Zara
Zara
287 votes
A unique visual signature based on accords, character, and seasonality
Aldehydes crackle across the skin like static electricity, launching bergamot and lemon into a bright, almost soapy stratosphere. Lavender and clary sage muscle in immediately, creating that classic aromatic tension between clean and green, whilst neroli adds a touch of bitter orange peel that keeps everything from smelling too polite.
Frankincense smoke curls around a spicy geranium core, the resinous quality making the whole composition feel like incense burning in a leather goods shop. Angelica contributes an earthy, slightly medicinal quality whilst that mysterious "zenthorium" adds persistent prickle—your nose keeps returning to puzzle out that tingling, peppery note that refuses to sit still.
The base settles into classic territory: oakmoss and patchouli create the backbone, damp and green and unapologetically vintage in their intensity. Vetiver's smokiness mingles with a subtle leather accord whilst sandalwood provides just enough creaminess to stop the whole thing from feeling utterly austere, though "creamy" is generous—this dries down proper and lean.
This fragrance is a magnificent impostor—its vanilla-scented name promises soft-serve sweetness, but what you actually get is a proper vintage aromatic fougère with serious intentions. The opening bursts with a sharp aldehydic fizz that lifts bergamot and lavender into an almost metallic brightness, whilst clary sage and neroli add a slightly bitter, herbaceous edge that cuts through any potential sweetness. This is the kind of scent that feels like it should be found in a mahogany-panelled barbershop circa 1963 (which makes the listed year either wonderfully apt or suspiciously anachronistic for a Zara release).
The heart reveals where the spicy accord earns its top billing: frankincense smoke mingles with peppery geranium whilst angelica root contributes an earthy, gin-like quality. There's an odd note listed as "zenthorium"—possibly zanthoxylum (Sichuan pepper)?—which would explain the tingling, almost numbing spice that threads through the composition. The leather accord emerges gradually, not screaming "biker jacket" but rather whispering "worn book binding."
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Penhaligon's
3.6/5 (398)