Ormonde Woman (2002)
by Ormonde Jayne

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

Genre: Woods

Ormonde Woman goes on with peppery green citrus top notes that are tangy, moist, and pleasantly bitter all at once. The citrus note bows out even more quickly than most to leave a refreshing peppery, herbaceous accord. The heart is all herbaceous, violet-seasoned woods in the manner of (believe it or not,) Geoffrey Beane’s Grey Flannel, though much lighter, sharper, and more transparent. In fact, so clear and simple is the texture that it can be compared with the most minimalist of Jean-Claude Ellena’s compositions. (Un Jardin en Mediterranée comes to mind.)

With time the herbal elements dissipate, leaving a very dry, clear cedar and moss base. Ormonde Woman is an extremely understated and transparent scent that does not project far from the skin and leaves no sillage to speak of. It’s not terribly long lasting either, so you’re likely to go through that expensive bottle very quickly if you wear it at all often. On the plus side, Ormonde Woman is a very sophisticated fragrance and belongs to a rare genus of dry, green woody scents aimed at women.