Dryad

I purchased samples of a bunch of "witchy" fragrances to play with this fall, and many of them are lovely, but better suited to candle scent than personal fragrance, IMHO. Dryad is different...something in it hearkens back to a scent memory I can't particularly place, but is instantly familiar. I'm pretty sure I smell my mother's skin, and it made me tear up upon first sampling it out of joy at the remembrance (she's been gone for over a decade). That's only happened one other time in my entire life, so it immediately makes Dryad a necessity for me. There's a sweaty skin/musky hair element that you would think might be unpleasant, but in combination with the herbs, citrus, vetiver, and balsam creates an olfactory image of Celtic ladies dancing around a fire in a stone circle wearing white robes and burning sage. The florals seem like bit players in this composition to me, just meant to enhance, but not define. Oakmoss must have played prominently in someone's cologne or perfume who was dear to me (not my mother; her signature was Poison) bc I instantly feel safe and loved when I detect it here. The whole experience makes me want to don a flowing green gown, wear a crown of eucalyptus leaves, and go dance among the trees at midnight, in the hopes of communing with the spirits of those I've loved and lost. The fragrances I find FBW typically fall into one of three categories. Some are just purely delightful and personally preferred as an olfactory experience, some I buy for educational purposes (something iconic, representative, or universally lauded), and still others are a mind trip, bringing back some long lost memory, experience, or emotion (always positive, I'm not into self-torture). I didn't smell Dryad and audibly sigh, like I do with those that delight, but I was immediately taken down an emotional memory lane, and it's one I will want to tread again and again, so I suppose once my sample is used up I'll be placing an order. EDIT: While I like to read reviews, they aren't always the main driver of fragrance selection for me (I tend to enjoy some fragrances lots of folks hate, anyway). But incidentally, I was flipping through Luca Turin's book of perfume reviews from 2018 (after I sampled Dryad), and he rated this one 4 stars (out of 5, and he RARELY gives anything a 5 star rating), calling it a well-done, modern chypre, and praising the perfumer for her adept use of galbanum. So it at least must be unique and well-structured, making it worth a sample (if you appreciate Mr. Turin's take on things, that is). EDIT: Definitely a keeper. My husband (who, when asked if he likes a perfume I'm trying out, usually says, "It smells like perfume.") and my kids all love this one on me. I told my young son I thought maybe it would be too funky for most people to enjoy and he buried his sweet little face in my neck and said, "It smells good funky. Like you went jogging in a forest!". I always wear what I love but sometimes have to compromise on the when and where depending on the who, out of respect for their senses (my SIL can only stand the gauziest of florals, for example), so it's a bonus to have the olfactory approval of this gem from those with whom I spend the most time,

Dryad feels and smells like an emerald jewel. And considering current restrictions, Liz has done an amazing job here, conveying a true chypre. Dryad feels decidedly vintage. Think countryside, enchanted forests, Irish folclore. It feels like something a posh Aliage would wear, or something a bohemian Vol de Nuit would use on the weekends. But I also smell similarities to Miss Dior. The opening is like a breath of fresh air. Fully loaded on herbs and galbanum, it somehow feels alpine in its coolness. Here, I kinda envision Dario Argento’s ‘Phenomena’, and it’s opening scene on the Swiss alps. This invigorating green beauty continues, as the floral heart joins the party. What I mostly smell here is a carnal narcissus and a slightly medicinal yet sweet lavender, which however doesn’t take over. The rest of the floral notes are so well blended that they simply enhance a ‘french core’; it smells just like a vintage floral smelt, when notes were so well blended that you simply smelt a whole. There’s a slight smell of unwashed hair, courtesy of costus, that makes me think of fingers caressing your lovers hair the morning after. It’s nothing short of wonderfully erotic. The base notes show an outstanding degree of old time oakmoss galore, and it amazes me how potent it smells given the low amount permitted. Along the way there are aldehydes, fruity sparkle without smelling fruity, a wonderful powdery iris and a leather feel, just like in Miss Dior. I’d call it a sparkling chypre, a powdery floral green. It smells decidedly like an old Guerlain, without feeling like one; it has the quality of one, made with true vision. And no one makes perfumes with ‘vintage Guerlain’ quality anymore, so this is a compliment to Liz’s skills. It also feels happy, vivacious. It’s not as serious as most chypres are, there’s a youthful quality here in the sense of exuberance. I love how it maintains throughout its development a dirty shadow, with civet and castoreum playing along (they’re there, guaranteed) a wonderful powdery iris. And I love that it focuses on all shades of green without losing focus. Flowers come second. If you have a collection of vintage chypres and greens you probably don’t need this. But then again, smelling a freshly bottled one, a real one, hasn’t happened since the late 80’s. So, for me, it’s a necessity since you can never have enough chypres. Excellent sillage and longevity and FBW!

