Hayati

Hayati reads like a dessert course rendered in fragrance—specifically, one of those deconstructed berry tarts where the fruit has been reduced to its most concentrated, almost syrupy essence. Yann Vasnier has built this around a frank sweetness that doesn't apologise for itself; the opening berry syrup and raspberry create an immediate olfactory impression of jammy intensity, the kind that coats your palate with sticky-fingered pleasure. What prevents this from becoming cloying is the blackcurrant that emerges in the heart, which brings a subtle vegetal edge and slight astringency that cuts through the sweetness like a knife through coulis. The floral notes hovering beneath are minimal—they're present more as a whisper than a statement, a powdery softness that prevents the composition from collapsing entirely into fruit preserves.

The synthetic accord (76%) is noticeable here, particularly in how those fruity notes feel almost hyperreal, like they've been processed through a laboratory rather than plucked from a hedgerow. It's not off-putting; rather, it amplifies the confectionery character. The real masterstroke is the vanilla ice cream base paired with white musk—this transforms Hayati from a straightforward fruity gourmand into something slightly cooler, slightly creamier, with an almost lactonic quality that suggests melting gelato rather than heavy vanilla custard. This is for the person who gravitates towards pink-hued fragrances, who enjoys sweetness without guilt, and who doesn't mind a synthetic gleam. It's best suited to warmer months or evening wear when you want something unambiguously pleasurable.