Fleur de Liane

Ozone crackles sharply across the opening, joined by saline seawater notes that feel genuinely fresh rather than fruity. Within seconds, green herbaceous notes shoulder their way forward, creating an almost verdant, slightly peppery atmosphere that grounds the aquatic sparkle into something earthier and more contemplative.

Magnolia emerges with pale, creamy whispers, but tagetes immediately interrupts with its tart, slightly green-peppery character, preventing any floral softness from taking hold. Tuberose lingers beneath like a murmur, indolic but restrained, while the moss base begins its slow ascent, adding a cool, slightly mineral earthiness that keeps everything grounded.

Woody notes and moss form the foundation, creating a cool, almost chypre-like dryness that's surprisingly austere. What lingers is primarily green and woody—the florals have largely evaporated—leaving a faint, mineral-touched amber that feels more like remembered scent than present perfume, with that characteristically thin sillage making it an intimate rather than projecting whisper.