Hera
Papillon Artisan Perfumes (2022)

I absolutely love Hera's opening notes: the combination of a stunning orris and greenish jasmine makes for a scintillating and complex beauty. Here, I am reminded of the gorgeous and unusual combination of notes that make up vintage Vol de Nuit. Very, very unfortunately, however, this opening quickly disappears and is replaced by an almost dank and overbearing underpinning that goes on forever and makes up the majority of the scent. It's almost as if Moores combined Dryad with Anubis and stirred it all together with some orris concrete. If only those first notes had hung around longer, I would have snapped this up in a heartbeat. As it is, my sample will suffice.

As someone with incredibly finicky tastes in florals, I think this could be "my" floral, the first that's truly had me head-over-heels swooning, the way I feel for my favourite orientals (my favourite fragrance genre).
The great big slug of narcissus certainly helps. I seem to recall Luca Turin referring to the flower as a perfume in it's own right, and here it takes centre stage in all its rich green splendour.
With regards to the other notes however, I highly agree with the review calling this a shape shifter- sometimes the powderiness and rooty iris feel dominant, but other times it's more about the lush jasmine and ylang. I don't find it similar to Dryad at all, perhaps because I'm especially sensitive to the bitterness of galbanum, which is thankfully absent here. Dryad feels murky and austere reserved to me while this is fizzy and bright.
Shame about the price, but I'm increasingly thinking I may have to just not buy any more perfumes until I can afford to splurge on this.

A warning to people trying this for the first time: it’s a shape shifter… what you get your first time will not be what you get the second or third. Third time won’t be the same as fourth etc.

Jasmine and Iris. That’s my first review. Though there’s a lot more than that going on. I get a vintage Gres Cabochard hidden in the heart, with a wisp of cigarette smoke like the old greats used to have.

People smell dryad in the base but I get something warmer with more resins.

This is lovely.

Ylang-ylang iris. Liz Moores has a clear artistic vision that runs through every one of her perfumes. The Papillon line all convey a powerful, visceral gestault. Anubis is East Asian temples, Salome - tantric temples, Dryad - the power of the ancient forest, Tobacco Rose - roses still on the plant with roots deep in dirt, Angelique - dew dancing in the dawn, Bengale Rouge - the primal comfort of the feline, and Spell 125 - a Druid ritual in the forest.

Hera is uncompromising feminine power. Self -sustained. Full within herself. It makes sense to not only name this perfume after an otherworldly being, but also a matriarch. If we take this wedding gift as a message to a beloved daughter, it is that she go into this union empowered in her role as wife and potentially mother. Not as some soft, compliant appendage.

An anti-wedding-perfume wedding perfume, more blurry than radiant, more contemplative than outgoing, more difficult than sunny. Starts off as a green floral slightly reminiscent of No. 19, only less crystalline, with a dominant iris note that eventually fades as the perfume takes on an increasingly resinous, oily character (the ambrette?). Bits of florals occasionally peek out, but just when you think it's for sure going to turn lush and luminous a la its notes list, it becomes heavy, slightly muddy. This is my main problem with most of Papillon perfumes. I need them to be more dialed in.