Ormonde Woman (2002)
by Ormonde Jayne

What a difference a year makes. I'm leaving my first review intact for sentimental reasons; this was the first truly niche fragrance I encountered, and I still adore it. Despite the gendered names, Ormonde Man and Ormonde Woman are both quite unisex and incredibly similar--so similar, in fact, that one wonders if both of these need to exist. At any rate, I find them both beautiful. Woman is softer and a tad sweeter than Man thanks to the violet, and Man is a tad spicier thanks to the addition of pink pepper.

Overall, these two scents celebrate green woods in a quintessentially British way. This is an ancient, slightly dank forest that was spent an eternity surrounded by fog. The woods are synthetic, employing the house signature developed by Geza Schoen, and yet there is still a naturalness here. The grass oil most likely contributes to this, and I wish it stuck around longer than 30 minutes.

Fortunately, the heart and base are tenacious, still projecting softly after 10 hours from two sprays to the neck. In the far dry-down, it even gets a bit powdery--perhaps the violet is shifting focus again. First green, then spicy, then powdery woods. Galadriel floating through Lothlórien.

Overall, I think Ormonde Woman is the jewel of this house alongside Privé, though I haven't sampled the critically acclaimed Gold series yet. I still find this practically perfect, and I hope to add a bottle or two to my collection this year.

--
Ormonde Woman: practically perfect in every way.

I don't mean to trivialize a masterpiece with trite movie quotes, but I honestly have nothing else to offer. I have been completely swept off of my feet. None of my past or even current signature fragrances hold a candle to Ormonde Woman. This speaks to everything I have been and everything I want to be. My entire collection, modest as it is, pales in comparison. I can only hope Ormonde Jayne never stops making this because I will be needing it for the next 60 years, give or take.

I remember smelling the tester in store, it has a somewhat sweet green grass note on top. Not as ethereal as Apsu, and sometimes I can't perceive it at all.

Back home, it then fell to the very peppery woody heart (black hemlock?). Except that, it has an oily facet. If you've smelled violet leaf essential oil, you'll know what I'm talking about. Sometimes it has a dry-tea leaves scent.

The opening sweetness didn't disappear completely, it's lurking somewhere in the background. In the meantime, the main note is still a bit sour and astringent, as you can imagine from a dry cedar base. It even turns to the slightly bitter side after dry-down.

There is a balm at the heart of both Ormonde Man and Ormonde Woman - it is a smooth and creamy thing, giving a sense of luxury and refinement and a hint of something that is somewhere between cashmere and milk (with no doubt a good helping of Geza Schoen’s beloved, velvety – and addictive – Iso E thrown in). It soothes the greens and woods that are common to both these perfumes and dissolves them into a magical and cool forest fantasia. Here are gently waving grasses, airbrushed pines, the gentle crunch of fallen twigs releasing odours not only of wood but herbal, almost floral coriander seed and the sweet, soapy breath of cardamom. Here is sunlight filtering pale green through the tall branches alive with dancing motes. And here is the unmissable elegance that is something of an Ormonde Jayne signifier, which gives so many of their perfumes an effortlessly relaxed yet polished feel.
Whereas I love a green perfume that goes for verisimilitude, I am also partial to such smeared lens explorations which seem worlds apart.
As I currently own Ormonde Man, I find the common DNA of the two perfumes does not justify also buying Ormonde Woman, but should the former run out, then it will be time to get gender fluid.

The Ormonde Woman is effortlessly stylish, dressed as she is in a contemporary yet timeless pantsuit, the fabric carefully selected and perfectly tailored to allow ease of movement while retaining a structure that in obscuring only serves to accentuate her beautifully feminine curves. Light make-up highlights a flawless complexion, a fuss-free great-looking hairstyle hints of professional help, and astute use of jewelry or accessories completes the look.

The fragrance in its androgyny is similarly styled. Overtly floral, fruity, ambery or sugary-powdery stuff that screams 'WOMAN!' is nowhere to be found here. They are simply unnecessary. The Ormonde Woman, supremely confident in her feminity and her sense of style, grabs a bottle of cologne belonging to her man, judges its character in a minute and applies a judicious amount of it before heading out of the door.

The juxtaposition is both breathtaking and disconcerting - imagine an attractive woman smelling like an aristocrat. Like a balmy afternoon breeze rustling through the leaves in a forest, carrying with it the gentle nuances of ferns and wild blooms, Ormonde Woman eventually dries down to a clean lightly woodsy skin scent. Very debonair. For what it's worth it could have well been called Savile Row and no one would be the wiser.

Ormonde Woman opens with a thick, vaguely Lutensian harmony of sweet woody notes with a slight “syrupy” texture, above all a cedar note quite on the sweet side (like in Lutens’ Cèdre, in fact) with detectable notes of citrus, violet, coriander, vanilla, jasmine, something mossy-herbal, an almost-sticky and warm texture of amber and something resinous and “pine-woody”, and a subtle salty-balmy aftertaste which I recall having found in Tolu as well by the same brand. The blend is cleverly made a bit lighter and brighter by a dusty-talc breeze which smells something like a “violet-flavoured” incense, even if it’s probably only violet with Iso E – a couple which reminds me of another scent by Lutens, Feminité du Bois, that in fact included cedar, violet notes and (correct me if I’m wrong) some 40% of Iso E Super. There are many differences though, but they seem to share a sort of common inspiration. The vetiver note emerges more clearly after a while, as soon as the scent gets a bit more dry, although it never gets prominent – it rather just lies there providing a “woodier” (I mean: more “realistic”) counterpart to cedar. Frankly, this fragrance smells much unisex to me, not to say more masculine than feminine – basically it’s a balsamic woody scent with a light and quite subtle sweet-floral breeze. The drydown is quite long-lasting and unexpectedly substantial, although a tad linear. A bit bland perhaps, but solid and effortlessly refined.

7/10