№ 10 - Une Rose Vermeille

Une Rose Vermeille occupies an unusual position in Andy Tauer's catalogue—a fragrance that wears its sweetness unabashedly, yet never capitulates into saccharine territory. The opening gesture is crisp and aldehydic, bergamot and lemon providing a luminous framework, but the real intrigue emerges as the composition settles into its heart, where a tart raspberry accord nestles against a rose note that reads less like the dewy florals of classical perfumery and more like the soft, powdered petals of a Victorian sachet. There's something distinctly retro about the combination: the interplay between fruit and floral recalls mid-century femininity, yet the violet and tonka bean base—grounding everything in creamy, almost chalky sweetness—suggests something more contemporary and gender-fluid.

This is a fragrance for someone who gravitates towards the perfumed beauty counter but wants something with genuine complexity. It's neither brash nor whisper-quiet; rather, it exists in that middle register where florals and gourmandise dance together without either dominating entirely. The sandalwood and ambergris prevent the vanilla-tonka base from becoming pure dessert, introducing a subtle woodiness and animalic warmth that prevents the sweetness from cloying. Wear this on days when you want to smell like a sophisticated person with an unironic love of rose-tinged perfumery—someone equally comfortable in a vintage-inspired dress or a sharp tailored suit. It's an afternoon fragrance, perhaps one for layering beneath something with more projection, a confidential scent that rewards proximity.