Fantome de Maules

A stroll through flower-dappled fragrant forest, holding hands with Le Loyon, fabled spirit that roams them. He pauses at patches of blooms and selects the most redolent to present for your nose. Fantôme de Maules references a Swiss forest-spirit that haunts in harmony with it's timber environs. Spicy and green, the citrus top is suited to cold weather. Lemon zest and crushed cardamom pod spiral in a rolling boil for a warming tonic. Sharp coriander seed cracks in early on, an impish tingle that heats up the greenery and spices, lending complexity to both the resinous labdanum and dry woods. A persistent sweet apparition, restrained by a thin circle of salt, never veers into saccharine. I'm not surprised that Ambroxan found it's way onto the note pyramid here though it is not officially listed by Stora Skuggan--more likely it is tonka producing airy sweetness (here void of it's chocolate or vanilla facets.) The middle of Fantôme is floral spice, more aromatic than culinary as the lavender and vetiver take stage. The finish is a dreamy recollection of the otherworldy walk in the woods: ghostly florals, wispy musk, beautiful cedar and sandalwood faintly carried on a leaf-shimmering breeze.

A rare glacial green. Icy aromatics and crisp citrus twine into alpine forest mist. Hear me out: this is the shadow version of Bath and Body Works’s seminal work “Coconut Lime Verbena.” There’s no coconut, but I still get a sweet, downy accord that hits the same note. It’s here the pepper+coriander prickle the cashmere+white musk just enough to lend the effect of nuzzling deep into the neck of a wooly jumper. The citrus note is still limey enough to pucker. And the lavender subs for verbena, bracingly sharp like a lungful of mountain air. I take back initially passing it off as a monotone, office-safe green. There’s something beautifully harsh about Fantome. Might be a tie with Azalai for my favourite of the house. Mental Snapshot: This is my White Witch scent. You know, the one where Tilda Swinton offers a little British schoolboy Turkish Delight. The snow-laden pines, the duvet-sized arctic fox fur cape, the little silver vial of peacock-green potion. She smells sweet, then strange, then savage. Fantome’s cap even looks like a drop of that conjuring elixir. tl;dr: Frozen, directed by David Fincher ❄️🖤

This is a shy one. It disappears on me, at times, just like Fantome in the story, and turns into a skin scent after the first few hours. Lush winter greenery with a citrusey sparkle, a peppery-cardamomey edge and a cool background calm of cashmeran at first, musky tonka-vetiver-wood later. The occasional flash of pleasantly mild florals is very walk-in-the-forestey and welcome. Fantome de Maules is comforting, balanced and altogether inoffensive. This would absolutely be my go-to office scent if not for the price tag. Edit: I've just had the pleasure of experiencing this fragrance on a hot day. Imagine being so warm that if you had any body of water in your reach, no matter how dirty, you'd gladly hop into it. And miraculously, there's a deep, crystal clear, icy cold lake right there, mist rising above its surface, a forrest brimming with welcoming shadows all around. This is what that lake smells like as it makes contact with your over-heated skin. Cool, refreshing relief. Wonderful oblivion.

contemporary galbanum-forward fragrances are a category of perfume i'm fascinated with, as greens (and galbanum in particular) in many of its forms SCREAM 1960s pillbox hat to me. glorious chypres somewhat stubbornly of their time and hard for me to get past and recontextualize due to my own personal associations (not their fault!). so when i find galbanums or green heavy scents that take me somewhere else, i'm thrilled. maison martin margiela (untitled) comes to mind (and her sister, prada infusion d'iris), chanel n•19 poudre (as opposed to her mother n•19) as does niche xinu monstera. now i can add fantome de maules to this inspired list. full spectrum green, manages to be crisp and dew-soaked all at once. this is the thin beams of light shining through the tree canopy, filtered yet pointed. contrary to what some say, i find the price point for stora totally reasonable, and the performance quite good (hours on skin, days on clothes). it's all subjective i suppose.

A bittersweet veil of lichen & moss-lace envelops your silhouette, trailing translucent just past your bare feet. Your skin is stained by the earthen, herbal sweetness of dirt pathways where fertile roots guide you as they writhe and rise from their steaming, damp depths. Alive and hauntingly present, there is a denseness in the atmosphere, a mist creamy and still. The forest canopy folds its protective nest around you. There are blossoms breathing and rotting, cycles and sounds staying true and close to the ground.