Reviews of Hiris by Hermès

Plangent drops of iris fall like cold rain
on crumbling wood and bitter amber.

A Chopin Nocturne is played
and mourners stand around, their heads bowed.

The temperatures have finally dipped to comfortable levels after unseasonably hot May days. The breeze comes through the window and the Hiris on my skin shifts through the air like a blue apparition.

It opens cool, yet not steely, more a salve of rosy, violet-tinged carrots and powdered rhizomes of all kinds. Then, there's a beautiful "key change," as it were, a minor key resolved to major. It smells not merely of orris root but what I perceive when one were to get intimate with one of those large, ghostly, translucent bearded irises, after the rain, damp, its pendant-like pedals saturated, leaves and stems. I did just this in a garden at Acton Arboretum here in MA this past weekend. What a mysterious scent that comes from certain iris flowers themselves if one is to lean in closer. Hiris seems to capture this in its heart.

The base is a phosphorescent cedar, glowing as if foxfire, bubbled woody ionones, traces of bitter almond, saponified dried roots and bark, still cool, still calm. It isn't any wonder that Olivia Giacobetti is behind this understated genius given her many contributions to L'Artisan Parfumeur and her skill in impactful translucency.

A much friendlier Feminine Iris to my Masculine skin Vis a Vis that most opulent Xerjoff.
This, from a boy who will top anything, with Truffled Foie Gras.
The charm of this scent is it's delicate, sculptured composition and gentle season of Coriander.
The Rosy Pink Petals wrap the cool, carroty Orris.
Cedar applied with care, to offer a mild Woodiness.
Sweetened with a dash of Vanilla Sugar countered with a whiff of Dry Clean Hay.
Ambrette has this finish ala nettoyer le linge.
Yummy!

She might have one dress, but that dress is always passing and clean and tidy. She is a charming french lady hosts afternoon tea partiers with society women. It reminds me of the sunlight you can see clash though the clouds on a rainy day, the kind of light that looks almost like a clairvoyance on the sky. Earthy, elegant, delicate, powdery, clean, versatile, classic yet modern.

At first spritz there is a burst of carnation mixed with the dreamy waxy iris and the touch of neroli. The carnation abates and then the rose becomes evident as well giving her some added vibrance. The persistence of vanilla and honey keep it from staying too soapy. It's ethereal and slightly wistful but also optimistic. Like a garden of irises after heavy rain. performance is great.

Iris, carrot and coriander are the unequivocal component ms in the opening triad. The iris is delicious in its intensity and quite typical in its character; this a clean iris The carrot is well done too, and the coriander with its slightly tart touches blends in very well. This quite a unique opening.

The drydown add bundles of dry hay, combined with a rose that is rather light, a bit mundane and more in the background on me. Hints of néroli add a bit of brightness.

The iris still is going strong, and does so well into the base. Touches of a dry almond-infused vanilla and of cedarwood are present, but they are very weak compared with the earlier stages. A musky undertone owed to the ambrette seed joins in at a later sees it out until the end.

I get moderate sillage, excellent projection and six hours of longevity on my skin.

In this autumnal scent it is the first half that truly convinces, be it by the good representation of the iris, or by the original approach that is taken. The second half is less titillating, but it is crafted well always. Overall 3.5/5.

Hermes Hiris is a rival in my list of olfactory delights to Lutens' Iris Silver Mist. A blast of purely beautiful, dry, suede-like orris greets the nose on first exposure. This deepens, but slowly, with the coriander and hay notes very subtly supporting the orris. The reserved use of the cedar and almond woods gives it a slight edge, but never permits it to become bitter or off-putting.

I await the honey and vanilla dry down, but for me it never arrives. No matter, I am happy with what I have.

Orris based scents, when properly done, are entirely unisex, in my opinion. Depending on body chemistry the genre can seem cold and aloof, or warm and earthy. Hiris seems equally at home with both men and women.

As a rival to Iris Silver Mist, Hiris comes out ahead due to its very affordable price in comparison with the Lutens, and its availability since the Lutens has up until recently only been available as an import from Europe.

To summarize one of the very best iris based scents available, expertly balanced and blended and a joy to own.

I got the purple bottle version at the Hermes store in Las Vegas, the store is gorgeous, lots of wood and gorgeous scarves all around. Hiris smelled at that moment like a small pot of pansy flowers, cold & wet, including the smell of the earth in the pot. Since then, I've noticed my perception of it always changes, it's never boring, sometimes it'll smell like a hot clothing iron, most of the time it'll smell of iris and cedar, sometimes I can smell a white floral in there too. Most of the time, it will seem to disappear on me even after 3-4 serious spritzes, but later people will say I smell very good or clean, I will have surprising people burying their nose in my chest, and my clothes will smell of it the next day. It's a very stealthy scent, so it's great for the office, or being around very sensitive people.
I love it, I will definitely buy again. I only wish there was a more intense version, or products to scent layer. I think a man could wear this just fine.

