Amorist

Amorist is Christian Carbonnel's unapologetic love letter to the grand white florals of haute parfumerie, stripped of irony and delivered with straight-faced sincerity. The magnolia opening blooms immediately, its creamy-green petals brushed with bergamot's citric sparkle and the dark, slightly tart edge of blackcurrant that keeps the composition from tipping into pure sweetness. This is no timid, watercolour floral—Carbonnel layers lily's dewy, almost soapy clarity against jasmine's indolic warmth and ylang ylang's banana-custard richness, creating a heart that oscillates between clean and carnal. The effect is full-bodied but surprisingly fresh, as if someone's captured the humid air of a conservatory just after the gardeners have watered the beds.

What grounds this opulent florality is the base's clever restraint: patchouli appears in its cleaner, non-hippie guise, providing earthy structure without overwhelming; vanilla adds roundness rather than gourmandise; and musk threads through it all with a skin-like, slightly powdery intimacy. The sweetness registers as natural nectary, not confected. This is for the wearer who doesn't apologise for loving traditionally feminine materials, regardless of their gender—someone who understands that 'pretty' can be a radical choice in an era obsessed with edgy, challenging compositions. It's the scent of lingering in museum galleries on weekday mornings, of handwritten notes on heavy paper, of knowing exactly how much scent to wear without needing to be told.