L’artisan Parfumeur Mandarina Corsica
There are some smells that are just better in summer. And for me, anything gooey and gourmand is best when the days are long and lazy and the skies themselves look like molton candyfloss each evening. That time has come in Sydney and I’ve been wearing the delicious L’artisan Parfumeur Mandarina Corsica on high rotation (and to multiple compliments).
This is not the fresh and spritzy mandarin of, say, Prada’s Infusion. In fact, the bitter, pulpy, robust citrus here seems almost just a vehicle for the most sophisticated caramel I’ve ever had the pleasure of inhaling, insistent as sugar syrup just about to burn on the stove.
It’s a pretty good combo, mandarin that smells like it fell from some old Nonna’s tree, thick skinned and full of pips, and childhood kitchen caramel, the sort of thing that belongs in an old cast iron pot.
But perfumer Quentin Bisch gives us another layer to Mandarina Corsica, and it’s buzzing bees and long dry grass and sunshine. It’s immortelle flower, famous around Corsica apparently but pretty recognisable to anyone who’s ever squashed down a patch of crunchy, parched weeds and flowers to sit in the late afternoon summer sun, the kind of sun that turns all those specks and seeds into golden sparks.
So yeah, it’s delicious and nostalgic and sophisticated candy and if that’s not a perfect scent for a festive summer, I don’t know what is…