L'Artisan Parfumeur
L'Artisan Parfumeur
137 votes
A unique visual signature based on accords, character, and seasonality
The broom strikes first with its dry, almost faintly soapy greenness, immediately joined by a cool fig leaf that feels less ripe orchard and more garden foliage after rain. A bright peach punctures through, though it's surprisingly crisp and shadowed, lacking any honeyed warmth—the topnotes establish themselves as distinctly verdant rather than sweet.
The fig itself finally emerges with proper presence, developing a chalky, almost mineral quality as the almond milk creates an unexpected creamy texture that softens the composition's edges. Dried fruits accumulate subtly, introducing fermented, wine-like undertones whilst fig wood and coconut milk arrive together, creating a woody-creamy duality that feels almost luxurious—though the wood keeps it grounded and austere.
The coconut milk and sandalwood establish a soft, skin-like base, though the fig wood and a whisper of pine needle prevent any vanilla-adjacent cloying. What remains is a fragrance increasingly woody and creamy-pale, the fruity elements now merely structural memory, leaving behind something abstract and almost library-like—warm paper, distant fruit, gentle wood smoke.
Premier Figuier Extrême unfolds as a peculiar paradox: a fragrance that tastes green whilst smelling distinctly fruited, as though Olivia Giacobetti has distilled the precise moment when an unripe fig's herbaceous bite collides with honeyed sweetness. The broom note arrives first—that distinctive, almost dusty greenness—but it's immediately tempered by fig leaf's cooler, leafier whisper and a peach that leans savoury rather than juicy. This is not a fragrance that coddles you with fruit compote; instead, it presents figs in their most austere, almost vegetable-like state.
What emerges in the heart is genuinely masterful: the fig proper develops into something chalky and mineral-tinged, whilst almond milk introduces a creamy texture that prevents the composition from becoming shrill. The dried fruits—apricot and perhaps prune—add a dark, slightly fermented undertone that prevents saccharine drift. The woodiness enters quietly, with fig wood contributing an almost papery dryness that recalls chewed bark. This is a fragrance for someone who appreciates complexity over comfort, who wants their florals green and their fruits tart.
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4.0/5 (74)