پاپیون جزء خانه های عطرسازی است که نوآوری و ساختارشکنی اش در عطر بسیار زیاد و حرفه ای و برای من تو این زمینه بی همتاست. تاجایی که هنوز بعد از سالها بهترین عطر انمالیک برای من، عطر سالومه از همین برند هست. برندی که هیچوقت نواوری و شجاعت در خلق رایحه های جدید رو فدای تولید زیاد نکرد. اول از همه بگم که عطر کاملا بهاره و تابستانه هست ولی خنک و فرش نیست پس گول نت های گلی و مرکباتی رو نخوردید ولی می تونم اطمینان بدم متفاوت ترین عطر بهاری و تابستانی هست که تا الان داشتید. بلافاصله بعد از اسپری کردن، حجم عظیمی از روایح گیاهی (نه سبز)، تلخ و خشک به شما هجوم میاره مثل اینکه یه دسته علف و گیاه تازه چیده شده رو با برگ و ساقه، تو دست تون با فشار و مالش له کنید و بوش رو استشمام کنید. درکنار این رایحه یه خشکی زیاد که از بینی تا گلو حس میشه رو اضافه کنید. عطار تمام تلاشش رو بکار برده تا مخاطب خشکی که به نحوی از اسم عطر استنتاج میشه رو کاملا حس کنید. البته عطار یه کار دیگه هم کرده و اون اموزش رایحه گالبانیوم هست. چون بخش زیادی از توصیفات بالا ازگیاهی و تلخی این نت بوجود میاد. تا الان هیچ عطری رو تست نکردم که این حجم زیاد از گالبانیوم توش استفاده شده باشه و بعید هم می دونم وجود داشته باشه. تمام این هیاهوی اولیه بسرعت فروکش می کنه و رایحه عطر بعد از چند دقیقه با اضافه شدن روایح سبزمعطر بسمت تعادل و با قوی ترشدن خزه بلوط به سمت خاکی شدن میره. وقتی عمرعطر به نیمه خودش میرسه کمکم راویح گلی و معطر که بیشتر ازهمه توش گل نرگس حس میشه خودنمایی می کنه، نرگس در شکل انیمالیک خودش در این عطر بکار رفته و رایحه ای گرفته و اسیر و کاملا محدود شده با روایح سبز و گیاهی است پس انتظار یه نرگس شفاف و چیزی که شبیه کارنال فالاور باشه رو اصلا نداشته باشید در درای داون و اواخر عمر عطر همه چیزدارید هم یه حالت شیمیایی و معطر و هم می تونید حالت هایی از پودری و خاکی و گلی رو باهمدیگه و کاملا متعادل شده در مقادیر کم داشته باشید و اون رایحه گیاهی و تلخ جای خودش رو به یه شیرینی میوه مانند میده. ماندگاری عطر روی پوست زیاد ولی پخش متوسطی داره در پایان این عطری نیست که بشه بلایند بای انتخابش کرد که حتی اگه دنبال یه عطر عامه پسند هستید و می خواید از عطرتون بین مردم عادی بازخورد بگیرید هم دنبال تستش نباشید ولی اگه از تست عطرهای نیش زیاد و شبیه بهم خسته شدید و عطش تست یه شاهکار متفاوت و شگفت انگیز رو دارید که روح عطریتون رو برای مدتی به آرامش برسونه این عطر شماست، از کشف ظرافت ها، ریزه کاری ها و بی نقص بودنش لذت خواهید برد. پ.ن: توصیف بالا مربوط به اولین نسخه تولیدی این عطر است. *همیشه شاد و معطر باشید*

