Persolaise Review: Dryad from Papillon (Liz Moores; 2017)

It’s so wonderful to behold a perfumer maturing right under your nose. With her debut trio, Papillon’s Liz Moores proved that hers is a considerable talent, even though at least two of her compositions justifiably attracted the view that independent perfumery’s rough-edged statements can be overly reactionary. But then there was Angélique, Moores’ unassuming, subtle homage to 70s styles: a quiet harbinger of great things to come. And sure enough, we now have Dryad, an aptly-named, pastoral dreamscape lifted by plush, velvety mosses and mimosa-narcissus florals. Yes, it projects a retro sensibility – almost impossible to avoid when you use galbanum-style greens – but it does so without cliches or nostalgia. This is a fully-fledged scent in its own right, confident in its own identity to the extent that it doesn’t feel the need to set itself against mainstream peers. In other words, I’d say it is Moores’ most complete and most rounded composition to date, a timeless vision of young bodies – skins gleaming with a thin sheen of perspiration – lying on dry grass, looking straight up at the sky, whispering tales of summer longings. A sylvan delight.