Reviews of Synthetic Nature / Synthetic Jungle by Editions de Parfums Frederic Malle
This is an old school vibe fragrance. I've smelled this before, I just can't think of what fragrance it smells like. I definitely got the jasmine and lily of the valley right away. This seems like something an older woman would wear. Very classy woman who is well established. This one is just not for me. Again, these Frederic Malle fragrances have quality ingredients.
I was born in the wrong period. I should've been born in 50s, or perhaps the 60s, so that I could've thoroughly enjoyed the green perfume craze of the 1970s. I love green perfumes - whether it's galbanum, vetiver, grasses, herbs, etc. - I have a bias and a natural fondness for them. I would've worn No. 19 and Private Collection to death. I would've missed the launch of Vent Vert, but it would've been a lot easier to track down a bottle in great condition (and of a good formulation) much more so than it is today. But I wasn't born at a time to appreciate the perfumes in that period as new, and instead I was born of a time when I could appreciate Malle instead. Synthetic Jungle is not the first time Malle has harkened back to perfumes of yesteryear. Musc Ravageur of the brand's launch was an ode to Shalimar, more or less as an example, so when one of my favorite brands of the 21st century said that their new perfume drew from the 70s green classics of No. 19 - probably my favorite Chanel - and Private Collection it was all that I could do to not be overly gleeful in anticipation... and then I read the press blurb and became confused.
Using words like "modern" and "old", "natural" and "synthetic", "hyper realistic" and "fantastical", the blurb juxtaposes descriptive antonyms so close to each other that you get the feeling that Malle is intentionally trying to confuse us, or perhaps ask us a question without ever really driving at one. When you smell Synthetic Jungle, this is certainly confirmed. If you thought No. 19 and Private Collection were tours de force in greenness, buckle-up and hold onto your hats. I was right to be confused by Malle's description because definitely upon the first 30 minutes to an hour of the perfume, and not to spoil the plot but throughout the remaining life of the perfume as well, the descriptors of "old", "natural", and "hyper realistic" do not apply. "Modern", "synthetic", and "fantastical" certainly do. We've all seen that sci-fi movie - take your pick of which one because there is a massive number of them - where we, the audience, are far in the future of human civilization where technology has exploded past its current state, we've explored the outer reaches of space, and for some reason or another "plants" have to be grown in these almost-comically scientific environments: the jungle of the far future is instead some massive greenhouse-type enclosure of glass or some other perfectly clear material, perfectly hygienic white structures holding it in place, the sounds and visuals of unfathomable technology whirling away to keep these plants at their most optimum state, the plants themselves are some mixture of the familiar and the extraterrestrial - so hyper-saturated in color (at least on our 4K televisions screens) that they look unnatural to an impossible degree. That is what Synthetic Jungle smells like.
Whereas No. 19 and Private Collection could somewhat get away with calling themselves vaguely naturalistic in their hyper-greenness by presenting a palpable texture - call it powderiness if you will - Synthetic Jungle does not give its greenness a palpable texture. There is a shine and a gloss to it that is smoother than glass and equally impenetrable. According to Malle this is an effect of a synthetic material meant to smell of black currant. I can believe that because 1) there is a fruitiness to the galbanum that is not so much the taste or smell of fruit but the color of fruit; I can see the purple of the black currant, but I can't really taste or smell it - if that makes sense (probably not, sorry); it's like light is being bent through a glass prism to give you the purple spectrum wave. And 2) this slightly sour fruitiness has no naturalness to it at all, so I have no problem believing it is 100% synthetic. The lily, hyacinth, and jasmine heart presents more naturalistically thanks to having the textural effects that the galbanum top did not, but that line between natural and synthetic is incredibly blurry. One thing to be said though is that it is very pretty: stylishly and beautifully blended, and colorful. The moss and patchouli base is very quiet but keeps to the theme. It's a load of rubbish but for some reason the first thought to enter my head was the smell you get from a desktop PC tower after you've turned it off from hours of running; the moss and patchouli notes don't olfactorily smell like very warm metals and plastics, but there is a quiet heat and steam to the base that made me think of this for some reason.
