Yvresse

Yvresse inhabits a peculiar middle ground—neither quite a fruity floral nor a true chypre, despite the accords suggesting otherwise. Sophia Grojsman has crafted something that feels caught between seasons: the initial brightness of lychee and mandarin orange arrives with genuine juiciness, those stone fruits announcing themselves with crystalline clarity before the fragrance pivots sharply into a rose-violet heart that's distinctly powdery rather than dewy. This isn't the creamy, indolic rose of a traditional soliflore; instead, the floral core reads almost cosmetic, as if someone's dusted the composition with talc and dried violets. The patchouli arrives late and subdued, offering earthiness without conviction, never quite grounding the sweeter elements above it.

The character is inherently feminine despite its unisex designation—this is a fragrance for someone drawn to vintage cosmetic bottles and powdered compacts, who appreciates fruit that tastes of artificial sweetness rather than nature. It's nostalgic without being retro, playful without being cloying. Wear it when you want something gentle that won't demand attention, when a whisper suits better than a shout. It's office-appropriate, certainly, but also the kind of scent you'd reach for on days when you want something comforting and slightly dated—like revisiting a beloved perfume from adolescence that remains inexplicably pleasant despite (or because of) its flaws.