Dandelion

There are those who view the dandelion as a lowly weed, a nuisance, defiling manicured lawns. Then there are those who remember what dandelions meant in childhood: their sunny, bitter-green blooms a familiar sight on ever-warming May days, their funny jagged leaves, and once fruited, something playful and fluffy for which to make wishes. The dandelion is a staple of youth from all temperate regions of the world. There are 'dandelion children,' resilient like the flower, impervious to their environment. I was a 'dandelion child.' I wasn't afraid to get dirty, was always turning over rocks to find whatever creatures sought refuge underneath. Picking up pillbugs, earwigs, worms, and salamanders, I was always fascinating with other living things. And then the plants—the milkweeds that grew on the perimeter of our yard, the wood sorrels that I read in a book were edible and sneak in as a snack now and then (thankfully never so much as to be sickened by the oxalic acid!). And then there were the dandelions, which I also learned were edible, but I hadn't quite acquired a taste for the bitter. The smell of the flowers and the curiously hollow stems have been imprinted, and Perfumer H Dandelion is as close to it as anything I've smelled from the fragrance universe. Lyn Harris incorporated basil, galbanum, and vetiver here, and while each are legible to me, the result of their congress here, among bright citruses and florals, animates the sensation of a dandelion pressed pressed to my nose. Also, the sticky sap from the snapped stems is here. There is also an underlying sweetness and tartness that adds to the overall sensation of sunny meadows and carefree rough-and-tumble joy. When its radiance wanes, like a holograph that fades, it feels just as much to me as an ode to childhood as an ode to our dear little plucky yellow flowers. Reminiscing about childhood as one pushes 50 is as bittersweet as the flower itself. The heart can ache over a long ago that felt more pure, less encumbered; but that spirit, whether summoned through keeping play in one's life well into old age, or through a transportive perfume, is what keeps us young at heart. Thanks, Lyn, for Dandelion.

I absolutely adore this fragrance! Truly unisex imo, and smells like you've been frolicking in the grass. Also a very nostalgic smell, conjuring childhood memories of playing hide-and-seek in the back yard on a summer evening. Absolutely gorgeous if you want to smell like some kind of androgynous Persephone. My only complaint is the poor performance - only seems to last a couple hours before I need to re-apply, and has pretty poor sillage to begin with. At this price point I would expect much more. (I'll be buying a 100ml bottle anyways because I can't get enough of this scent!) Edit: I ended up buying a 50ml bottle and the performance is much better than my sample! Projection and longevity are both better and brought up to par with the other Perfumer H fragrances I've tried!

The nostalgic scent of snapped dandelion stalks. A tomato leaf and basil opening of naturalistic salad drawer greenery. Reminiscent of the old Miller Harris La Feuille but very much improved, more lemony and light. Mandarin and airy, creamy woods with earthy support making Dandelion dreamy, soft and summery.

grassy, green, sharp. a perfect sniff of spring (minus the seasonal allergies). that scene in “midsommar” where they dance and dani realizes she speaks swedish. a soccer field with weeds for my younger self to make wishes on and do cartwheels.

So incredibly dreamy & nostalgic -- 'photorealistic' snapped dandelion scent, with a musky warm-green drydown. Perfect.