This is a very bold perfume in its vision and composition. It's meant to challenge. The highly polarized reception to it is a strong indicator of this fact. The green perfumes of the 70s were more emotional and heartfelt, intending to connect you with nature by bending your perception of it a bit. Synthetic Jungle is a sci-fi epic meant to distort your perception of nature to the point where you think you might be going insane. It took many wears for me to finally come to grips with it, and to have an understanding of what it was making me smell, think, and feel. You must give it time and plenty of attempts, and, even then, there is no guarantee you'll be won over. It certainly won me. (This review was posted from The Matrix.)
Using words like "modern" and "old", "natural" and "synthetic", "hyper realistic" and "fantastical", the blurb juxtaposes descriptive antonyms so close to each other that you get the feeling that Malle is intentionally trying to confuse us, or perhaps ask us a question without ever really driving at one. When you smell Synthetic Jungle, this is certainly confirmed. If you thought No. 19 and Private Collection were tours de force in greenness, buckle-up and hold onto your hats. I was right to be confused by Malle's description because definitely upon the first 30 minutes to an hour of the perfume, and not to spoil the plot but throughout the remaining life of the perfume as well, the descriptors of "old", "natural", and "hyper realistic" do not apply. "Modern", "synthetic", and "fantastical" certainly do. We've all seen that sci-fi movie - take your pick of which one because there is a massive number of them - where we, the audience, are far in the future of human civilization where technology has exploded past its current state, we've explored the outer reaches of space, and for some reason or another "plants" have to be grown in these almost-comically scientific environments: the jungle of the far future is instead some massive greenhouse-type enclosure of glass or some other perfectly clear material, perfectly hygienic white structures holding it in place, the sounds and visuals of unfathomable technology whirling away to keep these plants at their most optimum state, the plants themselves are some mixture of the familiar and the extraterrestrial - so hyper-saturated in color (at least on our 4K televisions screens) that they look unnatural to an impossible degree. That is what Synthetic Jungle smells like.
Whereas No. 19 and Private Collection could somewhat get away with calling themselves vaguely naturalistic in their hyper-greenness by presenting a palpable texture - call it powderiness if you will - Synthetic Jungle does not give its greenness a palpable texture. There is a shine and a gloss to it that is smoother than glass and equally impenetrable. According to Malle this is an effect of a synthetic material meant to smell of black currant. I can believe that because 1) there is a fruitiness to the galbanum that is not so much the taste or smell of fruit but the color of fruit; I can see the purple of the black currant, but I can't really taste or smell it - if that makes sense (probably not, sorry); it's like light is being bent through a glass prism to give you the purple spectrum wave. And 2) this slightly sour fruitiness has no naturalness to it at all, so I have no problem believing it is 100% synthetic. The lily, hyacinth, and jasmine heart presents more naturalistically thanks to having the textural effects that the galbanum top did not, but that line between natural and synthetic is incredibly blurry. One thing to be said though is that it is very pretty: stylishly and beautifully blended, and colorful. The moss and patchouli base is very quiet but keeps to the theme. It's a load of rubbish but for some reason the first thought to enter my head was the smell you get from a desktop PC tower after you've turned it off from hours of running; the moss and patchouli notes don't olfactorily smell like very warm metals and plastics, but there is a quiet heat and steam to the base that made me think of this for some reason.
This is a very bold perfume in its vision and composition. It's meant to challenge. The highly polarized reception to it is a strong indicator of this fact. The green perfumes of the 70s were more emotional and heartfelt, intending to connect you with nature by bending your perception of it a bit. Synthetic Jungle is a sci-fi epic meant to distort your perception of nature to the point where you think you might be going insane. It took many wears for me to finally come to grips with it, and to have an understanding of what it was making me smell, think, and feel. You must give it time and plenty of attempts, and, even then, there is no guarantee you'll be won over. It certainly won me. (This review was posted from The Matrix.)
