I love this.
A lush, strutting floral, Iris Tubéreuse smells not of iris powder or tuberose blooms, but of the most head-turning blue hyacinths – a fierce galbanum and violet leaf head note, fused with white lilies, tuberose, and muguet, that gives the rocket green illusion of hyacinthine fireworks – the most brilliantly self-conscious party entrance.
This is a scent that demands to be sprayed just prior to your arrival for the maximum impact. The upward gush of flowers – verdant, spring-like, enticing – cuts through the air like a scythe : imposing, striking, and vivid ( I have a real thing for hyacinths; the push up through the earth; that heady and entrancing smell that verges on the hypnotic).
Later, the closing stages of the perfume prove possibly less perfect, more synthetic and confused (orange blossom, vanilla, musk), in the way that hyacinth perfumes almost always do (think Tom Ford Ombre De Hyacinth and Serge Lutens Bas De Soie), but that slightly more smudged and less inspiring effect might just be on male skin.
On the right individual, though, one who loves green florals and the vivacious, florid overture; the sensation of being garlanded in fresh, living flowers and their ensuing sharp and purifiying distancing from the soiled quotidian reality of existence; Iris Tubéreuse, despite its high cost, is most definitely worth your scrutiny.