I am addicted to Grin. The boronia is sensational. Combined with galbanum (I adore galbanum) green pepper, and violet leaf, this is as green as any perfume can be. It is a virtual trip down the produce isle or through the floral department refrigerator. Plus, there is jasmine grandifloum (a full, sweet floral) my darling oakmoss (which one can no longer find in most commercial perfumes) and woody, grassy vetiver. Gorgeously, lavishly, green. Put some on and return to spring, any time of the year, guaranteed.

Oh my! The topnotes are such a rush of spring! Very green and leafy with a slight bitterness like real leaves, giving way to a bloom of delicate flowers that smell real, not perfumey. There is a momentary heart-twist when I smell my grandmother’s garden (the boronia note, I think), and am overwhelmed with longing for that long-gone beloved place. At the bottom there is the cello note of oudh, the reminder that spring passes, that everything is mortal and this makes the fragrance all the more poignant. Grin is more of a meditation pleasure than a wear-it-out-and-about fragrance. I enjoyed sitting quietly at home with it and sniffing it, experiencing it while it rolled out its tale of spring budding, bursting and passing, but when I wore it out in the world and through my day it got lost, the way the delicacy of spring can be missed if the heart is not attentive.