and justified in its presence, it is as if i can reach out and feel its petals—waxy, gummy, and buttery, to the point of becoming what i feel is best described as "chewy." indeed, the scent's silhouette is nearly palpable, and while i may not be able to take a bite out of it, i feel completely nourished each time i smell it on my skin. sweet, dewy violet comes together with iris to lend some softness under dark clouds. incense wafts throughout the air, silver ribbons of smoke softening all that they kiss, with tobacco as the finishing touch, providing a perfect amount of warmth, reminding me that everything will be okay. iris cendre makes me feel underdressed, in need of black lace gloves and a velvet pillbox hat with a veil. regal and sophisticated, yet so gloomy and distant. so strangely sad and happy at the same time, absolutely bittersweet. i find myself craving it on dreary days when raindrops stream down foggy windows, and i think it would be perfect for a less-than-jovial church service. dark and solemn, but hopeful nevertheless. my friend, who recommended that i try it in first place, says that iris cendre is more than just a "good smell," transcending the category of scented-commodity, sharing space with replenishing necessities such as hearty, starchy stews containing radishes, carrots, and other root vegetables. i do find myself craving it periodically, especially in the cold, as if it were a comforting meal from a concerned relative on a winter day, full of much-needed calories. songs for iris cendre: so low by carol, grey skies by turquoise days, telephone by iron curtain, new york grief '86 by princess demeny.

I used to not get a lot of smoke/incense, but now that I own it and can spray it more on me, not just on my arms and neck, I do get the ash. It's a really green opening, and then the incense mixes with the orris, and you get a really unique and beautiful fragrance. The incense, tobacco, iris, and everything is cold and sharp. Edit: I've had it for a few months now, and, first, I don't know what I was on; it's super smoky. The iris here is one of the rare one that ressembles iris silver mist, earthy and rooty, and that's the opening for me, there maybe a lit bit ot citrus, but it's not the main player . The iris stays in, with a lot of incense, and it does get ashy, in a good way. The amber is not that strong for me, luckily and the dry down is a bit mysterious, I am not really able to point at one note. I'd also have to say that Iris Cendré is not as cold as I thought it would be. Not warm, but still not the coldest iris you might find. It's one of my favorite scents in the world, no hyperbole, but it has one thing that weirded me out: it smells terrible on fabric. I was so surprised the first time I noticed it: it smells a bit like Nuit de Bakelite, and I have no explanation for it. For a scent I love that much, it does not evoke anything to me or conjure up any image; it's a pretty dark and mysterious scent. It reads like a really good work around Iris as a component, and I feel like someone who's not into Iris-centric scents would feel left out. The price is harsh; it used to be 150€ for 50 ml, and it's now 180€ for the same amount, and it's a lot., but it's one of the rare perfume I would still buy anyway.

Iris Cendré highlights as many of the facets to come from orris root that can be rendered in one perfume. The distant, aloof coolness is evident; the carrot-rooty earthiness; the violet ionones verging on cosmetic; and the waxy butter dusted with powder. One could argue that this could all be had and more with the seminal Iris Silver Mist; however, Iris Cendré seamlessly enters a warmer, smokier and resinous realm in its development. Violet pastilles by a campfire, and plastic doll heads mingled with clay and dough. Distant cigarette ashes and balsa wood airplane kits bought at Hobbytown. It stimulates memories of numerous childhood memories being fascinated with unusual smells, both from nature and from industry. It's multi-dimensional, but perhaps to a point where it might elude or give discomfort to some. There are a lot of layers here, each a puzzle for the mind. It almost is perceived as a traditional perfume, but then there is a facet coming from leftfield that stops me in my tracks and has me paying attention to it for a while. This doesn't become scented wallpaper, as over a time there is a peculiar wooliness that makes it feel three-dimensional. From damp, green chill to glowing, round cinder, Iris Cendré's movement through time is to me its biggest appeal. It's definitely one for the iris devotee, not the dabbler, because this is no "set it and forget it." It's an immersive experience and a brilliant work from Julien Rasquinet.

According to designer Naomi Goosir, fragrance is another way of expressing raw materials. "My inspiration comes from texture. I do a lot of layers with fabrics and leather, and fragrance is also about texture." Through her perfumes, I was able to gain an in-depth understanding of her creative concept, what the "texture" of her perfumes is, what the raw materials are, and how to convert them into scents. Her and the perfumer's ability to express is perfect. Iris Cendre is directed by Julien Rasquinet. These materials do exist. But not any of the above descriptions, according to the fragrance, time ratio, and feel, I think...it is closer to a violet iris. It is generally not said that this is iris leather or incense iris. This work is not based on vanilla. Iris with a feminine gender spectrum, wear it. Outstanding and elegant temperament, suitable for dresses with chiffon. Amber Cistus base, sweet vegetable oil, I found that it is what we call "labdanum". It can make the powdered orris root and violet smell more oily and smooth without being too dry. The presence of leather, tobacco and incense is not as high as that of orris root and violet. You can smell the difference between primary and secondary, and the supporting roles don't steal the show. A thin layer of powder on the silky overlay of iris and violets, not heavy, but not erratic.