Narcisse Chloé

Apricot and orange blossom arrive with immediate brightness, their combined fruitiness sharp and almost zesty, whilst frangipani's creamy sweetness begins its creeping influence beneath. Pot marigold adds a slightly herbal, honeyed warmth that prevents the opening from feeling purely fruity—there's already something cosmetic, almost vintage, whispered into the mix.

By the second hour, narcissus emerges as the true protagonist, its indolic, slightly green quality reshaping the composition's trajectory entirely. Rose and jasmine settle into a tense embrace, the former adding structure whilst the latter contributes animalic richness; those spices create friction against the sweetness, producing something that smells like skin warmed beneath vintage florals rather than florals sprayed atop skin.

What remains after four hours is almost transparent—musk and vanilla create a soft, barely-there veil rather than a substantial base. Sandalwood provides the final thread of continuity, cool and slightly austere, leaving behind something intimate and strangely nostalgic, as if you're catching the ghost of a fragrance rather than its full presence.