Chypre Mousse (new) 
Oriza L. Legrand (2013)

The underlying sweetness and base in this scent reminds me of Fiele's Vetiveria. They both have a very similar earthy-woody aromatic base. The difference lies in the top notes. Chypre Mousse (CM) has a green and slightly minty opening, whereas Vetiveria jumps right into the mid and base with its tonka-vetiver laced with some hay and florals. The moment I sprayed this, it reminded me of something but it took some time to figure out. I'm making this comparison because I thought this fragrance would be unlike anything else I've smelled before, but there is something out there that is very similar. If you want something boozier and a bit more woody, definitely check out Vetiveria by Fiele.

I get how earthiness is a major player here, but I get more of a mild sweetness that detracts or obstructs the soil note. The sweetness is gentle and addictive. It's likely the resins and labdanum that give it that sweetness. Everything is blended super well and refined.

The longevity is good and the projection is moderate. It's balanced so it doesn't lean too heavily into one note. The sweetness can become slightly floral at times. What I don't get is petrichor so I'm not really reminded of a forest. There are definitely "green" elements, but there isn't enough hay or violet leaves to give it a wet grassy and soil vibe. Which is a disappointment but this is still a great scent and I'm inclined to give it a perfect score.

Green tea ice cream in an old fur coat. Loamy heather, chestnut creme, yellow pistachio paste sculpted in beeswax and slow-melted in winter sun. A bouquet of dried herbs and jasmine. Pollen blanketing an oak forest floor. Mushroom hunting in a vintage nightgown. The Sublime.

Contrary to the popular belief amongst the fragrance community that no ferns truly give off a fragrance and its merely a fantasy note, there are species that actually do, such as the Eastern Hayscented Fern (Dennstaedtia punctilobula) and the Fragrant Woodfern (Dryopteris fragrans). The woods are my church and I know this truth intimately, walking through ferns along the trails and taking in their ivy-green, coumarinic scent along with the damp earth and the forest canopy. The fern note here captures this incredibly so.

Chypre Mousse may be inaccessible to many out there who like more of a Disney forest with no underbelly, no decay, just all vibrant colors and clean lines delineating sky from tree and tree to plant and plant to ground. The truth is, in the forest, it is inherently, unclean, untidy, a network of mycelium communicating with each other and the trees, an organized chaos to the human mind. This fragrance pays homage to that and few fragrances captivate me like Chypre Mousse.

I love the cornucopia of herbs in the opening; the sweet, pungent fennel contrasting with the fresh sensation of mint, the aromatic clary sage and musky green angelica. In the heart, as we scale the perimeter of the meadows adjacent to the woods, the fields of mature clovers and various wildflowers entering dormancy (the mastic and galbanum seem to provide a valuable contribution to this effect), and we really begin to experience the loam and the humus that anchors all the flora, entering deeper into the forest, deeper into the oceans of scented ferns.

It's worth noting that what is overarching throughout are the oakmoss and the mushrooms (well-rendered here). However, they take center stage after a couple of hours, ever earthy and agrestic. I then discern mildly sweet, meaty chestnut, pine resins, grounding labdanum and vetiver, what bliss, what a dream, lingering into the evening. A moss trace still remains the following morning. Chypre Mousse is a rare feat of complexity and longevity. A resurrected century plus old formula that is truly transcendent in my humble opinion.

I am in love. I feel at home with this one.

10/10

Such a mysterious and exquisite fragrance. This house goes back to the 1700s, if I'm not mistaken, and although this fragrance has been updated and brought back to the public recently, it still has a very oldschool, organic vibe. I'll do my best to describe this very green chypre:

You have trudged through a bog and you have trampled mushrooms and mosses and your boots are muddy. When you come out of the shallow water, you find a patch of mint and fennel and sage and clover and you start wiping your boots off into that. You realize you are in someone's herb garden, also muddy from the hard rain. Suddenly the sun comes out and starts baking everything under its warmth. You close your eyes and inhale: Chypre Mousse.

This is about as darkly green as it gets. Most pronounced to me are the notes of anise/fennel (i.e. licorice) and mushroom. At first I wince because this is a bizarre combination, not totally pleasant? But as the mint and herbs and sage and other greens come into play, it rounds the fragrance out into something tolerable. As the scent begins to dry down, it becomes something absolutely mysterious and intoxicating. As it settles further, it is actually incredibly pleasant.

Chypre Mousse is a magical swamp. Dark and forboding and wet. But there's a unicorn in here somewhere, you just know it.

Must be experienced.

The name made it sound like it was going to be a Roja Dove confection, but surprise! It is all forest floor, vine, earth, leaf, humus and mineral; the bitter edge of herbs. There's many styles of green-leaning chypres. Chypre Mousse heads in the direction of a Hamlet contemplation - time, death, decay, compost, renewal. And it spends part of its time in a crypt.
So there's a Djedi somber mineralic tinge to it, but lacks Djedi's Guerlainade note, and is more plant-leaning. The Guerlainade note is what gives yearning and hope to Djedi. Those emotions are lacking here - it is more an experience of all those elements playing out in the natural world. The violet leaf works its subtle magic of stillness within change - here the change of natural elements in the cycle of life.
There are many classic Chypre elements here - oakmoss (a bit), clary sage, labdanum, angelica, galbanum, violet leaf, and whatever notes make up the leather. It forgoes citrus and also the florals that were at the heart of most classic chypres - rose, jasmine, lily of the valley, tuberose, etc - embedded jewels gleaming darkly in the heart. The violet leaf seems to fill that position here, but Chypre Mousse comes across as more of an exploration of the rest of the stuff.
Chypre Mousse gets lighter and less somber as it ages. Air starts coming into the humusy notes, and it sort of lifts out of the earth, becoming more tree, resin and wood. A bitter edge remains. I find it a little difficult to dwell in the early part of this fragrance too long while I'm indoors. I have the same difficulty with ‘Sonnet XVII' by Olympic Orchids - I'm compelled by the process of dwelling in the roots and plants, the primal dirt of Sonnet XVII, yet there's something in me that fears it. Very instructional, but a little unnerving.
That being said, I actually don't consider Chypre Mousse an indoor fragrance. It feels at home when you wear it outside, and has a resonance with the air and greenery. It becomes a handsome herbal wood chypre and develops a complexity and character.
I give Chypre Mousse a neutral for indoor use, and a thumbs up for outdoor use. But because it's capable of rising to the occasion I give it an overall thumbs up.