Galbanum and bergamot, the standard chypre formula top notes, pungent cool, and some neutral Fougère elements correct Dryad's position on the gender spectrum to bring it into balance. Clary Sage, Thyme, and, because of the aromatic plant Tarragon, which is similar to the smell of fennel, the top note of Dryad is sweet, and the herbal sense comes from galbanum. The sweetness of this grass is paved for the appearance of narcissus, forming a dry and verdant green. The soft orris root, pressed by the narcissus, never looked up, but I knew it was there. Oakmoss? Is there really no such thing? Orange blossom is always fresh and clear, and vetiver is also tough, containing the power of the earth. Asafoetida, which is not written in the fragrance table, is mixed with Cistus, which naturally isolates a base of gum and resin. Once the goblin in the tree sings, it must be as long and moving as Dryad. Half natural, half chemical. With this kind of persistence, often, great works are created unexpectedly. Dryad is made of excellent materials, solid in structure, rich in content, and extremely finished. It's sour, it's bitter, it's oily, it's clear, all dryad. This Dryad is almost as good as the peak of the chypre at the time - it definitely has the quality of the second-tier work. You can smell Mitsouko, you can smell Givenchy III, N°19, and even a hard-to-find bottle of Vent vert. For me, the question of whether Dryad is original or not is explained this way: Liz Moore dared to really approach and absorb the goodness of these perfect works, so, Dryad did not leave the framework of chypre, it is certainly a member of the typical chypre, And you have to pay attention to one thing - not many companies are willing to make such retro fragrances anymore. Dryad is an art that goes against the trend, its meaningful existence, symbolizing the perfume industry's nostalgia for the lost golden age, so Dryad is different. Dryad is the reincarnation of N°19, with the blood of the orthodox chypre. It now locks the beautiful soul and breath of the old era into this new body, and then returns to people with memories. Dryad is more intimate with me, he understands that chypre is my life, and Dryad probably loves me as much as I love it.

Now this is a gorgeous 10 out of 10 green chypre fragrance that lasts over ten hours on my skin. It is one of the most complex scents I have experienced as there is so much going on. On the opening I'm getting green hay, galbanum, oakmoss and then these floral parma violets take over. If you remember those parma violet candies as a kid well it smells like that but it's really beautiful. Lot's of earthy forestry smells with floral elements. It's very mossy just how I like my Chypre fragrance's. It really keeps your nose on it's toes so to speak.lol........ Big wow for me with this one, the quality just shines through. Did not think they made them like this anymore but here we are. After about three hours or so I could pick up more of notes tobacco, iris, furry musk, vetiver and the oakmoss is to die for if you love the accord. Such a mossy warmth infused with the spirit of the forest. lol....... don't mean to get poetic there but if you smell this scent you will know what I mean. It's glorious! What is very interesting is the constant shifting of the notes upon the skin. Every time you smell the fragrance you can pick up different notes and it constantly changes as time goes by. A example of this is I sprayed my chest and wrist and several hours into the drydown both areas smelled different. The scent from my chest area smelled like fresh iris and on my wrist I was picking up smoky green vetiver. And then nine to ten hours into the drydown it changed again smelling like the drydown of Knize Ten. Giving you sweet powdery floral accord, really heavenly. All in all this is a fantastic perfume taking you on quite the journey through a enchanted forest as it constantly shifts and evolves on your skin. This fragrance is like a tribute to the old greats like the Guerlains of yesteryear. A massive thumbs up and then some from me. Love it!