ADVERTISEMENT
A fantastic disco-era chypre crafted from 21st century synthetics, a master class in technical precision and emotional evocation. This is my youth spent in elephant-leg jeans, halter tops, and Famolare High Ups, reading celebrity magazines, wishing I was old enough for Studio 54 then CBGB, tapping my foot for the liberated Girl Boss life that surely was right around the corner once I graduated from a good college. An encapsulation if not the exact smell, then definitely the spirit of every floral chypre that was popular during the 1970s.
Humid foliage, gargantuan monstera leaves, Victoria amazonica, ferns that reach the heavens, and intensely fragrant pearly white flowers: this is what I envision with Synthetic Jungle. It's an alternate dimension where muguet grow gigantic bells that you could crawl into, they droop over and drop condensation that splashes on your head and you start feeling indistinguishable from the botany enveloping you.
Bluebells carpet the forest floor, a distant flute is heard, much like that which is heard in Edgar Froese's "Epsilon in Malaysian Pale." I can almost taste it all, especially the black currant, I feel its tartness in the back of my throat, making my mouth water. Boxwood hedges form a maze, with peculiar climbing vines weaving in and out, with showy pitchers that upon closer inspection, look to be carnivorous, insects entranced by their honeydew, blissfully drowning in ecstasy. Crunchy wet umbellifers crushed and dirty, a mosaic of feathery, parsley-like leaves of varying shades of green, a garden gone feral.
It begs the question of natural vs synthetic and how it's all a matter of perception and experience. Does our insatiable need to identify what we smell rely primarily on a posteriori epistemology or are there other parts in motion? This fragrance feels like those "other parts" in motion. The real and the imaginary are not so easily delineated when beholding the alchemy of scent. Synthetic Jungle escorts the nose into a space of beauty and puzzlement where the idea of naturalism is rendered supernatural.
Bluebells carpet the forest floor, a distant flute is heard, much like that which is heard in Edgar Froese's "Epsilon in Malaysian Pale." I can almost taste it all, especially the black currant, I feel its tartness in the back of my throat, making my mouth water. Boxwood hedges form a maze, with peculiar climbing vines weaving in and out, with showy pitchers that upon closer inspection, look to be carnivorous, insects entranced by their honeydew, blissfully drowning in ecstasy. Crunchy wet umbellifers crushed and dirty, a mosaic of feathery, parsley-like leaves of varying shades of green, a garden gone feral.
It begs the question of natural vs synthetic and how it's all a matter of perception and experience. Does our insatiable need to identify what we smell rely primarily on a posteriori epistemology or are there other parts in motion? This fragrance feels like those "other parts" in motion. The real and the imaginary are not so easily delineated when beholding the alchemy of scent. Synthetic Jungle escorts the nose into a space of beauty and puzzlement where the idea of naturalism is rendered supernatural.
Like Wingie, I had high expectations for this fragrance as I enjoy green fragrances. It definitely is one of the greenest fragrances I have encountered, however, there is a note, possibly hyacinth, that makes it feel a bit too harsh and pushes it into the white floral territory. If it had a different direction and went into a tomato stem note direction instead, I would have preferred it.
In comparison to Diptyque's L'Ombre Dans Leau, I prefer the latter as it feels more realistic, lush, and watery. Nevertheless, Synthetic Jungle has impressive performance, especially for a green fragrance. Furthermore, the name suits the fragrance well, as you do get a synthetic interpretation of lily of the valley. Overall, it smells like "fresh crushed green peppers", as Wingie points out, but with some rough edges that make the entire composition feel a bit artificial or synthetic.
Being synthetic is not necessarily bad, but if you were hoping for a green fragrance like L'Ombre Dans Leau, you may be disappointed.
In comparison to Diptyque's L'Ombre Dans Leau, I prefer the latter as it feels more realistic, lush, and watery. Nevertheless, Synthetic Jungle has impressive performance, especially for a green fragrance. Furthermore, the name suits the fragrance well, as you do get a synthetic interpretation of lily of the valley. Overall, it smells like "fresh crushed green peppers", as Wingie points out, but with some rough edges that make the entire composition feel a bit artificial or synthetic.
