Hyperion, from Rubini was released in 2024. The perfumer behind this creation is Cristiano Canali. The notes are Algae, Amber, Ginger, Incense, Patchouli, Pepper, Saffron, Timur, Vetiver, Ylang-Ylang.
A trip into outer space. Or maybe inner. Or maybe both. The overexcited description of the perfume's inspiration certainly implies as much, as does the 2001 inspired promo film accompanying its release. There is much talk of supernovas and infinity and reverberations of cosmic ambers. So far, so purple.
Ignore all of that: what does the perfume actually smell like? Kind of gorgeous, actually. It takes stock ingredients and combines them in unexpected ways. The opening, peppery blast of incense? It sparkles somehow. The juniper-wood undertow has unanticipated spaciousness and depth. The dirty, mineral, ambergris base is dark and a little bewildering. It really is suggestive of outer space, or the idea of outer space, the reality apparently being the much less palatable scent of burnt meat, gunpowder and piss.
Like all the Rubini perfumes, this reveals its secrets slowly. I’ve been wearing it a lot over the few months, and every time a new facet sneaks out. It also blooms in the open air, and especially in the cold, which allows the individual notes to really emerge. Both ambitious and deeply romantic, it's probably my favourite of the entire line, edging out the greasy overalls and petrol scent of Nuvolari. I'm a bit wowed by it, actually.
A trip into outer space. Or maybe inner. Or maybe both. The overexcited description of the perfume's inspiration certainly implies as much, as does the 2001 inspired promo film accompanying its release. There is much talk of supernovas and infinity and reverberations of cosmic ambers. So far, so purple.
Ignore all of that: what does the perfume actually smell like? Kind of gorgeous, actually. It takes stock ingredients and combines them in unexpected ways. The opening, peppery blast of incense? It sparkles somehow. The juniper-wood undertow has unanticipated spaciousness and depth. The dirty, mineral, ambergris base is dark and a little bewildering. It really is suggestive of outer space, or the idea of outer space, the reality apparently being the much less palatable scent of burnt meat, gunpowder and piss.
Like all the Rubini perfumes, this reveals its secrets slowly. I’ve been wearing it a lot over the few months, and every time a new facet sneaks out. It also blooms in the open air, and especially in the cold, which allows the individual notes to really emerge. Both ambitious and deeply romantic, it's probably my favourite of the entire line, edging out the greasy overalls and petrol scent of Nuvolari. I'm a bit wowed by it, actually.