Some fragrances are beautiful; others possess an unmistakable, exceptional beauty. Dryad belongs firmly in the latter category for me. Many creations from this house share that same sense of distinction; special, deliberate, and deeply evocative. At its core, Dryad is a green chypre. Its only real point of overlap with Hera lies in the narcissus note and the opening impression; beyond that, they diverge completely. Dryad is far greener, far mossier, unique and decidedly darker. If I were to associate it with a mythological figure, Circe would come to mind; but there is an even more fitting image: To me, Dryad is the scent of a forest witch. She lives deep in the woods, in a home overtaken by greenery and thick layers of moss. Inside, thousands of vials line the walls; each potion different, each formula serving a distinct purpose (many of them sinister). She is sharp-minded enough to memorize every recipe. No one knows how long she has existed; even the oldest memories seem to include her. Through her elixirs, she wields a powerful allure: coppery, wavy hair; piercing green eyes. Leather gloves and a worn leather satchel. A crown woven with narcissus rests on her head, and her muslin dress echoes the same green hues as her gaze. She gathers herbs in the dark, crushes them at home, and the rest is pure alchemy. Setting the imagery aside, the notes that stand out most; beyond the narcissus; are galbanum, earthy vetiver, and an abundance of oakmoss. What lingers at the very end is iris: a clear powdery presence that never disrupts the green chypre structure. The result feels both nostalgic and modern at once; marginal, dark, slightly damp, and profoundly deep. Like a mystical forest distilled into scent. I loved it; unquestionably and completely. Tag(s): Witch, forest, deep, dark, mossy, masterpiece

Chypre. An infamous genre amongst my generation because it's outdated: it's more formal, moody, elegant, stiff and sometimes not easy to pull off. Fragrances like Mitsouko, Vol de Nuit, Bandit, Chanel n°19 and Cristalle, Miss Dior (original) come to mind (not because they're alike but they share that chypre/floral/green aspect that's similar in mood) and nowadays the younger crowds repell them. I'm 32 and currently I'm sick of these days sweet, generic and boring fragrances. I began to explore vintage fragrances. Fell in love with all the above but found them hard to wear in my everyday life. Turned into niche as well. Fell in love with Papillon, I would own every single fragrance of Papillon (the sex goddess Salome, the sensuous Tobacco Rose, the cute lipsticky Angelique, the dominatrix Anubis) but my budget is low. So, out of the range my favourite is, clearly, Dryad. Dryad is a beauty. It does have a retro chypre green vibe but it's so easy. Easy to feel, easy to wear. Adequate to every situation. Great for Spring and Summer and I'm sure in cooler weather would be perfect. It starts with a breath of lush green galbanum and narcissus (so good) that is envolved with the oakmoss and woody notes. It's gentle, it wraps you on a wonderful scent that stays for about 6 hours (more on clothes). It's a walk on a forest and you fully understand the concept of Dryad. It's elegant, but more like boho chic elegant. Retro but modern. Green and gold. My favourite and I'm making it my signature. Yes, this nymph of a green forest that turns golden has conquered my heart. Thank you, Liz Moores!

Oh my god. Oh. My. God! So, I have been into perfume for many years and have recently been obsessed with vintages... and many of us know the struggle it is to truly find a fragrance from a bygone era that has held up completely, usually the top notes are off, it seems. I have been reading all these ridiculously florid and overwrought reviews on Papillon fragrances and thinking how ridiculous people are but—today I got a package of decants of every single one of this house’s offerings. Today I chose Dryad, because it’s springtime and it’s beautiful outside. I dabbed a few drops on my wrists and as I sit here in my backyard in all the greenery and bees and hummingbirds and watching my rescue dogs frolic and play while I tap out a review on my phone and inhale the deliciously earthy, sweet aroma emanating from my skin and mingling with the lush and blooming world around me... I /am/ a Dryad. This is unlike anything I’ve ever sprayed or dabbed on myself, I feel like how my beautiful silly dogs feel after rolling around in the weeds and flowers and chasing each other across the acre we live on while butterflies dance out of their way. I get it. Papillon, Liz Moores... her creations are worth all the hype and more. This is the experience that launched all the thousand ships of glorious perfume history from Guerlain, Houbigant, Molinard, Chanel... rich, natural concoctions of the living world that transport and transform and take you on a journey and light up your neurons. I am so happy I could cry! I can’t wait to try the rest of my samples.

