The elements of most-desired modernity from the dawn of the age of electricity – streamlining, speed, crackle and spark – seem embodied in this curious shapeshifting perfume.
The beginning is like being dragged through rosy undergrowth while wrapped in cellophane and tinfoil; natural *and* artificial is Clemency’s mode. Fortunately, this tying together of tech and nature is not an arid intellectual exercise but a living, breathing creation, perhaps one that may have drunk a touch too much milk.
What started as a peppery chypric rose with a metallic sheen, morphs into a honeyed linden accord (stripped off the greasier elements that often load down linden notes) with vegetal greens, that setting-teeth-on-edge metal and a sprinkle of dust. Eventually a film of milk runs over everything – a cross between the real thing and moisturizing body milks – while a backing of synthetic sandalwood reveals itself. The synthetic woods are perfectly at home in the overall mood of this odd but so far wearable perfume, but it’s the fatty milkiness combined with the metallic aspect that I’m less sure of – it won’t bother many I’m sure, but it constricts my throat and brings on an involuntary arching of just one eyebrow.
However, it’s the last nasty twist that got me. The florals recede to sweet slop and up comes a leather, that combined with the sweetness and milkiness had the effect of putting me off my food completely. This stage is reached after about an hour and it is what one is left with for the duration – truly this perfume shows no clemency.
A solid take on the floral watery-sharp sandalwood theme. Clemency starts with an incredibly translucent, hyper feminine and sophisticated accord of musk, green leaves, probably neroli, red berries, aqueous rose-peonia, magnolia and cassis (unfolding by soon "arcane" soapy accents). Superb. Gradually sandalwood and leather rise up making more solid but slightly less ethereal the aroma. The floral notes hold on in the meanwhile to be pungent, articulated, fruity, barely balmy and vegetal. Anyway Humiecki&Graef Clemency holds on till (almost) the end romantic, deeply floral (rose-mimosa-peonia like), greenish and supremely sharp (fluidy) despite a soothing musky-"milky" background encompasses finally the elements. Frankly on skin the "milkish" side performs as a vaguely soapy synthetic undertone counteracting the veritable resinous (yes, vaguely incensey) green-floral-lymphatic feel. The dry down is intensely woody-floral, still green, ultra classy, still vaguely soapy-cosmetic, classic in style and finally slightly (barely) leathery. Anyway soft (soapy) sandalwood, sharp floral muskiness and resinous elements settle the aroma down like a decidedly smooth and velvety caress. Totally endorsed and recommended to all those indipendent women which wish to stand out in a classy and traditional (though modern) way.
A contemporary floral chypre, a transparent and metallic take on classic feminine scents themes. You clearly smell rose, green notes, aldehydes, a camphor-musky base, fresh citrus/lime notes, perhaps also mint or something equally bitter and fresh (I guess it's the cassis, which is an ingredient I do not know). Velvety, kind of odd base of amber, benzoin, rooty-earthy notes with almost a stale-mold flavour. It soon arises a calone note, quite metallic and somehow milky and opalescent, which gives a sort of filmy, pale density to the fragrance - and in broad terms, an azure-airy "chic" factor. Ambery-dusty-silky drydown, slightly floral, elegant and pleasant. To be honest: not bad, but a bit of a dull scent, not even pleasant at first – then a bit more, but in a totally anonym and negligible way.
The fragrance opens with a green-floral blast (linden, green watery rose and cassis)... It starts sweet-ish and sparkling with a remarkably classic, sort of leathery-chyprey vibe but it rapidly turns into an hyper-modern dry sandalwood with milky facets and sharp woody-incensey undertones.
It's actually pretty stunning how the fragrance transitions from a sparkling and sort of transparent opening to the opaque-milky woody drydown..
As usual with H&G, the fragrance plays several mainstream-oriented accords while Laudamiel's treatment provides a solid quirky twist. Not as striking and unconventional as Skarb yet pretty satisfying. Fans of high quality synth-woods, take note.
Words of caution: gross on paper. Smells like full fat milk. On skin, on the other hand, the milky aspect gets brutally tamed down and serves as a necessary counterpart to soften the sharp woody notes creating an interesting juxtaposition.
Fantastic projection and stellar lasting power.