Reviews of Un Jardin Après La Mousson (2008)
by Hermès

The reviews posted here, of Un Jardin Apres La Mousson, are among the most thoughtful and accurate I've read! My first impression of fragrance notes within UJALM is salted water, assorted greens - maybe even some linden - pepper, cardamom, and melon. It is sheer in character, like the others in the Hermes Jardin series, and dry too. Can a fragrance be dry and fresh simultaneously? If so, UJALM fits that description. It is interesting to smell notes that seemingly oppose one another, working together in harmony. For example, an acquatic note taking on a dry feeling. Or, juicy melon combined with pepper. That is the "fire & ice" sort of tension that makes this fragrance captivating. To my nose, this elixir is most intriguing! I'd call it a work of art.

Un Jardin Apres La Mousson is yet another wonderful fragrance from Hermes purchased by me based only on some very pleasant experiences with the other Un Jardin fragrances. I used some this morning for the first time and enjoyed it all day and it is still going as I am writing this review. It works fine on my skin on a hot summer day and I do not find it feminine. Un Jardin Apres La Mousson is well worth your consideration and now is on my list of favorite fragrances.

Pretty accurate name for the nasal impression I got when I first smelled it.

To me, it's that instant in the after the rain, thick clouds that have lingered are soon dissipated by the sun shining its way through. The garden smells fresh and green, the impression of cool, wet air comes from the melon note. The cumin and ginger notes are the earth that once was parched is now drenched, giving off it's spicy earthy smell. Being juxtaposed to the melon note keeps the cumin from giving off a sweaty impression as it most times does with other fragrances.

I do get a slight salty tang, not quite like sea air as it develops when scent warms over, but more like the earth beginning to dry, but ever so slightly and not like how some reviewers have described wearing it where it becomes too much to bear.

The scent cools off again, a cool cedar and remnants of the cumin and aquatic notes seems to dominate the base, calming and meditative.

The scent overall was well crafted, although for those who really do not appreciate the melon note would probably be happier with a cool mint or some other green note to create that impression of cool wet air and earth. As with Ellena's other creations, the scent is unfussy and never ever daring or brow-raising, but as always, seems to spark pleasant sensations directly to the brain.

The scent of course doesn't shout, but it's tenacity is quite remarkable. I still smelled its drydown notes after 6 hours. One of the very few fresh frags that will stand up to Summer's heat and humidity. A great addition to the Hermes "Jardin" line.

I'm not sure what it was inspired me to get a sample of this, but within a few minutes of trying, I knew I wanted a bottle of it. This is a highly individual scent, not really much like anything else I know.

It opens for me with a fresh combination of ginger and cucumber, and for some reason I find it has an effect of synaesthesia - I get this impression of milky whiteness so I imagine the notes are caught up in a creamy raitha. Next along are coriander and pineapple, with the drydown (which is highly satisfactory in length) preserving a very light, flowery ginger and the coriander.

I don't find it especially feminine - very suitably unisex. And gorgeous stuff.

Un Jardin Après la Mousson: a lovely name, a beautiful bottle, an excellent concept… a failed product. This was a disappointment for me. I like its sibling scent, Un Jardin sur le Nil, very much and I looked forward to trying Mousson. The opening of peppery spices and a brief blast of melon was attractive. That lasted for about ten seconds. Then things turned unpleasant. There was a salty-stale marine chord which evoked the image of a salt-encrusted pier with barnacles and seaweed. Also, there was an odd kind of toasty note, like rancid sesame oil and dodgy old melon rinds. And that is where it stayed until I washed it off. This is a unisex scent that can be disliked by either gender.

I have had a very different experience with this fragrance than I see above. Firstly, I feel that it is far to soapy both on a testing strip and even more so on my skin. After the soapyness withdrawls after a couple of minutes on my skin, it is a bit more enjoyable but rather feminine, which is why I am confused that this is considered a unisex fragrance when I think the feminine notes are incredibly overpowering. A disappointment for me. I have heard people talk about "being transported to Tuscany", but this is supposed to recall India - therefore I think it must smell different to many different people on a considerable gradient.

This is my favorite of the un jardin series. The sun is breaking through and rain drops sparkle apres le deluge in IndiaThe blend of kahili ginger, cardamon and other spice. UJALM is translucent , Mr. Ellena's print on this , but palpable. It reallyhas tale to tell. The sillage on this is also very good. I do not detect fruity accords at all, rather wet vetiver woody nuances .

2 of my friends tested this and I will say, it did not work well for one, one loved it for its 'fruity' nuances (not on my skin) and bought it as did I.