If Salome is Liz Moores at her most transgressive, Dryad is Liz Moores at her most herself — which is to say, living in the New Forest with animals and children and what I imagine is an extremely well-developed relationship with the smell of rain on oak leaves. A dryad is a tree nymph. She has been living in that forest since before you arrived and she will be there long after you leave and she does not especially need you to understand her. This is the correct energy for this fragrance. Dryad opens on galbanum — sharp, green, unapologetically botanical — and then the clary sage and tarragon arrive and suddenly it is 1967 and the fragrance is invoking Miss Dior and vintage Vol de Nuit and everything in French perfumery that IFRA has been trying quietly to bury for thirty years. The narcissus and jonquil in the heart are the moment the fragrance stops being a reference and becomes itself. Damp green florals with something just underneath them — costus, which smells faintly, unmistakably alive — and oakmoss throughout the whole composition like the forest floor you are standing on. It never gets loud. It never performs. It simply continues to be what it is for hours on end with the quiet confidence of something that has been growing in one place for a very long time. People who smell Dryad on you will not be able to name it. They will say you smell amazing and look slightly puzzled. This is the correct response to a tree nymph.

A really lovely and quite natural smelling green Chypre with hints of fougere and animalics peeking out here and there. This is foresty. Extremely foresty without being coniferous or overly dark. This is all about balance: the moss and galbanum against sparkly citrus with a juicy apricot-like narcissus in the heart. The narcissus is framed with orange blossom and Iris, holding it down on either side and a benzoin/amber base. The real surprise here is the costus against the herbs which brings out a lightly musky/unwashed tinge to the whole affair. If your skin amplifies these notes, it seems to ruin the whole affair, giving several other reviewers a “pissy”/“offensive” reaction. I see the Vol de Nuit comparison but this one is hazier and more spare. The whole thing comes at you through a veil. My bottle comes across to me as very shy. Some reviewers find it overly loud. A high percentage of naturals means this could be batch variation or different levels of sensitivity to different ingredients in different reviewers. If you love chypres give this a try. If not, probably an easy miss. Nothing groundbreaking, here, though Luca Turin seems to think there is something very interesting and novel going on... I’m just not enough of a chemist to understand what that might be. Probably too subtle for me to get without a seminar. Still it doesn’t need to be a breakthrough. Just very nicely done perfume from a small British perfumer.

Liz Moores has done it again. This perfume is precisely the cure for anxiety induced by traffic, concrete, light pollution, and urban malaise. Imagine a forest carpeted in the lushest, most glorious emerald-green oakmoss, kissed by silvery fog and golden light gently filtered through the living treetops. Gloriously dainty ionones from the violets slowly release as you stray from the central path, crushing the tiny flowers beneath bare feet. Kneeling reverently before the sacred tree, sweet clary sage and galbanum and a resinous herbal warmth emanate from these dewed surroundings, enveloping you in what feels like faerie-magic. Out of the corner of your eye appears a flash of bare skin, soft against the rough tree bark, sending a ripple of delicate musk echoing muted beneath the dewed green. Instinctively, you pull the supple brown leather tighter around your shoulders, and slowly close your eyes, opening your senses to the living, breathing forest around you, enveloping you, this lushly persisting earthy, inflorescing, photosynthesizing wilderness, untamed yet balanced, wild and refined simultaneously, nature left to her own clever devices, a blessing. A gift. She was here before all of us. And she shall endure when we are long gone. That delicate musk again wafting closer, heated, she whispers in your ear, "Welcome home."

