By far the most peculiar among the Jardin’s series, but in my opinion, only partially in a positive meaning. The main “pro” is that this smells undoubtedly way more creative than the others, it’s a really intriguing concept which actually succeeds in recreating the feel of a bracing garden just after a rain storm. Wet woods, wet grass... and – here’s the “con” – a couple of totally unrelated notes which make me wonder what “jardin” has just rained on, precisely. Basically the core accord of this Mousson smells to me as a surreal edible nightmare made with melon ice cream, cucumber and mushrooms. Not joking: it’s precisely and literally what I smell here. I haven’t a clue of what this may be due to, I guess part of this comes from ginger; but besides a nice musky-camphorous sort of “warm” spicy accord, a subtle citrus top note and a vetiver base note, I get that. Melon ice cream, cucumber and porcini mushrooms. Which as you may guess, it’s something none would want to smell of (I hope). The drydown goes a bit better, a bit woodier and drier, but still that’s the smell. So I get the aquatic rendition is really peculiar here, with a sort of spicy-mineral-camphorous-fruity twist, and I get this is by far the most unique and creative among this line, but for me it’s just this close to a nonsense scrubber. Mild thumbs up just because I admit it’s a matter of personal taste and I acknowledge the quality of ingredients and the creativity involved.
19th April, 2015 (last edited: 20th April, 2015)
I'm quite new at this, so didn't read any reviews before writing mine down. I'm interested to see that so many detected melon and pepper, which I didn't... however, I did note a hint of burned wood so maybe that was how I translated the pepper. Also was pleased that I picked up on the dryness :) Anyway, my short review:
Goes on warm and dry. First notes were freshly sanded wood and ginger. Maybe a bit of smoke. Later I got some citrus and a bit of soapiness. Overall a very pleasant. light and dry scent.
I know I’m swimming against the tide here, but I’m losing patience with Jean-Claude Elléna’s minimalist dogma. Minimalism in art is refreshing when it first appears, but it wears thin very quickly. I think back to minimalist music: the first few pieces by Riley, Reich and Glass that I heard were seductive, novel, and hypnotic. But there’s only so much you can do with two chords and a chug-chug pulse, and before the 1980s were out it all sounded the same to me.
I’m reaching the same point with Elléna’s "Jardin" and Hermèssence scents for Hermès. While his colleague Bertrand Duchaufour has shown he can do depth, richness, and complexity with fragrances like Méchant Loup and Jubilation XXV, Emperor Elléna’s compositions become ever more slender, and I fear that he’s now getting very close to naked. Un Jardin Après la Mousson is a case in point.
This latest “Jardin” series entry starts out as a shockingly trite aquatic melon thing. In fact, the dominant top note smells exactly like nasty pink watermelon hard candy – you know, the kind that comes wrapped in watermelon pattern cellophane. An attempt at redemptive sophistication comes quickly in the form of a bitter-crisp pink peppercorn note. I thought pink peppercorn was interesting when it showed up a couple of years ago in the top notes of Amouage’s Reflection Man, but everybody’s doing it now, and it’s frankly beginning to get old. A few more minutes into its evolution Un Jardin Après la Mousson reveals a potent and aggressively synthetic sharp woody note. And in true recent Elléna fashion, that’s it.
I waited a few hours for something else to happen, but it didn’t. The accord that Un Jardin Après la Mousson scent arrives at would make a nice shower gel, but the thought of spending $60 on a bottle to smell like this makes me giggle. Un Jardin Après la Mousson is both simple and very loud; a combination of attributes which in humans I equate with idiocy. As a final insult, the synthetics at its core are extremely persistent, and I found the stuff very hard to wash off once I’d grown (very, very) tired of it.
Sometimes less really is just, well, less.
Fresh clear perfume, rather exotic due to the cardemom.
Hendricks Gin and Apres La Mousson seem unlikely bedfellows but the mind of this reviewer pays homage to Passage to India, A Jewel in the Crown and a nip of W. Somerset Maugham into the bargain. There is a metholated burst at the opening and the gin kicks in. How odd that a Frenchman encapsulated the Raj in this way. I observe the gamine eyes of the Fishing Fleet narrowing at the nuances of ALM. I'm sure they wore Jicky, thick with quintessential lavender, or whatever preceded it. Come hither, said the spider to the fly, be seduced by the stunning beauty of Indian women who didn't perfume themselves with the contents of a Turkish brothel. This, surely, is what evaporated from their skin. Seduction of a different kind. He's a clever man, that JCE. I recall Jubal Harshaw from Stranger in a Strange Land saying a man can not love one woman completely without loving all women somewhat. Only for the broadminded, this piece of history.
Pros: Cosmopolitan, Daring, Love of all Humanity
Cons: Not on your clothing, not this one (even though it's Hermes)