Osmanthus (2003)
by Ormonde Jayne

The osmanthus is a remarkable flower. It is about a one-centimeter wide trumpet shaped white flower that grows on the dark green (usually trimmed) bushes -- often trimmed to become hedges. These hedges are planted abundantly in the parks, around the temples, and other planted areas in East Asian cities and countryside. The flowers are tiny but their scent output is huge. It’s near unbelievable how these tiny flowers can produce such massive scent. When the hedges are in full bloom, the wonderful odors permeate entire neighborhoods of the cities.

I was so looking forward to smelling osmanthus again since it’s been months since I was there walking among the hedges. I guess I have to keep waiting, because there’s not very much osmanthus in this Osmanthus; in fact, if I hadn’t seen the name, I never would have suspected it being here. This Osmanthus is a very nice, very safe woody / floral with some nice safe fruity notes to support the florals. The quality of materials used is excellent. The fragrance is nicely composed, but it lacks identity. It provides ambiance without direction. Its background aura reminds me more of other Ormande Jayne fragrances than it does of the wonderful aromas of osmanthus.

I honestly don’t have anything special to say about this fragrance. It is very subtle, sort of pretty scent that is unfortunately very vague too; very boring I should say. And after all it doesn’t even smell that good as I don’t enjoy the thin and bitter green/animalic undertone it possesses; a prominent phase that kicks in soon after those pretty top notes have faded away.

There are just so many more compelling fragrances available for the price including some wonderful osmanthus creations.

Although I quite enjoyed wearing this, one can’t help denying that most (if not all) of the Ormonde Jayne fragrances adhere too much to a particular olfactory style – the bright and bold citrus opening, the floral / spicy / floral-spicy midnotes (intermingling with remnants of the topnotes) and the inevitable domineering amber or cedar drydown. This house verges considerably close to being a two-trick pony (one for the male offerings and the other for the female scents) and, sadly, Osmanthus doesn’t serve to discredit such an accusation.

Now, I have to be honest here and confess that I do not recall ever having smelt real osmanthus but, as Merbert pointed out, this is more of a fruit salad composition than a die-hard floral affair. That in itself shouldn’t be seen as a huge negative, especially when other houses are releasing fragrances with equally misleading names and descriptions (Montale and Martine Micallef, anyone?). However, when the floral notes are subdued by a dominant pomelo and peppery development, one does begin to wonder if Osmanthus really deserves the excuses such compassion demands.

It’s not a terrible scent but it’s nothing remarkable either and, for the price this house is charging, one would expect something much more satisfying.

I'm not sure how much this has to do with osmanthus - at least with the osmanthus that grows in profusion in my neighborhood. On me, Ormonde Jayne's Osmanthus is a thick, heady, indolic white flower composition in the same raunchy vein as Mona di Orio's Nuit Noire and Etat Libre d'Orange's Charogne, if not quite as overtly erotic as either. Nonetheless, Osmanthus makes a strong statement, and that statement is suggestive. I attribute the hard-hitting indoles to the jasmine sambac in the pyramid, and I'm sure the leathery labdanum contributes to the scent's animalic nature. The drydown, which comes surprisingly soon on my skin, is mostly about cedar, complimented by a warm animalic musk.

I've begun to wonder if scents like Nuit Noire, Charogne, and Osmanthus represent a manifesto of rebellion against the spare, minimalist compositions that populate so many niche perfume lines. At any rate I see Osmanthus as a nice, lush "bedroom scent," but not something I'd wear to the office.

For the most of it I agree with Vibert.
There is certainly an old fashioned quality in this. It starts very fruity on my skin, soon after it turns a bit more acid (a hint of citrus). Then it settles in what is staying for quite a few hours a white fruity/floral, pleasant scent. It is rather too sweet for my taste. After a few minutes the leathery notes are revealed that make the scent somehow pleasant on my skin, but in an indefinable way. And indeed it does stay on my skin long after I apply it. Finally on me it has a soothing effect but I also don’t think of it as a scent to wear at work or a night out… unless I want to challenge some noses. I will start mixing it though with a more citrusy perfume and see the results. All and all it is an interesting perfume and it is worth trying.

To me, this is one of the worst fragrances I've tested in a long time. It bears absolutely no resemblance to osmanthus. Where is the rich yet fresh, pure yet erotic nature of the real flower? It smells more like a Glade plug-in air freshener. Instead of capturing the bright slightly unripe apricot note of osmanthus, I smell cheap synthetic fruit salad which produces a very unsettling feeling. Even the in-your-face indoles can't save this one.