Sylvaine Delacourte
A unique visual signature based on accords, character, and seasonality
The initial assault is almost brisk—yuzu and Italian lime create a luminous, slightly resinous brightness that momentarily dominates, with pear adding a soft, juicy counterpoint that prevents the citrus from becoming purely aldehydic. Cedar enters immediately, its dry, slightly pencil-like character anchoring what could otherwise feel weightless and fleeting.
As the citrus begins its inevitable fade, hawthorn and French angelica emerge with surprising presence, introducing a green-floral complexity that feels almost botanical in its precision. The rose surfaces gently, creamy and somewhat powdery, whilst the musk base begins to warm the composition, lending a subtle skin-like intimacy that didn't quite register in the opening.
Haitian vetiver finally steps forward with its characteristic earthy, slightly smoky minerality, anchoring the remaining musk and Moroccan mastic into a soft, herbaceous conclusion that's more whisper than presence. What remains is more of an atmospheric suggestion than a forceful base—green, lightly woody, with that creamy musk providing a velvety finish rather than any true longevity.
Smeraldo arrives as a study in crystalline green architecture—Italian lime and yuzu colliding with a whisper of pear to create something simultaneously sharp and honeyed. Delacourte has crafted a fragrance that leans decidedly towards the botanical rather than the gourmand, with cedar threading through the opening like the structural skeleton of the composition. What's intriguing here is how hawthorn and French angelica emerge to soften what could have been an austere citrus-woody affair; these floral hearts introduce an almost herbal femininity that prevents the scent from tilting too heavily masculine. The creamy accord suggests a subtle milky undertone—perhaps the musk already beginning its whispered intervention—that prevents the composition from becoming austere or soapy.
This is a fragrance for someone who gravitates towards the verdant and understated; there's an intellectual quality to Smeraldo, a sense that you're wearing something considered rather than merely pleasant. The rose is restrained, playing supporting character to the green and fresh elements, which speaks to a certain restraint in design philosophy. It's equally at home on skin as it would be worn by someone who appreciates the garlic-and-herb brightness of a Mediterranean market as much as they do florals. Wear this when you want to smell like someone who gardens in linen, who knows the difference between petrichor and rain, who approaches fragrance as a quiet statement rather than a declaration. It's contemplative without being melancholic—the fragrance equivalent of late morning light filtering through an open window.
Add fragrances to your collection and unlock your personalised scent DNA, note map, and shareable identity card.
3.8/5 (84)