Technically, it was two days before Christmas that I met Marina* in Athens for a cocktail and a chat – but one shouldn’t let facts get in the way of a good blog post title. Or even a mediocre one, as titles are always difficult. It was a lovely evening for many reasons, most not relevant for this post. What is relevant, however, is that Marina gave me a little bag with perfume samples.

Now, generally there are two things I recommend people NOT to give me: books and perfume. It is very likely that I already own that book/perfume or if not, have considered it and decided against. If you are not on the same obsession level with me, and not intimately aware of my preferences and purchase history, I am a horrible person to gift these items to, trust me. There are, however, exceptions, and this is one. First, Marina has encyclopedic perfume knowledge and impeccable taste that has a large overlap with mine (the latter is not a prerequisite for impeccable taste, but it helps with recommendations). Second, she has followed my perfume posts and knows what I own and what I like. She is perfectly positioned, therefore, to give me any perfume she deems appropriate.

As soon as I got back to my Airbnb, I put on some Marienbad – one of the Prada Olfactories. While Purple Rain is possibly the best and most ‘me’ scent in the line (it’s mostly iris, which I love, and Prada excels at iris), Marienbad is arguably the most interesting. I have never been to this almost mythical town of Mitteleuropa, but I imagine the perfume smells exactly as the hotels there: old-fashioned, somewhat stuffy and eccentric, but with oodles of class. On me, it’s a powdery, woody, ambery leather – one of the very few perfumes where I actually like amber. What I mostly appreciate about this scent is that is a true composition, not just a variation on a note, as many niche fragrances tend to be these days. Very much like Prada’s whole aesthetic, the scent is simultaneously off-kilter and irresistibly appealing.

Another note I’m usually not a fan of is incense. It’s perfectly fine as an accent and I can enjoy incense-dominating fragrances, but it’s not something I gravitate towards. I am big on matching my perfumes with experiences, however, so obviously could not miss the opportunity to wear James Heeley’s Eau Sacrée to the monasteries of Meteora. What an excellent idea, if I do say so myself. Not only was it a perfect match for the magnificent mountains and the tiny churches covered in frescoes, it is also just a great scent. Many people describe it as full-on, but I find it almost soft. Unfortunately, I don’t remember Heeley’s Cardinal that Eau Sacrée is often compared to. I do remember Comme des Garçons Avignon, however, which although brilliant, I find rather relentless and too churchy. I don’t have any such problems with Eau Sacrée: it has a green piny freshness from frankincense and a bit of rose that I cannot smell, but which surely contributes to the more rounded, less austere character of the perfume. I sometimes find incense in churches quite overwhelming; in Meteora, the smell was lived-in, lingering from countless services of the past and comforting rater than imposing. I get a similar vibe from the dry-down of Eau Sacrée.

I wore another Heeley, the sadly discontinued Ophelia on the New Year’s Eve. Now, this is much more my territory – I love white florals and they are my default choice for big occasions. Ophelia is a gorgeous example of the genre and on the less suffocating end of the spectrum; I have no issues with BIG white florals, I used to wear Fracas every day for months, but I realise this is not for everyone. Ophelia is a creamy, lovely mix of tuberose, jasmine, ylang ylang and I suspect a bit of gardenia, too. Sometimes I believe I detect a trace of lilac, although that might just be an olfactive mirage. There is a dewy aspect to this scent which makes me think of Un Matin d’Orage, and there is also a bit of greenery that works especially well when one wears white florals in winter. What a pity this beauty is no more.

In a different example of matching the perfume to the occasion, I wore Keiko Mecheri’s Musc to bed in Thessaloniki a few days ago. This fragrance does exactly what it says on the tin – it is a cosy, light, powdery musc scent. In most situations, I would find this desperately boring, solinotes in general are not hugely exciting and that’s even more the case for clean muscs specifically. I really enjoyed Musc, however. It’s very well done, melds with the skin and works perfectly if you want something low-key and comforting. Apart from a bed, I would wear it on weekends when I want something effortless.

I was happy to see Maison Violet’s Tanagra in the bag, as I have been curious about this resurrected French perfume house for a while. Tanagra also happens to belong to one of my favourite perfume families, as it’s a woody floral. To my nose, it’s in fact a violet-cedar perfume. That’s a bit strange, as violet is not listed as a note: either I’m influenced by the name of the brand or it’s the combination of iris with other florals and fruits that makes me think of violet – this often happens, as iris and violet have a similar smell, but the latter is less austere. In any event, this duality is what I get: florals and fruits above (according to the notes: tangerine, pear, freesia, peony, iris, jasmine) and woods below (cedar, vetiver). It’s a very nice scent, but to someone used to the perfection of Feminite de Bois of Serge Lutens, the cedar here can feel slightly screechy. I cannot compare right now, but what Tanagra makes me think of is less the Lutens takes on violet and wood, more Byredo’s Unnamed. Tanagra’s name, by the way, comes form ancient Greek statues illustrating female beauty – bringing me neatly back to Greece.

I only took one perfume with me to Greece (shocking, I know), so this little testing adventure has been perfectly timed. It has also reminded me of one reason I fell so hard for perfumes years ago – the nerdiness, warmth and generosity of the smelly community. Fragrances are easier to share than beauty products or clothes and therefore allow for a lot of fun that doesn’t require buying a new expensive bottle. In fact, enjoying smells doesn’t even require perfume – as I have noted before. Let’s keep that in mind for 2020.

PS These are all initial impressions based on one proper wear plus some additional testing over a few days. Your mileage, as always, may vary.

*She is a reader of this blog and an Instagram friend, we had never met in real life before. She is on Instagram as @frenchleathersandfog.