Being synthetic is not necessarily bad, but if you were hoping for a green fragrance like L'Ombre Dans Leau, you may be disappointed.
Synthetic Jungle feels to me like the future of green chypres, a genre I love. The first part is an encyclopedia of all the green notes in perfumery, from galbanum to tomato stem, accompanied by tons of green and white florals. Underneath, a very elegant dry leathery woody base, which becomes evident after several hours. It is at this stage that one is reminded of that old classic, Bandit, but with the proportion of green and leather reversed. Very powerful, it lasts forever, and smells great from top to bottom.
I love green fragrances and had very high hopes for this one, but it was unfortunately a hard pass. To me it smells exactly like fresh crushed green peppers over lily of the valley; not really what I want from a green perfume, and not what I want to smell like.
People who don’t normally go for green fragrances may like this, but if you love the old-school greens like No. 19, Silences, Vent Vert, Private Collection etc, I think you might be disappointed with Synthetic Jungle. It’s not a traditional green/galbanum accord at all. The last great green floral in this respect was Tom Ford Vert de Fleur - now sadly discontinued.
People who don’t normally go for green fragrances may like this, but if you love the old-school greens like No. 19, Silences, Vent Vert, Private Collection etc, I think you might be disappointed with Synthetic Jungle. It’s not a traditional green/galbanum accord at all. The last great green floral in this respect was Tom Ford Vert de Fleur - now sadly discontinued.
Pretty Green Machine
I love the green genre but Synthetic Jungle left me cold. It's a little too perfect, too re-touched for my taste.
I do enjoy the opening which features sap woven into the greens. It's earthy but does not aspire to realism. It's a bright, Instagram-filtered green that lacks the dark, moist shadows of French Lover or the organic, vegetal green compositions that I enjoy. More than synthetic, a word that can carry pejorative connotations, Synthetic Jungle makes me think of cinematography.
As for the florals, it is hyacinth and muguet forward to me though jasmine comes out in the dry down as the fragrance softens. There is nothing indolic that would sully its character.
While it has classic influences, it's not as sharp as classic vintage greens and it's sleeker in the drydown. I think it's a great effort as a contemporary green but ultimately, it feels a little soulless. I admit this is coming from a strong personal bias so this sits on the high end of neutral for me.
I love the green genre but Synthetic Jungle left me cold. It's a little too perfect, too re-touched for my taste.
I do enjoy the opening which features sap woven into the greens. It's earthy but does not aspire to realism. It's a bright, Instagram-filtered green that lacks the dark, moist shadows of French Lover or the organic, vegetal green compositions that I enjoy. More than synthetic, a word that can carry pejorative connotations, Synthetic Jungle makes me think of cinematography.
As for the florals, it is hyacinth and muguet forward to me though jasmine comes out in the dry down as the fragrance softens. There is nothing indolic that would sully its character.
While it has classic influences, it's not as sharp as classic vintage greens and it's sleeker in the drydown. I think it's a great effort as a contemporary green but ultimately, it feels a little soulless. I admit this is coming from a strong personal bias so this sits on the high end of neutral for me.
Synthetic Jungle by Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle (2021) is a fragrance that proves you don't always need materials from the past to create authentic styles from the past, even if some of the execution here is decidely fresher and more transparent in sillage than most vintage varieties of what this scent embodies. Making a chypre these days is really more an exercise of creative license than following a formula like it was in the old days, and that is mostly because two thirds of the main note trio that defines the chypre are restricted or banned in modern perfumery by IFRA as of 2021. Formerly-restricted atranol is now banned, which cannot be completely separated from oakmoss if you expect to have any oakmoss note actually remain, so oakmoss is for all intents banned too, unless you are a small indie operation that doesn't care about selling inside the EU where IFRA regulation are basically law thanks to the ECC. Likewise, citral in bergamot oil is restricted; but more importantly, many of the natural floral essences and citrus oils that once joined labdanum alongside oakmoss are just too expensive or difficult to source in large quantities, hence the common belief that these kinds of perfumes aren't commercially viable anymore. Classic chypres are the realm of indies these day anyway, whether made with IFRA-restricted materials or not, due to the fact that everyone just seems to like much sweeter and more abstract perfumes anymore, which is why Synthetic Jungle is such fun to smell.
