Vent Vert is the River Tam of spring scents: dancing about barefoot with flowers in her hair, but also, she can kill you with her brain.

I have never met a Germaine Cellier perfume that I didn’t love, nor found an overdose of galbanum that was too much. And while No.19 might wither you with a look, Vent Vert is weaponised prettiness.

The first Calice Becker reformulation of this wasn’t awful–though it was a short story version rather than the three volume original novel–but the later ones barely reach the level of broken twitter bot. One day I will find a giant bottle of the vintage EDT and all will be well*.

Until then, I will douse myself with this perfume, or wear @papillon_artisan_perfumes Dryad and @vero_kern Mito for my gorgeous complicated greens.

* aye, I found one:

originally posted 2 May 2019