Niral

Imagine walking into a luxurious bedroom in an old French mansion. Thick and well-cared-for wood paneling on the walls, handmade and hand stitched cloth furniture, a thick and detailed carpet overlaying a polished wood floor, a vase of gentle and beautiful fresh flowers that only reveal their scents when a gentle breeze rolls-in from the open balcony door overlooking well manicured gardens, and in the center of the room sits a large and plush bed. It is draped in hand stitched linens of Indian silk and Egyptian cotton, heavy and soft embroidered down pillows, and almost seeming to vocally invite you to rest your weary head and bones on it. So you do. You sink into the bed and it feels as though you are being swaddled by your mother as a baby. The comfort, familiarity, the skin to skin warmth, sweet milky breath, and the kindest and loving of touches makes the stress of life melt from your body. This is not Apres L’Ondee or Iris Silver Mist. I can hardly smell either one of those without feeling the need to weep. Niral doesn’t want me to weep, it wants me to relax and lose all of my worries in its devoted embrace. Orris is in the starring role, textured like the Indian silk bed linens; cooling, dense, a touch buttery, a touch woody, and endlessly opulent. Red rose adds elegance, richness and depth, and magnolia a bit of creamy and fruity sweetness. This is not anything new, not even from Duchaufour, but where Niral is different is in just how well-judged the proportions of these notes have been dialed in. Simple and intuitive this trifecta may be, I smell a significant amount of effort with excellent materials to try, and try again, to get them just so. Duchaufour sits them very easily and comfortably over Vermeire’s signature base of lactone heavy sandalwood, with a little bit of soft aged leather and a touch of aromatic cedar, a solid and well-made bed frame for these luxurious linens. This isn’t terra incognita, and not really even the silk trade routes bridging India and Europe as it’s claimed to be. Aside from Vermeire’s signature base, I don’t really smell India here, if one can call that "India", but I do smell classic French perfumery. The conclusion by many to simply wave Niral off as a very pleasant yet derivative orris perfume, is, in my opinion, a bit unfair but understandable. I cannot wave it off. Orris with love and comfort, orris silky as butter and dusted with powdered sugar, orris with rich and colorful adorations - I don’t think I have enough of that in my life little alone my perfume collection. Another perfume connoisseur and a friend of mine is one of the ones that waved this off, but one day he smelled it on me and stated "you smell excellent, what is that?" and I replied "something you don't care for." I have a feeling that might be a pretty common reaction to Niral. Smell it on skin; smell it on someone you care for; live with it for a while. Worries, stress, and cares don't wash away via a fleeting piece of paper.

I've been challenging myself lately by getting samples of fragrances I think I won't like based on the note pyramid. I don't review most of them because I feel like it's unfair (if I hate mint, get a sample of a mint-centric perfume, and predictably end up disliking it, what could my perspective possibly add to the discussion?). However, sometimes I stumble upon a fragrance that, despite my initial prejudices, I end up really enjoying. This is one of them. The iris is front and center throughout the evolution of the fragrance. It's a little powdery, but mostly earthy and rich. A whisper of sandalwood adds a sensual, milky warmth to it. The association of the two puts me in mind of the orris sweets sold by perfume.sucks (which, incidentally, I can only encourage everybody to try, they're a bit pricey but well worth it): it smells cosmetic, but in a very alien way it also smells delicious. It makes my brain short-circuit a little and it's quite pleasant. It's also what I had hoped O, Unknown! by Imaginary Authors would be like, so that's an unexpected bonus as well. This central note of iris is bolstered by a delicate leather, which I was happy to find here as I think the animalic tinge it brings is welcome. It's very courteous and genteel but it's unmistakable. It acts as a kind of sweet-salty, slightly musky filter superimposed over the fragrance, and becomes more obvious as the perfume dries down. The cedar note, which to me is not very apparent at first, develops beautifully as the hours tick by. It's delightfully dry and aromatic and gives the fragrance an appealing grain. If Niral were a fabric, I'd be happy to spend extended amounts of time just rubbing it between my fingers. I also smell something like very concentrated, almost bitter liquorice candy, with maybe a molasses (?) element. I believe this might be the intersection of the angelica and the "liqueur" note. It's a bit strange but I'm not mad at it: it gives the fragrance a little bite. The other floral notes, namely rose and magnolia, are definitely present as well, but in an oblique way. To me, they register more as "rose perfume" and "magnolia perfume" than as straight-up rose and magnolia. In other words, to my nose, this fragrance has a "fragrance" note hidden inside of it... Very meta! It made me chuckle a little - given Duchaufour's track record I have to believe the nuance is on purpose. Maybe this is meant to evoke the perfumes worn by Elizabeth Wardle and the ladies of her embroidery society? In any case it's certainly an interesting twist. In short, Niral is a perfume that's all about texture. Like tussar, it's light and luxurious, yet dry and slightly rough. It has a lustrous quality, complemented by a warm glow that evokes the natural golden colour of tussar silk. It's both comfortable and elegant. I doubt I'll ever buy a full bottle but until it runs out, I'll wear my sample with pleasure.

A very beautiful iris perfume, soft, delicate, subtle, and elegant; like most perfumes from this house. If you're looking for a scent that fills a room and makes your presence known before you even arrive, then this isn't the right choice. But if you're looking for a fragrance that envelops you in a sophisticated and very natural floral bubble, you'll find it here. It opens with a powdery blend of iris and rose, with the effervescent, slightly mellow, and fruity touch of champagne. Green tea adds a touch of freshness, and in the background, you can detect soft woods, with that characteristic hint reminiscent of the scent of pencils. It's a linear perfume in which, as the florals fade, a slightly sweet, champagne-like, powdery woody note emerges. It lasts about 4-5 hours on the skin, with moderate projection for the first hour and very soft projection thereafter. It's one of those perfumes that captivates with its beauty rather than its performance, but for me it's one of the most beautiful from both the brand and the perfumer.

Bertrand Duchaufour's magic at work again. Niral is incredibly sophisticated. It perfectly captures the texture of raw silk-there’s a beautiful, powdery iris mixed with tea and a hint of rose. It feels very aristocratic. My only gripe? For this price point, I wish the projection was stronger. It becomes an intimate skin scent after 4 hours on me. Still, an absolute masterpiece of blending

I have Niral and is a very beautiful soft floral where Iris, Magnolia and sandalwood are the prominent notes. The dry down is a gorgeous woody floral and the sillage and longevity are moderate.