क्या आपने इस सुगंध को आज़माया है?
अपना अनुभव साझा करें और दूसरों को शानदार सुगंध खोजने में मदद करें
I’ve been fantasizing about the perfect green scent, something with the biting, vegetable freshness of crushed stems—not fruity or light, but sharp and bitter, like roots and earth. Eris’ Green Spell delivers with a blast of galbanum and hyper-realistic tomato-leaf that feels like the deepest part of an Henri Rousseau jungle painting: it makes you think of plant life in terms of blades and spears. In this dream of greenery, there’s no sunlight or even moonlight, just dense thickets of spiky, dewy foliage taller than you are. Mandarin and black currant are listed as top notes but the citrus and berry tartness seem don't feel front-loaded to me, they sneak in sideways, along with the nice addition of fig leaf, which warms up the mix a bit, though there’s also violet leaf cooling it back down. This is like an underworld version of Philosykos—a shadowy, almost poison green rather than the angelic airiness of the Diptyque one. People seem to complain about its longevity, but I haven’t found any super-green scent that lasts very long, so I think it just comes with the territory. This one dries down to a spicy, slightly musky and grassy vetiver that lasts for quite a while, though really just as a skin scent. I like this perfume a LOT.
Green Spell from Eris Parfums is as if a celestial being of 100% chlorophyll descended from the heavens, its wings a crushing flutter of many leaves, broad and flat, delicate and curled, waxen, rubbery, pliant, radiating every variation of veridian. In a voice like seeping moss, like eroding rock, like insect wings disintegrating into the earth, it whispers to you, "Like, be not afraid, or whatever." It's the endless trailing succulent stem of a bittersweet pennywort patch through the soil until you reach a darkly massive gnashing malachite rootball nightmare. You awake with emerald scratchings on your palm and jade lashings of fern in your teeth.