Sweetgrass

This is another charming retro-style floral from PP Perfumes, slightly more tender and complex than "Hannele". The entire floral bouquet in this perfume is classic, based on rose, hyacinth, iris and jasmine; the opening fruity orange and peach balanced by bergamot so it doesn't become another sugary juice-mix. Vanilla and patchouli act as supporting beams and they never once overpower this delicate perfume.

I feel like I have spoken ill of rose in perfumery and subsequently tested perfumes with glorious, delicate and refined rose in them. I now stand corrected and have to confess that I love the rose in Aurora. It is not a flower peeking out of the bouquet, but rather an engulfing presence like the rosebush around Aurora's castle, and reminds me of the fairytale illustrations of a long-dead Finnish master, Rudolf Koivu. For some it will still be reminiscent of grandmother's soap, but that is not a bad thing per se.

Aurora endears me more and more with each wear. You cannot quite shake that old-fashioned feel from it, but it is a solid blend of classic florals and very enjoyable and wearable in itself.

Hannele is one of the perfumes I love more and more with each sniff. The opening initially put me off, because rose is one of those classic notes I really don't love, but it dissipates in seconds, giving way to a powdery floral bouquet where rose doesn't dominate (or turn soapy) but rather lends a delicate feminine feel to the fragrance.

This is also one of the few perfumes around whose marketing is absolutely spot-on: this does remind me of the classic 1950s Finnish film beauties and the soap-fresh image of Armi Kuusela, the first-ever Miss Universe. This is not a modern perfume in its approach, and probably won't appeal to younger generations, but that is part of its charm. Throughout its development it maintains a very powdery feel, freshened up by lilacs, and the dry-down is a classical sandalwood-vanilla-tonka harmony.

Hannele also has good projection - spray carefully, because this lady will easily fill up a small room.

As such there isn't much that is new about this composition per se: but its release in a time where the general public's tastes lie in wan florals and watery freshness is kind of surprising, and very refreshing. It has a distinct retro feel that nevertheless doesn't romanticize the past to the point of sentimentality, despite its rosy qualities. It is refined, classy, and well worth a try for any aspiring perfumista.

DISCLAIMER: My sample vial broke and I had to pour it all on me or lose the juice, so this review is based off of one wear. One very thorough wear in a very cold and dry climate (it's -20°C outside as I write this).

Sycomore opened up much lighter than I had expected, which is not a bad thing. I am usually averse to aldehydes, but they only seem to appear in a supporting role to the top notes' pepper, lighting them up and preventing the spiciness from becoming stifling. The woods are discernible from the beginning as a faint background presence, and to my nose, juniper dominates. If you have never smelled juniper wood, I recommend you try to find a piece of it -- it smells gorgeous in its own right, and the note in Sycomore is pretty faithful to the real thing. Violet (as the only floral note listed) accents it very well.

In about 40 minutes, along creeps vetiver that gives this perfume a fuller body and a more defined woody quality. Three hours in, it's a soft woody vetiver, and not overpowering in the least despite my erratic application. I couldn't detect any tobacco -- it could be the dry, cold day, or maybe it's just well-blended. Sandalwood (Australian?) is not clearly discernible as an individual note, but I assume it's what gives Sycomore a slightly powdery, creamy feeling.

Sycomore is beautiful, unisex, and wearable. I would have like just a little bit of plush leather to round it a bit more, but this is a beautiful perfume in any case. Not sure if it goes up on my buying list, but now I am curious to try Encre Noire. Another perfume this reminds me of in the drydown is Bvlgari's Omnia with its tender woodiness -- it sure comes a whole lot cheaper than Sycomore despite being now discontinued.

I have been lying to myself. The first fragrance I bought for myself solely because of the fragrance itself wasn't "Insolence"; it was this body spray, which I got because I love the Fig shower gel and body butter so much and have gone through several bottles of each every year for 4 years now. It saddens me a little that this seems to be discontinued, but it was never popular enough to be widely available in my country, either. I had to order my bottle abroad, and I still have it. It may have gone off by now, but it still smells great.

Every once in a while I spray myself and my bed with it and relax. This fragrance is a different fig from the milky, fruity stuff in the shower gel and body butter, and builds on fig leaves instead. This was my gateway product into the world or perfume, even if it took me a few years to get here. It's just another body spray, not a very complex fragrance, and wears off quite fast, but I do enjoy it from time to time.

Black is one of the few fragrances I would call outright sexy, and one of the few in which a prominent vanilla accord doesn't get cloyingly sweet. I get only a whiff, if that, of the various woods and florals listed: to me, this is almost entirely rubbery leather tinted with vanilla, and grounded by a warm musk that doesn't steal the show or invoke sweat or laundry detergent. I find it perfect for the cold season, and have no idea yet how this behaves during warm weather, but I'm really curious to find out! My only complaint is that the leather isn't quite as intense as I would have hoped, but at EdT concentration this is only a minor concern.

The bottle and packaging complement the juice perfectly, which is a rare enough occurrence that it warrants a separate mention. It is black, stylish and self-assured from box to drydown, and it is absolutely GORGEOUS. Black is an outstanding example of genius in simplicity. Sex and style often seem irreconcileable in perfume, but with Black Annick Ménardo has achieved that, and more. On top of everything else, Black is widely available through online discounters for very reasonable prices at least in Scandinavia and Finland, so keep an eye (or nostril) out for it.

Addendum: In light of Omni's review, there is a sci-fi feel to this, definitely. I don't know about Terminator, but maybe Pacific Rim.