Irisoir

When I first encountered Sultan Pasha's series of Iris notes, I have to admit I was stunned - from a lot of modern western perfumery Iris usually comes across in one of a few ways: powdery, waxy (which usually comes from a more 'raw' orris root note,) in a way smelling like it's infamous bread-like rhizomes (which again come from either the orris root or butter) or like a synthetic coolness that to me doesn't ever feel like iris/orris, but becomes simply 'that synthetic note' which is used to re-present iris. None of these are the feelings I get from the Sultan Pasha fragrances whereupon iris is prominently displayed. For instance, Masque Millano's wonderful L'Attesa is a great example of the starchy, buttery, and waxy/dusty orris root/butter, which can be used amazingly to contrast with Irisoir, which reads a lot more to me as a Pure Iris Flower if such a thing can be spoken of in fragrance. Of course in both situations there are a tonne of notes being used to create the total representation of a note, and to amplify or curve other notes - if you can imagine a photo-realistic painting of an iris for instance, there is of course a lot more at play that simply depicting an image of an iris - and ultimately the 'framing' or the work is another way through which the master artist is constructing the whole of the iris to be displayed. All of this is to say that, in works like Irisoir, there is a lot more at play than simply the 'note of iris' despite the fact that, to me, iris is the entire image focused on in this work. I do get Cedar, violet, carnation, heliotrope, lilac, rose, sandalwood, ambergris, peach, and vetiver for sure at various movements throughout this work, for it is one through which the fruity, woody, ambered, and slightly spicy elements of iris are explored, and while violet does read at times as a 'primary note' it never replaces the iris as the focal point for me, and ultimately becomes that which displays again the lovely iris flower itself - more often than not by creating the very leaves of the iris itself - while the mimosa, carnation lilac seem to speak to the temperament of the iris, and the carnation perhaps as a pollen of sorts, while the cedar, sandalwood and ambergris the environment which the iris itself grows in. The peach and rose add a honeyed/ambered element through which you can almost taste the sweetened dew dripping from the flower itself. Irisoir is an absolutely masterful work which prompts me to say again what I said at the end of my first series of notes on this fragrance: "it feels luxurious and a true celebration of florals with a direction that indeed seems to guide one towards an unspoken manifesto of the ways in which florals should be." A very rare iris, and one which lovers of the note MUST experience. 10/10 YT: Jess AndWesH

Smelling Irisoir, right from the opening, is a deeply satisfying experience to me. The orris is the unequivocal star of the first half hour, an exquisite delicacy of velvety, even buttery richness, violet-tinted woody elegance and just a hint of its rooty quirkiness. At the same time, a honeyed, slightly powdery floral heart steadily grows. Carnation, mimosa, lilac, almond-y helitrope are intricately intertwined into a fleecy bedding over smooth sandalwood and soft balsams, a luxurious, velvety mattress so soothing that the orris could all but fall deep within. This middle phase reminds me quite a bit of L'Heure Bleue, especially the sumptuous extrait de parfum (my reference is one from 90s). But Irisoir has a much stronger presence of orris and less of the anisic spiciness, tonka bean and other oriental elements. As a result, Irisoir feels much more floral in comparison, and more delicate and vibrant as well. A quiet whisper of peach can be heard throughout the composition as well. It's at first slightly bitter and woody besides its sweet-tart fruitiness, like the flavour close to its stone. When the elegant and enveloping floral heart gradually softens after about 6 hours, the peach gains a bit more prominence. It's now a tender fruity warmth mingled with the dainty, honeyed petals of rose, rendered suede-like thanks to the ever so plush orris. Irisoir maintains this adorably silky skin scent of orris, violet, peach and rose over a discreet salty vetiver until it disappears with a total longevity of at least 10 hours. It mostly stays close to the skin, although it projects slightly during its opening hour. Irisoir is described by some writers as a close contender to the mythical Iris Gris. As I've never smelt the original vintage version or the reconstructed one in Osmothèque, I can't provide any comparison. But I would say that the peach is more like a supporting actor in this star-studded attar. And the L'Heure Bleue association stemming from its abstract yet nectarous, powdery floral heart, rather evokes to me the perfumery of the early 20s century, like Sultan Pasha himself described it as a tribute to La Belle Epoque. That being said, Irisoir does not feel like a mere copy, but a timeless beauty that truly is inspired by the classic perfumery and moves forward in a certain artisitic direction with the help of quality materials and exquisite blending. I'd highly recommend giving it a try, especially if you are an orris/iris fan or if you enjoy warm floral oriental à la L'Heure Bleue.