Un Jardin Après la Mousson stroke me at first as yet another peppery-dry Elena scent (similar to recent creations, such as Osmanthe Yunnan, Paprika Brazil and Kelly Caleche). It seemed indistinct in that context for the first 2 seconds. And than came a surprise (well, not quite surprising because earlier reviews of the scent suggested note in that direction; yet still the effect was quite strange): this is neither watermelon nor melon, but rather – a ripe, juicy cantaloupe. Think of what it would smell like if you were just popping a fresh slice of Trident’s Watermelon Twist sugarfree gum into your mouth while spraying Omsanthe Yunnan all over yourself and you’ll understand just exactly what I’m talking about (Alternatively, try Bvlgari’s Eau Parfumee Au The Vert, if you can’t get a hold of Osmanthe Yunnan for this curious experiment).
Like so many of Elena’s creations, Un Jardin Après la Mousson can be described as sparse, sheer, thin, gauze or veil-like and abstract. If you are not a fan of this style or approach you probably will not enjoy it very much. As much as I try to appreciate scents like that (and grew to be able to enjoy them for my personal use on several occasions), I find it very foreign to me and my flamboyant and dramatic Mediterranean upbringing. Something in me always searches for something deeper at the root of the scent; and in Elena’s perfumes I can’t find that, which results in me feeling like I’m hanging in mid-air like a big question mark awaiting and answer that will never come.

I understand that some perfumers considered the concoction of the artificial marine note that was so popular in the 1990’s to be a great moment in the history of perfume-making and love using it whenever the concepts of ‘fresh’, ‘ocean’, ‘air’, ‘rain’, ‘cool’, and all those other charming and perfectly harmless natural occurrences give them an excuse to do so. I was hoping that it was a fad because to me it’s not ‘morning dew’ as much as, ‘I guess you don’t want this honeydew melon that’s been sitting on the counter for the past coupla weeks’. This is loaded with enough of that marine note to snuff the fires of hell. Getting past it and finding anything else requires hard labour and heavy breathing, but there is a little spice at the opening, and a heavy synthetic and generic fruit along with a hint of dry earth that comes and goes. But the killer, and heaven knows it was already dead, is that at the far drydown there’s freshly caught fish. I swear. On the positive side, with this on my hand getting the cat to take the bit of cream that has his pill cleverly crushed into it is no problem.

I was at Saks yesterday sniffing the Bonds for a gift for my wife. after I'd decided on a gift, the SA was nice enough to walk around the counter with me, just sniffing some other things - we got around to the Hermes section, and all of the testers were on a little tray, but there was a small display for the Mousson - immediately I pointed and said "Can I smell that?"

"Sure," she said, and sprayed a card for me. I waited a while for the alcohol to dissipate, because I didn't want my judgement to be marred by a premature sniff. I lifted the card to my nose . . .

Instantly I was transported to a recently rain soaked and wind battered Tuscan garden - I could smell the wet and battered flowers, the humid air, and the soaked earth beneath my feet.

"Wow." I said out loud. The only other time i've said that out loud was when sniffing Himalaya. Even that experience was more of a harmonious meeting of skin and scent, like two long lost siblings reuniting after years apart.

This was different - this was another time and place, preserved in a simple little bottle with a simple little cap.

"That is a very accurate description," I told the SA.
"What is?"
"The name - A garden after the monsoon."
"Oh, yes. It's their latest."

I asked her a question that I have since forgotten, but it caused her to go off looking for something, perhaps an information card. I decided I must see how this reacts with my skin, so I gave my wrist a single, strong spritz, and watched as the alcohol faded away and the scent dug its heels into my pores.

Another whiff, and I'm back in Tuscany. This time though, I'm not in a flower garden - this time the spices that were growing here had been pulled from the Earth, and came to rest on top of the wet soil. Ginger and cardamom and pepper filled my nostrils, hinting faintly at the petals that were once peacefully basking in the sunlight.

I bought the bottle.

Fast forward six hours, and the scent is just as strong as it was when I took that first spritz. A passing breeze floats the scent into my nose, and I notice how different the sillage is - it's green, but it's not as heavey, not as wet. it's lighter, and a little bit more floral than getting a strong sniff from inches away - a good thing too, because if it were stronger it could be headache inducing. I wash my wrist vigorously, but the scent is still there, albeit a bit lighter.

This is not a scent for everyone - it's quite linear, VERY green, VERY spicy, slightly synthetic. This is NOT a blind buy candidate. I think it's a good one to layer, although i have yet to try it [as this one is gift wrapped]. If anything, even one spray can be a bit much. i recommend this layer technique - spritz, then immediately wash the spot to "lighten" the scent, then apply a complimentary fragrance. I'm also curious as to how it will perform in cold weather.

If my wife doesn't like it, I'm keeping it for myself. If she does, she may find that her supply curiously diminishing over time.

Test it out. If you do like it, get the small bottle - it will last longer than anything else on your shelf, because you need to spray so little.

I own all three Un Jardins and I would have to say that this is the most unique of the three. it is quite dry throughout and in the beginning it is almost bitter yet somehow inviting....as it developes and settles it reminds me of a floral and much, much more herbal version of TdH. There is this earthyness presence to it throughout, but unlike TdH(which reminds me of a dug up dirt around an orange tree).....La Mousson makes me envision the rain soaked grass in the heart of indian Jungle in the early morning hours...............overall what impressed me the most, although there were some hints of similarities to TdH, it is a very unique scent in itself and brings a senmse of relaxation and peacefullness to the wearer. its only drawback is its own subtleness.