What stories artfully made perfumes can tell. To illustrate a scene so legibly, so palpably, through smell, is something far more profound than even the most fervent of perfume enthusiasts seem to soft-pedal in their considerations. Dryad is a work that rivals the grandest of green chypres from the mid-20th century, but Liz Moores also delivers more here, harnessing natural materials seemingly fearlessly to a staggering result. Opening with this sharp, thick-stemmed galbanum, of a bright chartreuse hue, and a bold citrus, Dryad is an act of dirty verdancy, a fantasy of forest bathing in the mist. It makes me dream of mossy glens and foxfire shimmering from dark corners. An oily narcissus and unkempt costus have a distinct harmony here, flanked with deliciously pungent leaves. The orris renders the sensation of powder on sweat, while there's somewhere within that's reminiscent of asafoetida. Yet there is a hazy spareness to Dryad further into its dry down that makes it most haunting. I think of wildflowers and herbs are collected and left to dry out as part of a space cleansing. Perhaps something bleak took place in these interiors, but there is solace in this purification of sour, bitter, and savory flavors. Nothing in Dryad is conventionally "pretty," but every moment in its development is beautiful to me.

A damp bale of hay, a freshly cut lawn, dew and thick petrichor in a foggy environment, a lonely and disturbing weeping willow looming, like a green ceiling over the swampland of Louisiana. In Dryad it is a moody Chypre, it is emerald green, vegetal, fresh, sour and moist with a hint of sharp, wet, earth. A massive throbbing galbanum, herbal, veiny, and sappy like a snapped stem fused with young pithy, sour and soapy apricots and oranges. Balanced, sharp, flirtatious with relentless stamina. A significantly potent perfume. Dryad is a decaying forest bed that sees in equal parts the death of many things and the birth of many things. An austere and contemplative olfactory experience that is both frightening and touching at the same time. The competitive and arousing tension of the forest. A fantasy of a virgin wilderness left alone sprawling with beguiling fertility, it is voluptuous and ravenously in heat. A penetrating green sharpness lingers within Dryad's aroma indicative of the green, sharp woods, an untamable body that shall grow to conquer and influence the land infinitely priming it for abundance and fruitfulness. 9.5/10

This is my 2nd review for this perfume. The first time I tried it I was new to perfume. I had read an interview with Liz Moores and became fascinated with her process and just really liked what I had read. So, I ordered samples of all of her perfumes. Dryad was the first one I tried and I hated it. I thought it was too green, too bitter. I tucked the rest of the sample away. Over time, I tried so many types of perfumes and tried samples of all the important vintages. I grew to really appreciate them and loved so many of them, especially chypres. Now, trying the rest of this sample a year later, I’m in love. It has such a beautiful vintage vibe. I love oakmoss, and here the oak moss and galbanum are gorgeous and my favorite part of this perfume. Then the powdery florals take over, I never even noticed this the first wear. This fragrance is definitely not for novices, like I was when I first smelled it. It’s now a love and I want to own this. Great job Liz Moores for creating a perfume that’s modern and vintage at the same time.

Awe what a beautifully made and complex fragrance. I love it from opening to the end. Liz Moores is indeed a very talented perfumer. After Salome I knew I had to buy every perfume she’s made and I do now own them all. What I love is that none of them are copies of eachother as I’ve seen many perfumers do, you can usually tell a perfumers “dna”. But not Liz, every perfume she’s created is unique and beautiful and yes some are challenging but that’s what I love about them. I’m so happy she decided to add the perfume she made for her daughter for her wedding, to the list. I adore a well made floral and this one is also beautiful. Imho any one of Liz’s fragraces is a safe blind buy, to a perfume lover. But if you’re new to Niche then no, sample first. I honestly don’t know where you’d buy a sample. I’ve searched myself. Can’t find any. Max Aroma used to sell decants. But Liz won’t deal with them or any discounter anymore. Hmmm that gives me an idea. Maybe I’ll buy extras and start selling samples and decants.