Anne Flipo looks like she had fun making this one too, revisiting greats like Fidji by Guy Laroche (1966) or Chanel Cristalle (1974), bringing a cool, green, slightly fruity, but clearly floral chypre into the future using nothing but synthetics. A black currant note and classic green styralyl acetate (a favorite of Jean Carles) mix with a basil and muguet note in the opening, before hyacinth and ylang-ylang add a slight musky banana-like feel that merges into a tropical gardenia-style essence popular in the era. This essence is then lifted by jasmine hedione and further greened by galbanum, synthetic forms of which have been around for decades themselves. In place of anything like oakmoss or labdanum, we see some clear woody and patchouli materials blend with clean musks, giving a bit of a musk mallow and pencil shavings wood vibe that reminds me a lot of both the aforementioned Cristalle and Jacomo Silences (1978). Synthetic Jungle is not quite the cold boss bitch perfume that I make it out to be with those comparisons thanks to the modernity of the happy and buoyant jasmine heart; but fans of vintage 70's feminines will find the callback charming nonetheless. Wear time is pretty long, and sillage is potent thanks to the fact that this is a synthetic and therefore ultra-stable perfume mostly impervious to breakdown on skin. Best use for me would be spring time, but you can wear this any time of year. Synthetic Jungle is marketed unisex but leans feminine to my nose.
Obviously, Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle is not an affordable or accessible brand by design, but the fact that a green floral chypre like this can be ripped straight out of the 1970's and remade with relatively inexpensive synthetic materials and still smell so good, is proof of concept that brands like Versace or Kenneth Cole could do this too if they thought there was a market for it. I'm hoping the hype builds around this enough in the fragrance community (the kind of people who'd drop the insane money Malle asks) to inspire downmarket clones, which like with Creed Aventus (2010), will in turn lead to mainstreaming of the style. Considering this hasn't really happened to any Malle yet since the brand launched in 2000, I am probably just daydreaming. Like Portrait of a Lady (2010), I am torn by Synthetic Jungle, as it is a perfume I'd very much love to own but will likely never due to the extreme exorbitant pricing and lack of discounter presence (eBay is full of fakes). In many ways, it may just be more economical to track down the vintage fragrances it celebrates, but then you miss the point of this scent completely. While I'm still not a fan of the "curated masterpieces" pretense or manufactured exclusivity of the Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle brand, I can at least admit when they turn up with something that's pretty neat to behold. Thumbs up.
Anne Flipo looks like she had fun making this one too, revisiting greats like Fidji by Guy Laroche (1966) or Chanel Cristalle (1974), bringing a cool, green, slightly fruity, but clearly floral chypre into the future using nothing but synthetics. A black currant note and classic green styralyl acetate (a favorite of Jean Carles) mix with a basil and muguet note in the opening, before hyacinth and ylang-ylang add a slight musky banana-like feel that merges into a tropical gardenia-style essence popular in the era. This essence is then lifted by jasmine hedione and further greened by galbanum, synthetic forms of which have been around for decades themselves. In place of anything like oakmoss or labdanum, we see some clear woody and patchouli materials blend with clean musks, giving a bit of a musk mallow and pencil shavings wood vibe that reminds me a lot of both the aforementioned Cristalle and Jacomo Silences (1978). Synthetic Jungle is not quite the cold boss bitch perfume that I make it out to be with those comparisons thanks to the modernity of the happy and buoyant jasmine heart; but fans of vintage 70's feminines will find the callback charming nonetheless. Wear time is pretty long, and sillage is potent thanks to the fact that this is a synthetic and therefore ultra-stable perfume mostly impervious to breakdown on skin. Best use for me would be spring time, but you can wear this any time of year. Synthetic Jungle is marketed unisex but leans feminine to my nose.
