I think it’s that citrus-y and herbaceous bergamot on top of the cassis that makes this one almost scrumptious, or at least very tangible on the tongue.
Myth is “Bergamot, cassis and jasmine petals makes a first impression before lingering with patchouli, liquid musks and white cedarwood.”
It doesn’t matter that pineapple and mango and melon aren’t listed as notes. Whatever the cassis was supposed to provide turns into a way more tropical fruity note. Like a mango or melon Hi-Chew. Myth smells like a twist on a mimosa with the brunchiest, Instagram-friendly accouterments: sunshine, lily petals strewn around the base of the glass and a few thrown in the glass itself for good measure, served on a coaster because the wood for table that was chosen doesn’t actually hold up to the function it was purchased to serve. Read More
Neroli is the essential oil of the orange blossom drawn using steam distillation from the bitter orange tree. Orange blossom also comes from the bitter orange tree, from the same blossom, but via enfleurage, which is the application of fat solids to pull out fragrance compounds from an item. Petitgrain is from the same tree but is made from steam distillation of the twigs and leaves. (Thanks Jessica Murphy from NST and Perfume Professor for that info. Also shout-out to Brooklyn Brainery because even when I look through the list of classes in their email newsletter like “I am not free for ANY of this” I’m still like “what is shibori even though” and “maybe I should start wool-working and also make a puff representation of my dog.”)
You’re so lame mom, please don’t.
I’m not the biggest fan of neroli. Most of the purer forms of it remind me too much of Froot Loops and I just don’t have any fun memories that would make the smell of neroli as significant to me as it is unique. During sniff-tests I’m usually standing next to neroli lovers, lovers of the Italian coastline, lovers of the Spanish coastline who are smiling and talking about their grandparents and their past trips and trips they want to take and saying absolutely nothing, smiling with them, appreciating the fragrance as objectively as I can, and swallowing down cereal jokes until that part of the conversation is over.
Last one of this set. It’s been really fun trying out all of Penhaligon’s interpretations of womans’ fragrance, and I didn’t think I’d like this company anymore than I did but this set was delightful and now I own at least a little bit of 7 of their fragrances, which is crazy! The only other quantities I have to rival it is my number of L’Artisans and Annick Goutals. I love Serge Lutens as well, but I have like nothing sample or FB-wise relative to the number of fragrances I could have.
Alright, no more daydreaming. Let’s get on with the last one, shall we?
- Wet: mimosa (the drink), honey, fruit juice, sweet rose
- Dry: sweet rose, peony, magnolia, iris, saffron, honey, sandalwood, resins
Disclaimer: I don’t like iris in perfume. Serge Lutens Silver Iris Mist, while I appreciate it as a lovely work of art, is like huffing Vaseline lotion (the one that comes in the regular cream-yellow pump bottle) and carrots. Tauer’s Lonesome Rider would have hit all my happy spots…if the iris wasn’t so prominent. And so on.
- Wet: peony, bergamot, carnation
- Dry: iris, suede, violet, peony, bergamot, nutmeg, vetiver
We lost an Empressa recently, so this review being the next one on my list is fortuitous timing, I think.
- Wet: apricot, peach, carnation, lily, lavender, bergamot
- Dry: peach, apricot, lavender, lily, rose, bergamot, patchouli, pepper, orange, sandalwood, cacao, vanilla
Ahh, beer goggles blind, I’m just tryna unwind.
It’s been over a month. Whoops.