Irisoir is a soft and intensely powdery mixed, subtly fruity, woody vanillic floral with a tiny, enigmatic dash of cocoa. If that sounds rather complex it's because, all considered, it is!! Irisoir opens with a dry gamma undecalactone opening which possesses the soft fuzz of an unripe peach. Unlike Mitsouko, however, where the peach is in a mossy wood, here it is laying atop an entirely mauve desert, dune after dune of dried, milled flowers and vanilla under a cloudy purple-and-blue sky at sunrise. It's only slightly sweet (less so than L'heure Bleue) and has, of course, an absolutely gargantuan iris note replete with cosmetic powder, lipstick, and rooty earthiness. If the doors to Narnia were an old-fashioned makeup pouch, this would be the smell of the world on the other side, albeit in a state of perpetual spring rather than winter. I originally struggled endlessly with Irisoir because I'd been expecting a cold, austere iris which is the sort I'm used to. This is NOT that kind of fragrance. Here, everything is opened, warmed and sweetened by yellow florals, a gently spicy carnation, amber and delicate musk. Much like taking some kind of sweetened bread or biscuit out of an oven, but where only the barest hint of sugar has been used (Irisoir is only mildly sweet). Though it lands close-ish to L'Heure Bleue in genre, Irisoir is substantially more cheerful by temperament, with less of the wistful melancholy of the Guerlain. It is less sweet (and less obviously "purple") than Iris Shot by Olfactive Studios, which I think is also in roughly the same iris-floral ballpark. I was thinking for a time about possibly selling this but each time I've tried it since my affinity for it has just grown and grown and grown. It's endlessly fascinating for such an innocuous powdery floral, at times I get whiffs of relatively stern rooty iris and vetiver, which in the next breath is corrected by measures of mimosa, rose and jasmine. Like all well-blended florals a la Joy, Irisoir smells like a flower that doesn't actually exist. But oh, if only it did!

Irisoir from Sultan Pasha. Easily ranks among my favorite Orris-based compositions. An Iris perfume with a vintage touch and a Victorian flair, incredibly rich and sumptuous. It smells so thick and creamy that I feel like it's choking me if inhaled deeply. Being an attar and a base-heavy composition, it feels rather monolithic, almost not progressing much, yet it does. However, slowly and over a long period. The top phase is consumed quickly, and the heart and base spend a long time on the skin. There is a hint of spiciness and some zesty fruits in the opening and after, it's full-on Orris. It is slightly punctuated by other florals such as candied violets and spicy carnations. The Orris, however, is the star of the show. Powdery, creamy, almost cocoa-like at times. The overall buttery texture might render a chocolaty sensation, occasionally. And what better way to complement this beautiful material than by marrying it to sandalwood and ambergris? Both show themselves more as the perfume consumes on the skin, but the Orris always feels in control. The refreshing zesty fruitiness from the opening is stretched long into the heart of the composition, and almost into the dry-down, and that is why I say that it feels like it has no progression, but I think it is rather a slow and seamless process that makes everything feel so compact and dare I say, monolithic. A beauty of an attar. Alluring, dark with an edge, full of glamour, and decadently rich in both texture and flavor. IG:@memory.of.scents

Its a true axiom that the kindness you put out into the world will eventually return to you. I was lucky to find Sultan shortly into his new journey and one thing that is supremely important is to support, and sometimes protect emerging talent..otherwise they may not survive, and a Gift to the world potentially extinguished. At one point I stepped in for Sultan as a boorish reviewer unprofessionally took liberties he should not have taken. Integrity, altho out of fashion in this consumable society is a true linchpin for comraderie. Sultan, you have come so far and know his products made with a genuine passion is the real deal. Iris Soir is an echo of the legendary Iris Gris from the Belle Epoque era. Its extravagant iris butter, violet ionones and lactonic peach make up the heartbeat of the creation. Its luxe, special and reserved for enthusiasts and not the casual fragrance wearer. Its the epoch of iris fragrances...the thing we fragrance enthusiasts dream of. Gratitude.