Dryad is a wonderfully complex and stimulating fragrance, clearly modelled after the golden days of green florals and chypres. It’s incredibly old school and vintage-smelling, as is often the Liz Moores’ style of perfumery - executed to perfection. An array of bitter-green aromatics and herbaceous notes including a hefty dose of galbanum alongside sage, tarragon and thyme kick things off. Sharp citrus and touches of soapy white florals help to round this off, making way for a creamy base of orris and oakmoss. The combination of narcissus and orange blossom is divine, lending to a subtle innocence amongst the strength of the composition. Primarily, this is a green fragrance. The aromatic qualities are powerful and impossible to ignore, which isn’t a bad thing, as it soon smooths out rather well. I would have liked the oakmoss and orris to stand out a little more personally, but overall this is a stunning fragrance and a must try for any lover of classical perfumes.

A kingly green chypre perfect for spring when the relentless force of new growth is breaking through to reach the warming sun, or when dryads start to stir in the woods after their winter hibernation. The main notes for me are a lovely cool, thick galbanum (my all-time favourite note), narcissus, costus and moss. Reviewers are right to call out the similarities with some of the great greens of vintage perfumery but there is so little of this calibre in the market right now that overlaps don't feel inappropriate. The blending of thickening costus and bitter galbanum is inspired. This isn't an aquatic, refreshing EdT, it's a rich, enveloping sillage that could give some vintage extraits a run for their money. I'm wearing it today in the first warm days of spring and it smells so perfect, blowing the cobwebs of winter away. Anyone looking for a contemporary green chypre with a bit of sweep and majesty should stop here.

I sampled this on a lark, and was no expecting all these different notes to hit the way they did. This is magical. It's somewhat medicinal- reminiscent of some of the oil blends I often wear to sleep and relax but also like standing in a meadow at the end of spring and some of the flowers are dying out, it's breezy and there's an orchard nearby that you can't see. It's not sweet, more dry medicinal, calling this green is very misleading- this is not a foresty green, or even really a dry woody - pass if that is what you are hoping for, its aromatic, but not green aromatics, more herbal. . I could really smell the narcissus and oak moss, the orris comes through without being overpowering, I could get the thyme, and the hint of apricots at the end. The combo is so weird, yet so, so good. I knew within 30 seconds I needed a bottle. It has good longevity, without being overpowering. I absolutely love this.

Green animalic vintage treasure It has similarities with "Salome" somehow specially the vintage, and the animalic notes but more on the plants animalic side with sour vintage & slight darkness of the roots (mostly caused by styrax) & sweetened by apricots which makes it sourly sweet and animilated by the narcissus that presents the beautiful appearance & rotten heart. This fragrance presents the beauty of oneself, mostly a villain, with a darkened heart and evil deeds, "Le Chiffre" would be the perfect symbol that presents this fragrance, with his masculine beauty and a rotten heart. Edit (28 July 2017) After few more tests, i just realized that i have sniffed this perfume before, and it's quite VERY similar to "La Nuit" by Paco Rabanne but less honey sweet and more rooty. In short, the unsweetened version of "La Nuit".

Wow. I collect green fragrances so my nose is pretty much highly attuned to what's going on with them. Even a slight variation from a perfume that I already own in a new concoction can send my head spinning in a wonderful way. This little number has done just that. It's an absolute beauty. After that first thwack of galbanum, the perfume quickly warms up and opens up, and a beautiful narcissus emerges, supported by gorgeous, perfectly balanced aromatics. This is accompanied by a buttery orris and a hard to pinpoint mild sweetness. Later, much later, oakmoss shows up and wraps around you like a fuzzy shawl. I tested this with a large collection of high quality samples and it immediately stood out. I left it for a little while, returned to it today, and immediately bought a full bottle. Wonderful.