It is interesting how any type of nerd culture can simultaneously connect and isolate you. I love to be a part of things like the big Marvel Avengers moment, but also get impatient with people who watch it, but don’t ‘get’ it (I do try not to be a knob about it and keep it to myself). Since I developed a serious interest in perfume, I found a fantastic community online which whom to discuss the different formulas of vintage Guerlains, but at the same I time almost lost the ability to speak about perfume to normal people. I was simply interested in different aspects of perfumes and too obsessed to hold a light conversation on the topic.

To this day, when people ask me to name a sexy perfume, I panic. It’s not really a category I use when thinking about perfume. In my head, I have sections for wood and iris scents, chypres and big white florals. I analyse the notes and structures of fragrances, I compare the execution of similar ideas. While I do create stories around my perfumes and often have designated themes for them (comfort scents, kicking butt in the office scents, dreaming of beach scents, not annoying anyone scents, etc), sexiness doesn’t usually come into it. Or if it does, it is almost never the dominant characteristic. If I think about it, I find leather scents sexy, but this is not how I label them, the are leather scents to me. Same goes for the category Dark & Rich which includes perfumes like Tom Ford London, Arquiste Nanban and Anubis by Papillon Artisan Perfumes.

I’m sure you can sense there is an exception to this rule coming and there is. Velvet Gardenia has always been a scent I find very sensual. It is a heady floral, but a dark one: there is no sexiness without depth. I am a big lover of white flowers and gardenia is my favourite among them. It is more interesting than jasmine and more perverse than tuberose. Mostly, however, it’s cleaned up for modern perfumery, leaving you with lovely, but rather boring dewy petals.

Velvet Gardenia is not lovely nor is it boring; it is certainly beautiful, but it isn’t for everyone. If you have ever smelled a real gardenia, its smell has a slightly mushroom-y, earthy nuance that is also present in the Ford version. It doesn’t sound very appealing, but as is often the case, huge, intoxicating florals work better when there is something to add interest and to anchor them – Serge Lutens Sarrasins follows a similar formula and I adore it as well.

Tom Ford discontinued Velvet Gardenia some years ago and has now brought it back as part of his Reserve Collection, complete with a golden label and insane price. I bought it anyway, as I have been missing it terribly and there is no-one like Tom to get me pay ridiculous amounts of money for tiny objects. While I do still love it, I think the formula has been changed and unfortunately (for me), away from the darkness and weirdness towards a more classically beautiful white floral. It could be my mind playing tricks on me or just a case of absence making the heart grow fonder, but some of the richness seems to be gone, especially in the dry down. Be it as it may, all statement floral lovers should give it a sniff.