Sortilège

Sortilège arrives as a profoundly feminine aldehydic floral that channels the powdery elegance of mid-century French glamour—think Arpège's crystalline architecture rather than modern fruity diffusion. Thomas Fontaine constructs something deliberately old-fashioned here, built on a foundation of lily of the valley and lilac that immediately establishes a green-tinged, slightly soapy freshness before the aldehydes kick in with their characteristic waxy shimmer. These aldehydes don't sparkle aggressively; instead, they soften the florals into something almost creamy, lending a subtle powder-compact quality to what could otherwise feel sharp and atmospheric.

The heart reveals the real complexity: a densely layered convergence of Egyptian jasmine (indolic and slightly animalic), iris (earthy, slightly rooty), and mimosa (honeyed, almost buttery) that builds steadily into the second and third hours. Turkish rose and narcissus add a slightly bitter, green counterpoint—narcissus particularly prevents the composition from becoming cloying, introducing a faint vegetal greenness that cuts through the sweeter floral masses. This is unmistakably a powdery chypre accord, the amber and labdanum emerging subtly beneath rather than dominating.