Natsumeku

This may be the best, most realistic yuzu I’ve tried. The yuzu is accompanied by prominent notes of hinoki, neroli , bitter orange and a touch of camphor. Strangely enough, Natsumeku might be too natural for some noses who are used to more conventional (and fake) presentations of these sorts of notes. Overall, this fragrance creates a wonderful mood. As is often the case with this type of scent profile, the projection isn’t particularly impressive and the citruses fade away eventually. However, the drydown is substantial and beautiful regardless. It leaves a lemony-hinoki and neroli-enhanced-with-aromatic touches that are noticeable close to the body.

Makes me feel like a yuzu tree you want to lick all over. Ephemeral and everything I hoped it would be. Summer edit: Now that I try this in mid-June, I am not so dazzled. Considering the name of this fragrance I expected it to perform a lot better in the summer but it seems to perform better on me in dry, cold air, it does not cut the brightness of this scent nearly so much.

Bought this blind buy. White and clear first couple of months. I wanted a Summer fragrance. Nothing! Was I asnomic to the notes? Fast forward two to three months. Juice has turned brown amber. It has developed into what it should be! Citrus, amber and a lot of complicated fresh notes. Spring and Summer perfect.

Fleetingly staggeringly beautiful heartbreaker. Fragile glory of fresh growth in a bottle. Niche and decidedly characterful citrus that's oh so special in every way... but, like an emotional extract of almost every wonderful citrus scent ... it's too good for this world, or at least MY world, because its glories don't survive long on my skin. It absolutely understands the assignment and fulfils the brief in so many ways. A bright wonderful ZING of tangerine and yuzu at first (not too harsh or astringent here as in some treatments, not the stinging acid slap of Heeley Yuzu, but instead a burst of something like ultra-luxe lemon with a PhD and a little more sweetness, but a convincing tang of something pricklier too) ... then a thrill of the herbal-medicinal-weird-but-never-bitter as the oakmoss, camphor and hinoki come out to play, thrumming with outdoor life and lore. And heavens above, even beneath that there's another layer of natural wonder with warmer, spicier palo santo and orris softening and warming the bottom of it. (Even lavender, so often a problem child, is kept low-key and never goes cheap barbershoppy). As a real compliment: this does not smell like perfume - but like the essence of a fantastic day out on an imaginary hillside, on those days in late spring when you might be almost-hot in direct sun but fresh, even chilly, as you dip into shade. Nature is all around you doing her thing, growing, budding, sending out shoots and tendrils, fresh and green and swelling with vigour. Yet in the best possible way, this scent is not sexy; maybe even not sensual; pure and innocent still. So? This is amazing - like so much of Prin Lomros's work - it DOES so much and so cleverly too. Perfectly unisex; won't polarise as it's so well judged; is discreet, fresh and natural enough even to wear in Japan itself (I'd hope) but is still complex and 'difficult' enough to intrigue and hold interest even if you're jaded. I absolutely love it. It doesn't smell like any of them - but its ability to throw you a scent picture and command that dreamy landscape, every perfect brush-stroke of it, to your mind, it reminded me of other great nature-florals like Grossmith Hasu No Hana, or Zoologist Dragonfly. In its quirky citrus-with-attitude / herbal niche approach, maybe the closest thing I've smelled to it would be Parfum d'Empire's very respectable Iskander. But thanks, Prin, I hate it ... because of that vigour problem. On me the gorgeous details of the yuzu begin to vanish in under an hour to blur into a more generic lemon-zestiness, and that fantastic bouquet of aromatics gets slightly stomped out underfoot by the oakmoss even sooner. (Weirdly, because it's the opposite of how citrus/woods usually play out, it's the coniferous hinoki and mellow palo santo that get lost fastest of all. Is yuzu really such a bully?). And then - after that spectacular full-spectrum display of the start - only a few hours in, you end up with a really great, dry, aromatic, herbal, lemon-and-oakmoss which is absolutely just fine but far more generic and reminded me uncomfortably of Miller Harris Citron Citron, which I also loved and doesn't last either, but costs about 20% of Natsumeku.) So it's an object lesson in that other Japanese concept, "mono no aware", the 'bittersweet realization of the ephemeral nature of all things', that the truest beauty - cherry blossom, children's laughter, kittens playing etc etc etc - CAN be found in things that don't last. Appreciating impermanence is heartbreaking, but the pain makes the moment all the sweeter. But ... does your life allow that wisdom to apply at upwards of $6 per ml for a few hours of fleeting revelation? Only you can judge if it's worth it. If I earned twice what I do I'd be tempted. I've spent as much on other things, but they were big, lasting beasts. Natsumeku thrills and saddens me at the same time; on balance, because of the cost performance issues, I can be happy to have smelled it, loved it, and actively decided not to chase it. As perfume art: genius level. As a product... meh, maybe not so much. But I'd love the whole world to smell it and buy it in container-loads. On balance: it's a joy.

Pressing a freshly picked Yuzu up to your nose and then hiking in a Japanese forest. During the first few seconds this smells like a cheap detergent but as it dries down the beauty here unfolds. Very authentic, sharp, sour, and surprisingly very herbal Yuzu. It's blended really well with the greens here and it almost smells like a Yuzu peel than the pulp itself. Over time some sweet orange oscillates (sometimes It's plain orange and sometimes is a tangerine) until it's gone and the wood note hits (this is where the trek begins). This perfume features Hinoki which is a personal favorite. A beautiful damp, powdery wood accord. It works well here as Hinoki is heavy and Yuzu is very bright so they contrast each other well. The Hinoki is blended with something I'm not quite sure of but it's feels a bit soapy (Neroli? Oakmoss? Lavender?). This is probably the best realistic Yuzu perfume you can get. It has that naturalness that perfumes like some Olympic Orchids have. I love Yuzu and Hinoki and together they smell great, but I don't love it as a wearable. To me this is more an artistic expression that captures an essence and I really like it for that. (May 2022) Edit: Came back to this recently and I enjoy it more as a wearable now. In my head this fits the profile of a snooty sophisticated type person. It has this dark gothic forest thing going but the yuzu keeps it sparkling and bright. On the drydown It kinda smells more like Encre Noire meets yuzu? I like this more!