Year: 2013
Notes: watermelon, raspberry, blackcurrant, petrichor, thorns, silver fir, black pepper, tobacco leaf, orris, milk, Bourbon vanilla, vetiver, Scottish pine, Atlas Cedar, moss
Comment: Parfum extrait review
"The emerald aquifer. A kingdom of leaves, vines and sweet, wet vegetation."
Originally released in 2010, as an Eau de Parfum, Mare is an intriguing creation. However, one wouldn't classify it as a vegetal or verdant creation by any means, especially in the earthy sense.
Although it starts out fervently green, it's more in the sense of absinthe combined with ripe fruits. The top notes are sweet yet tart, with the watermelon (and possibly some apple) being particularly discernible. There's also a spicy tobacco accent, which gently melds with the lush, sweet and somewhat mentholated opening.
But, while there's a vague balsamic flair, one is unable to notice any earthy or leafy green aspects at any point. Instead, there's a watery and mineral-like aura that, when combined with the fruits and absinthe, establishes an aroma that's redolent of fermented grapes. Upon further investigation, the petrichor component seems to be the catalyst for this olfactory effect.
Petrichor is the scent of rain on dry earth. Originating from the oil secretion of certain plants during dry periods, this oil is absorbed into the surrounding soil and rocks. It's only during rainfall when the oil is released into the air – producing a distinctive smell that's herbaceous or vegetal (ozone is also present, if there's lightning). With balmy mineral qualities, both its aroma and flavour can be found in wines, particularly in younger whites.
Bearing this in mind, especially as a creamy heart takes hold, Mare begins to resemble Pear + Olive (sans the greasy olive oil note). The orris is there but castrated, and the vetiver is quite mild in its delivery. As for the rest of the woods, they are relatively subdued throughout the drydown, as traces of the top notes continue to faintly exhibit their former 'aquiferous' glory.
Going by the quoted description, above, it doesn't actually succeed in achieving its goal. However, as they both share certain olfactory parallels, one does consider Mare to be much better than Pear + Olive. While the green, vegetal and woody premise is sorely lacking, one never really had any high expectations in the first place.
As with most of the Slumberhouse extraits, it's not a powerhouse and has average staying power.
Originally released in 2010, as an Eau de Parfum, Mare is an intriguing creation. However, one wouldn't classify it as a vegetal or verdant creation by any means, especially in the earthy sense.
Although it starts out fervently green, it's more in the sense of absinthe combined with ripe fruits. The top notes are sweet yet tart, with the watermelon (and possibly some apple) being particularly discernible. There's also a spicy tobacco accent, which gently melds with the lush, sweet and somewhat mentholated opening.
But, while there's a vague balsamic flair, one is unable to notice any earthy or leafy green aspects at any point. Instead, there's a watery and mineral-like aura that, when combined with the fruits and absinthe, establishes an aroma that's redolent of fermented grapes. Upon further investigation, the petrichor component seems to be the catalyst for this olfactory effect.
Petrichor is the scent of rain on dry earth. Originating from the oil secretion of certain plants during dry periods, this oil is absorbed into the surrounding soil and rocks. It's only during rainfall when the oil is released into the air – producing a distinctive smell that's herbaceous or vegetal (ozone is also present, if there's lightning). With balmy mineral qualities, both its aroma and flavour can be found in wines, particularly in younger whites.
Bearing this in mind, especially as a creamy heart takes hold, Mare begins to resemble Pear + Olive (sans the greasy olive oil note). The orris is there but castrated, and the vetiver is quite mild in its delivery. As for the rest of the woods, they are relatively subdued throughout the drydown, as traces of the top notes continue to faintly exhibit their former 'aquiferous' glory.
Going by the quoted description, above, it doesn't actually succeed in achieving its goal. However, as they both share certain olfactory parallels, one does consider Mare to be much better than Pear + Olive. While the green, vegetal and woody premise is sorely lacking, one never really had any high expectations in the first place.
As with most of the Slumberhouse extraits, it's not a powerhouse and has average staying power.
* A special thanks goes out to Lyn for making this review possible.
Disclaimer: Since some Slumberhouse releases are always being 'improved', and with various formulations of the same fragrance in existence, this review is based on the sample(s) received. Due to the lack of information about these reformulations, one is unable to confirm the actual formulation(s) that has/have been reviewed. As a result, your experience of this fragrance may greatly differ. Understandably, it's all very confusing.