Obviously, Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle is not an affordable or accessible brand by design, but the fact that a green floral chypre like this can be ripped straight out of the 1970's and remade with relatively inexpensive synthetic materials and still smell so good, is proof of concept that brands like Versace or Kenneth Cole could do this too if they thought there was a market for it. I'm hoping the hype builds around this enough in the fragrance community (the kind of people who'd drop the insane money Malle asks) to inspire downmarket clones, which like with Creed Aventus (2010), will in turn lead to mainstreaming of the style. Considering this hasn't really happened to any Malle yet since the brand launched in 2000, I am probably just daydreaming. Like Portrait of a Lady (2010), I am torn by Synthetic Jungle, as it is a perfume I'd very much love to own but will likely never due to the extreme exorbitant pricing and lack of discounter presence (eBay is full of fakes). In many ways, it may just be more economical to track down the vintage fragrances it celebrates, but then you miss the point of this scent completely. While I'm still not a fan of the "curated masterpieces" pretense or manufactured exclusivity of the Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle brand, I can at least admit when they turn up with something that's pretty neat to behold. Thumbs up.
I haven't smelt green as captivating as Synthetic Jungle since the days of Eau de Sud by Annick Goutal.
A tribute to everything green, like basil and lily of the valley.
The name is actually the opposite of the smell itself. It's a jungle indeed but really synthetic. Such a daring approach to a name. The nose, to the best of my recollection, created a basil scent for Joe Malone. Such a beautiful addition to the FM line.
There's an alluring muskiness to it in the base notes that rounds it off and makes it less sharp, as greens tend to be quite sharp if not groomed with a bit of creaminess.
A tribute to everything green, like basil and lily of the valley.
The name is actually the opposite of the smell itself. It's a jungle indeed but really synthetic. Such a daring approach to a name. The nose, to the best of my recollection, created a basil scent for Joe Malone. Such a beautiful addition to the FM line.
There's an alluring muskiness to it in the base notes that rounds it off and makes it less sharp, as greens tend to be quite sharp if not groomed with a bit of creaminess.
A bustling diorama with every who's who of flora whose gears whirr overmuch.
How odd to try something nominally perfect for me and find it especially lacking. Galbanum, lily-of-the-valley and any and all white florals are enduring favorite notes of mine, all here, and somehow made boring. To its credit, Synthetic Jungle is indeed all-encompassing: it has bright green facets, hot and humid floral elements (unripe bananas and plasticky jasminie) and oddly silvery-watery flashes (poor basil is bruised, tangy and unpalatable), almost leaning metallic. It is big enough and enduring enough to feel like exploring, evolving over the course of its weartime, but feels like a green synesthetic analogue of those top 40 end-of-year pop megamixes, appealing to broad with the inistency of a clarion.
Yes, Chanel No. 19 is waiting somewhere in the wings. The connection between that, Private Collection and Synthetic Jungle is a heady & hybrid fantasy, but one borne out most poignantly in the marketing, not in the resulting sensation of actually wearing this perfume. A rare miss for Frederic Malle.
How odd to try something nominally perfect for me and find it especially lacking. Galbanum, lily-of-the-valley and any and all white florals are enduring favorite notes of mine, all here, and somehow made boring. To its credit, Synthetic Jungle is indeed all-encompassing: it has bright green facets, hot and humid floral elements (unripe bananas and plasticky jasminie) and oddly silvery-watery flashes (poor basil is bruised, tangy and unpalatable), almost leaning metallic. It is big enough and enduring enough to feel like exploring, evolving over the course of its weartime, but feels like a green synesthetic analogue of those top 40 end-of-year pop megamixes, appealing to broad with the inistency of a clarion.
Yes, Chanel No. 19 is waiting somewhere in the wings. The connection between that, Private Collection and Synthetic Jungle is a heady & hybrid fantasy, but one borne out most poignantly in the marketing, not in the resulting sensation of actually wearing this perfume. A rare miss for Frederic Malle.
