When I first read the tagline ‘the scent of the Hermès girls’, I did not have much hope for Twilly (Hermès, 2017), the latest creation by in-house perfumer Christine Nagel. Clearly, it is targeted at young women in their twenties and we all know too well what sort of composition major fragrance houses tend to have in mind for this demographic. My thoughts wandered off to the theme of La vie est belle (Lancôme, 2012), sugar confection that often ends up in very cloying vanilla and musk.
But the very first sniff simply debunked all that stereotype. In fact, at the outset, Twilly is sparkling with fresh petitgrain and this is soon joined by a beguiling white floral note at heart. It is something between orange blossom and soft tuberose; and to those who are averse to white florals, fear not: the sweetness of its white florals is foiled by a gingery accent. Even in the dry down, which also lasts well from morning into evening, its musky amber is peppered with herbal accents and sweetened only by powdery heliotrope and bitter-sweet coumarin. Nothing about Twilly betrays a hint of sugary confections.
In fact, Twilly might just be the proof that young women in their twenties do not need saccharine musks to smell good. If they want something coquettish, addictive, and quirky, this is it. Its white floral is sensual enough without being carnal. Its sweetness is just tantalising without being treacly. And, the gingery and herbal accent lends a distinctive note to the mix. It feels like a quirky, seductive eau de cologne that blends citrus, herbal florals, and musky amber. And, it remains wearable. For this reason, Twilly, much like a short, memorable melody, is easily my favourite.
Hermès is to launch Galop d’Hermès (2016) that features a duet of rose and leather. This is the second launch by Christine Nagel ever since she commenced her term as the in-house perfumer.
Rhubarbs are strongly tart. They can add freshness to even the most syrupy of cuisine. The resulting mix of intense sourness and sugary sweetness in rhubarb compote is vibrant. This simple match also applies to perfumery, in which the green tart rhubarb pairs well with and tames the sweet notes of berries, rose, and violet.
Perfumer Christine Nagel similarly employs this idea in Eau de Rhubarbe Écarlate (Hermès, 2016). She pairs fresh rhubarb and sweet berries to create a lively eau de cologne with a sultry suggestion. The tangy citrus and green acidic notes conjure the crunchy stalks at first. These are, then, contrasted by a blend of fruity rose, violet, and musk. In effect, it is a dynamic between tart rhubarb and musky raspberry.
Such pairing of fresh tart notes with sensual sweetness give the composition its character. Towards the dry down, the lingering tangy promise keeps the sweetness at bay, and the richness of musk lends a soft caress. Refreshing and flirtatious at the same time, Eau de Rhubarbe Écarlate demonstrates that fruity-floral perfumes are not necessarily bland, when executed well and with a character.
Its rhubarb compote and raspberry sorbet is luscious. It is also surprisingly long-lasting for an eau de cologne. It lingers close to me, like a second skin. It may be a polished fruity-floral cologne, but make no mistake, the character still pops out and is as bold as its scarlet flacon.
A note on the shower gel: The development follows exactly that of the perfume. Upon lathering, the tart-sweet rhubarb and rose intensify. Its dewy rose and musky berries linger on skin afterwards. I am very happy with the shower gel.
Source: photograph of Philippe Jarrigeon