Osafume
Olympic Orchids

I'm a fan of anise, but unfortunately the latex note in the middle killed it for me. It reminds me a bit of African Orchard, but a bit less vibrant and complex. Osafume opens up nicely with magnolia (magnolia alba? I believe, as it's not indolic at all) and anise. After about 5 or so minutes, the latex note appears. Unfortunately. This eventually fades and you're left with the rest of the notes and the vanilla. In the end, very powdery, soft, and very weak vanilla sweetness.

Sometimes I go chasing a specific colour as my version of a wearable mood board, and more often than not, this colour is white. Not a stark, opaque white - that is not at all what I want! Instead, I want a cloudy white tinged with blue, like a splash of water turning a glass of clear Pernod into something dreamily foggy. Here there is a foamy, half-egged vanilla thickened with the sweet, dollhead rubber of heliotrope, rinsed with a licorice root tea, kind of like Molinard's Vanille crossed with Reglisse Noire. And my God, is it charming.

People notice a resemblance to L'Heure Bleue, but the fact is that Osafume's anise + vanilla combination is just a footnote in L'Heure Bleue's over-blown thesis on spices, carnation, rooty iris, and orange blossom. This is an indie take on a minor facet, let's say, and far weirder, far less classical as a whole. At its midpoint, Osafume lurches far too much in the latex glove direction for this to be a Guerlain pastiche. Of course, whether this is a plus or a minus will depend on how much you like the smell of the inside of a latex glove. Me, I find the candied cigarette, the licorice root tea, the dollhead, the foamy-spacey anise-vanilla combination to be a total mood. The latex glove part, though, does give me pause.

I fell in love with this instantly. All the powdery notes, the soft star anise, and the airy musk are a dance, no one note overpowering another. It's truly beautiful, and unlike anything I've smelled on anyone before.

Despite all this, Osafume simultaneously smells like an artistic representation of a latex balloon. There's that subtle powder from the inside that can get on your hands when you blow up a balloon, the taste on your lips that's not necessarily sour, but something else.

"Inspired by a dainty miniature Japanese orchid,Dendrobium moniliforme. Anise and magnolia combine with heliotrope, vanilla, and white musk to make this light, airy fragrance."


An uncomplicated air makes this light floral seem natural and unstructured. That feeling is such an advantage to ones like this, gives them a cottage charm. Soft, pretty, somewhat quiet, somewhat voluptuous, it has a delicate quality, an en pleine painting of of a summer idylle. The anise is surprising - very lightly blended and just the right touch of Guerlain with a non-sweet heliotrope and vanilla here, but no more than a nod in that direction, as Osafume is fairly free of formula or imprint. Long lasting and just as nice on dry down as beginning. Lingers as a skin scent a long time.

Sometimes a chamber ensemble can play the pants off an orchestra. Osafume reminds me of the better Guerlain Acqua Allegorias, beautiful, unencumbered perfumes where the central theme is straightforward yet expressed with grace and perfect balance.
Osafume is the spirit of a summer idyll with tall shrubs of wild anise bursting into bloom, turning passers-by into dozy bees with their subtle yet insistent scent. Many designer fougeres have completely disgraced anisic notes, going for the kind of highly chemical thrust that brings on headaches. Osafume's anise is natural, light and airy, paired with the sighing almond-tinged breath of heliotrope and a whispery vanilla. Heliotrope and vanilla are great natural allies and they help render the overall white feel of this perfume, not snow white but fluffy meringue white (though not sugary). There's a hint of warmth in the composition, star anise perhaps, that rounds it off without weighing down its dreamy, floating mood. A winner.

A unique gourmand, Osofume I (as my sample is labelled) reminded at first of chocolate-flavored saltwater taffy mixed with black licorice. Despite the seemingly strange combination, I really enjoyed the olfactory memories it brought back of an old candy shop on a boardwalk by the beach. After a while, whatever was reminding me of chocolate faded, leaving the licorice over a slightly powdery soapy vanilla. The base ended up being just the soapy vanilla.

This is a little bit simple, but quite enjoyable. It never got too sweet and, despite the candy smells, it never felt stupid or immature, like many vanilla candy gourmands tend to.