Synthetic Jungle opens with bitter green resinous galbanum with a supporting hyacinth infused lily-of-the-valley and banana-like ylang-ylang derived floral accord before gradually transitioning to its heart. As the composition enters its early heart, the perfume stays bitter green but smooths out as the lily-of-the-valley takes the fore in a big way, supported by remnants of the ylang-ylang and sanitized green jasmine. During the late dry-down the composition stays highly linear with the lily-of-the-valley finally ceding control to remnants of the green jasmine that co-star with thin, slightly musky patchouli through its lengthy finish. Projection is good to very good and longevity outstanding at over 20 hours on skin.
The name "Synthetic Jungle" doesn't exactly inspire one's champing at the bit to try the perfume based on name alone. The perfumer, Anne Flippo, is new to the Malle line and while quite prolific and in some cases successful sales-wise isn't much of a qualitative winner, at least not to the tastes of this writer. That said, name and perfumer aside, Frederic Malle tends to have a pretty good record of working with perfumers and having them produce their finest work, and in this case, Malle has successfully again directed a perfumer to qualitative success in Synthetic Jungle. No, this is no masterpiece like Portrait of a Lady, but lovers of green compositions - lily-of-the-valley primarily derived in particular, will find plenty to love here. Additionally, while the perfume obviously uses synthetics in its base to exhibit its crazy longevity metrics, it never comes off smelling synthetic at all despite this, and I would wager the name is less a descriptor for the ingredients used, more implying a "re-creation" of a jungle in the perfume. I am not sure if I personally smell a jungle when wearing "Synthetic Jungle," but it certainly smells plenty green and plenty good, enough to get me to buy a bottle. The bottom line is the $295 per 100ml bottle "very good" 3.5 stars out of 5 rated Synthetic Jungle is no masterpiece, but while highly linear and far from innovative, will appeal greatly and is recommended to lovers of all things green, particularly compositions like Malle's own Lys Mediterranee.
The name "Synthetic Jungle" doesn't exactly inspire one's champing at the bit to try the perfume based on name alone. The perfumer, Anne Flippo, is new to the Malle line and while quite prolific and in some cases successful sales-wise isn't much of a qualitative winner, at least not to the tastes of this writer. That said, name and perfumer aside, Frederic Malle tends to have a pretty good record of working with perfumers and having them produce their finest work, and in this case, Malle has successfully again directed a perfumer to qualitative success in Synthetic Jungle. No, this is no masterpiece like Portrait of a Lady, but lovers of green compositions - lily-of-the-valley primarily derived in particular, will find plenty to love here. Additionally, while the perfume obviously uses synthetics in its base to exhibit its crazy longevity metrics, it never comes off smelling synthetic at all despite this, and I would wager the name is less a descriptor for the ingredients used, more implying a "re-creation" of a jungle in the perfume. I am not sure if I personally smell a jungle when wearing "Synthetic Jungle," but it certainly smells plenty green and plenty good, enough to get me to buy a bottle. The bottom line is the $295 per 100ml bottle "very good" 3.5 stars out of 5 rated Synthetic Jungle is no masterpiece, but while highly linear and far from innovative, will appeal greatly and is recommended to lovers of all things green, particularly compositions like Malle's own Lys Mediterranee.
I was so lucky to test this beauty 4 times in Paris during this week. Still got the blotters.
It's delicious. Green, fresh and long lasting.
It's unique but if I had to compare it with something from the house - I'd say it's Carnal Flower-ish but without Tuberose and Coconut. Basil and Black Currant are working perfectly together.
Definitely unisex. Not that strong but it is long lasting.
Anne Flipo, welcome to Frederic Malle!
It's delicious. Green, fresh and long lasting.
It's unique but if I had to compare it with something from the house - I'd say it's Carnal Flower-ish but without Tuberose and Coconut. Basil and Black Currant are working perfectly together.
Definitely unisex. Not that strong but it is long lasting.
Anne Flipo, welcome to Frederic Malle!