ORMONDE JAYNE OSMANTHUS: It was with great amusement that I read this notice on Basenotes about an Ormonde Jayne Osmanthus giveaway: “To celebrate the start of Spring, Ormonde Jayne have partnered with Basenotes to give away 200 samples of their Osmanthus fragrance, which was launched in 2003. One lucky winner will recieve a full bottle of the scent . . . To have a chance to win a sample, email sales@ormondejayne.com with the title ‘Osmanthus Offer’, and answer the following question: In which year was Osmanthus launched?”
Okay, well, putting aside for the moment that the qualifying answer is provided in the first paragraph of the announcement itself, I can’t help but think that this is the Ormonde Jayne brand’s equivalent of clearing its throat in a crowded room: “Uhm, hello? All you Serge Lutens fangirls presently squeeeing about Nuit de Cellophane? Been there, done that. Six years ago. Just sayin’ . . . “
And how does the Ormonde Jayne Osmanthus hold up six years after its debut into the market? Quite nicely, thank you for asking. OJ Osmanthus is contentedly perched at the bar and well on her third cosmo by the time Nuit de Cellophane glides past the doorman in a flurry of self-importance and paparazzi flashbulbs, but that’s okay, because, you know, OJ Osmanthus knew cool before cool became cool — so if the osmanthus note is the new trendy scent note, somebody obviously got there first. And it wasn’t Lutens.
Cue Ormonde Jayne patting itself on the back.
Re: a review — right, here we go: OJ Osmanthus launches out of the bottle with a burst of pomello citrus and davana herb, there’s a fresh and almost Springlike green quality to it (especially once you factor in the osmanthus oil itself) that makes the scent an excellent choice for getting your brain in groove with the changing season, yet the use of musk, labdanum and vetiver in the base keeps the formula from tilting overly sugared and frothy.
In other words, this isn’t some flirty, girly, fruity floral, even though it’s kind of fruity . . . and floral — the musk and vetiver definitely keep the froth in check.
Bartender! Bring the lady another cosmo, please!
Some reviewers have complained that Ormonde Jayne Osmanthus isn’t as striking and complex as other Ormonde Jayne offerings, yet somehow I think that’s the point: an attractively clean, greenly sweet and unapologetically lovely Spring fragrance, yet with a little steel in its bloomers.
Below, an elegiac video portraying the use of the osmanthus flower in a “blooming tea” ritual. No, it has nothing to do with osmanthus in perfumery, but it’s kind of a cool video clip anyway:
SOCIAL CREATURES UTOPIAN: Utopian is one of those rare instances where I actually agree with the description on the LuckyScent site (give or take a few panting adjectives).
Where Social Creatures Rebel Ambush was light, dry and dusty, Utopian is all afizz with peppery carnation and a frankincense so clear and bright it’s almost minty fresh. The orris and lavender contribute to this bright, clear view while the myrtle and oakmoss do a green forested tango in the background . . . or is that a foxtrot? Me and my ballroom lexicon are too rusty for words.
Me likey! Especially for summer. Oh h*ll, why wait? For the longest time, you could only order Social Creatures fragrances from their UK website, but Lucky Scent (based out of Los Angeles) has recently seen fit to grant us a stateside audience with the brand. With no fanfare, too — I didn’t even know Social Creatures was now available on their site until Tara emailed and told me. I was, like, “Wha-wha-WHAT?!!”
I’m so out of the loop.
Scent notes for Utopian: neroli, myrtle, lavender, coriander, orris, carnation, tonka, cognac, frankincense and oakmoss. Definitely unisex, as the carnation is more pepper-spray than floral. The lifespan is longer than what I experienced with Rebel Ambush, as well. I got a good four to five hours out of Utopian — longer if you count watching it ride off into the sunset (insert your best Shane impression here).
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What good timing – thanks for the review! It sometimes happens that Luckyscent gets the perfumes uploaded to their website before the formal release announcement goes out – I only found it because I clicked on the “new releases” link.
I was totally taken by surprise that LuckyScent carried Social Creatures, and thank you for the heads up! It’s an excellent brand, mostly natural from what I recall, and I certainly hope there are plans for a bit more of a roll-out.
Beautiful writing, as always, Nathan. Your words swagger and sashay. Such vim!
You know I’m one of Uncle Serge’s biggest fangirls. I can’t help it. Something horrible happened to OJ’s Osmanthus on the way to my skin, while NdC does this thing that makes me feel 2″ taller and gives me cheekbones.
Katie! Nice to hear from you. I love checking in on your progress at YouTube, and I have half a mind to eventually do a “Best of I Smell” video, splicing together all your choicest quotes.
It just might happen!
Thanks for the positive feedback. I’ll go back to my swaggering . . .
And Non-Blondie! The more I hear/read about Nuit de Cellophane, the more curious about it I become. The OJ Osmanthus review had nothing to do with whether the Serge Lutens version of osmanthus is better or worse rather than what I perceived to be the Ormonde Jayne brand’s very public dismissal of the use of osmanthus as some new trend, with Lutens potentially at the forefront.
I read an interview with Linda Pilkington where she expressed a little bit of annoyance that a few years after she put out her champaca fragrance, champaca started popping up everywhere in perfume. I get the same kind of vibe from the BaseNotes PR push.
So now I’m antcin’ to test out the Nuit de Cellophane, just to be able to compare it to what came out of Ormonde Jayne. I can completely see how the Ormonde Jayne Osmanthus sank like a stone once it hit your skin. It’s not really formulated for people like me to wear (which is why reviewing something like OJ Osmanthus can be tricky) — the vetiver/labdanum/musk combo was fairly prevalent, even on me, at the mid-point. It did clean up on a lot as the fragrance hit its last laps (the musk changed from “musky” to almost shower-fresh), but there were a good couple of hours when I was reminded of a very pretty, feminine Zizan.
I’m now going to go see about getting my hands on some Nuit de Cellophane. Maybe it’s time for the aging screen queen to give it up for the new starlet in town . . . ?