Листья томата и черной смородины - Tomato and Black Currant Leaves
Fragrance notes
Character
You spray Brocard’s Tomato and Black Currant Leaves and the garden comes at you in a single, unapologetic slap: mint cuts first, cold and medicinal, then a bristly tomato leaf that smells exactly like pinching a stem between your fingers. The black currant bud adds a jammy, almost metallic tartness, while thyme nudges things toward an herbaceous corner. Orange and jasmine appear briefly, sweetening the edges without softening the core, and a faint musk dusts the whole affair like soil on a root. The overall character is a summer morning ripped straight from the vine, the kind of green that feels more like a memory of gardening than a perfume.
It is natural in spirit but leans slightly synthetic in execution, especially the musk, which flattens the finish. The numbers for longevity and sillage are painfully honest: this fragrance evaporates faster than dew on a hot sidewalk. Under two hours of life and barely a whisper of projection. You will need to reapply, often. That feels less like a flaw and more like a design choice for someone who wants a quick, satisfying breath of green before moving on.
Who wears this? Anyone who craves a photorealistic tomato leaf without the pretense of a full floral bouquet. Skip it if you require performance, projection, or something to carry you through dinner. It belongs purely to high summer, to the beach, to the morning commute when you need a two-minute vacation. Use it as a spritz of chlorophyll and call it done.
Smells similar
Built from the same materials — ranked by how unusual the shared notes are, not by how many.
