Many niche perfume companies follow a similar strategy: they have a collection featuring their take on the main perfume notes like jasmine and vetiver and vanilla. And so they have scents called Jasmine and Vetiver and Vanilla. Or if they are feeling adventurous, it could be Lush Jasmine, Very Vetiver and Oriental Vanilla.

The plus side of this approach is that it makes talking about these perfumes and comparing them relatively easy. You can say that Lush Jasmine didn’t really feel lush to you at all, that it was in fact much fresher and cleaner than White Jasmine, which you thought was surprisingly indolic! If you have some knowledge of main perfume notes, you’ll get by.

The other option is to go for a concept, a story, an idea to express in perfume. This can be equally effective, also with people who cannot tell a rose from a block of cedarwood (in olfactory terms, of course, visually they are pretty different). When something is called Pretty Flowers or A Night in the Harem, it’ll give you an idea of the perfume without any need for an extensive list of ingredients.

The thing with The Afternoon of a Faun is that while it’s a classic concept scent, I cannot really connect it to the scandalous ballet of Nijinsky. I don’t find it erotic or sensual or shocking or avant-garde at all. It’s also so well blended that it doesn’t smell of any particular ingredient, it just smells like itself. Which makes it very difficult to describe, especially for a novice with a dull nose.

What I do know is what The Afternoon of a Faun makes my think of: I associate it with museums, libraries, bookshops, galleries and theatres. To me, it smells of old wood and dried flowers, worn leather and the remnants of incense. There is a waxy facet (some sort of resin?) that makes me think of waxed floorboards. All this sounds heavy, but it isn’t, really. While it smells a bit like an attic full of books and antique treasures and old things, the attic has just been aired and a little sunshine let in. It seems like all the scents that were here just a minute ago have blurred together and started to fade away.

It is an intriguing, unique scent, but in a way almost conservative. I find it slightly ironic that Etat Libre d’Orange, one of the most modern niche lines out there, has somehow produced a scent that to my nose recalls anything but modernism. But all this is in the end irrelevant: I’ve worn The Afternoon of a Faun several times this week, for an art exhibition and reading on the divan. It works so well in this grey, cold, damp summer weather and this is the only thing that counts.