As a small child our home was a poor one. My parents frequently fought about money, paying bills and the cost of shoes. I washed my hair with soap, bottled shampoo being a luxury. I love the smell of soap in the morning, which is where Hiris slots in. In my repressed, somewhat Victorian childhood it would have been lascivious for a woman to reek of perfume early in the day, but April Violets would have been okay, Hiris would have been okay too. The lovely honey drifts in later, still quite angelic and a little milk maid rosiness rounds it out. Sometimes I wonder if a little Hiris from the Hermes library made it into Apres La Mousson, they are both accused of being vegetal and I like both fragrances. Am I animal, vegetable or mineral? I guess I'm a vegetable, an Orris root I think.

The Virgin in Prayer by Giovanni Battista Salvi da Sassoferrato 1650

This is a perfect interview fragrances. Hiris smells nice, clean, and sophisticated, but it's not pretty and it's not sexy, which makes it perfect if you want to smell good in a professional sort of way. This one doesn't turn heads, but if you are the sort of person who must always wear perfume, this is a good pick for those occasionas when you need to appear professional and sophisticated without smelling too sexy or girly.

Genre: Floral

There is a refreshing transparency about Hiris that distinguishes it from other iris scents I know. It is a dry iris with a crisp green accent and a slight bitter edge. It's more rooty and rougher in texture than Iris de Nuit, Iris Poudre, or Bois d'Argent, and much less sweet than Dior Homme. On the other hand, it's far less gritty and aggressive than Maitre Parfumeur et Gantier's Iris Bleu Gris of Serge Lutens's Iris Silver Mist.

The heart of Hiris is a lovely, soft blend of earthy-yet-clean iris, diaphanous floral notes, and cool cedar. Though Hiris is marketed as a women's scent, remnants of the opening's bitter greens and the snappy cedar note make it just as easy to wear for men. There is a point midway through the development where Hiris becomes noticeably "perfumey," as rose, neroli, and vanilla bloom on the skin. Then, a bit further on, Hiris relaxes into its honeyed cedar and vanilla drydown. Very nice, and a must-try for any fan of iris scents.

This is one of my all time favorites, the one perfume that sent me off on a never ending iris quest. But I always still come back to this one, like the comfort scent that it is.

My favorite time of year to wear Hiris is actually winter. It feels like the perfect match to a morning walk at first light, as the sun is making the frost covered plants and earth sparkle and glitter. The fragrance, at first, is cold and almost sterile, but yet it already hints at the earthiness and connection soon to come.

Just like you expect yourself to do on your walk, Hiris starts to warm up, and also warm up to you - from cold and sterile introduction to a shy sharing of her natural wonders. The warming earthy rooty smell becomes soft powder coated flowers, still fresh from their frost bath. Even warmer is the hint of honey that will sometimes greet you (and sometimes not I have found!). The softess hint of wood completes the nature walk, as the last frost melts.

Hiris is soft to me, and is nearly perfect. It can serve as an introduction to iris, or it could be the end of the iris journey. It won't over power, or powder, you, but will somehow make you pay attention to it's subtle shifts and changes, offering the steady rhythm and hum of iris, iris, iris...whispered.

Hiris by Hermes is a restrained, silent, liquid and sharp iris fragrance to be intended as a tribute to the  starring note of iris, the Queen of elegance and subtleness in parfumery, a fragrance with some herbal and sharp floral accents, with botanic and hesperidic supports (carrot, orange?), some rosey spoor, a barely angular and initially metallic trait and an arcane soapy-laundry feel. The sophistication is pure since an almost inexistent artificial sweetness unveils all the natural and silvan nobility of the royal iris.  Just an impersonal and unmild rose flanks the protagonist in its mineral transparence.  The iris is neither so pungent and laundry as in Infusion d'Iris nor finally powdery and aldehydic as in Iris Poudre Malle, neither deep, dark and leathery as in Cuir d'Iris Parfumerie General (wonderful scent) nor honeyed and nutty as in Dior Homme. This is an iris from the earth in the same vein of Le Labo Iris 39 although not so earthy-rooty and without the utterly algid support of the metallic violet. An arid, opaque and impersonal cedarwood supports the earthy-floral nobitity of the starring flower before the cristal starts to fade towards an honeyed, musky-boise, more compact and linear dry down of elegant sensuality, human  heat and womanly molecules. A great fragrance, a magistral work of balance.

Hiris is a introverted elegance a well-poised muse
never reveals herself within words nor action just
her scent of Iris, Hiris opens with it's homage the
Iris a flower a symbol of refinedness and modesty
a scent of cool orris earth adds to the sharp coldness
of the fragrance, the coriander subtle enough not to
cloy over the iris but noticeable in it's spicy drydown
diluted amber dries the top note, delicate and elusive
note of Rose opens the middle note softens the sharpness
of the Iris with it's velvet texture a demure beauty
Neroli turns the fragrance a bit citrusy and grounded.
The drydown consists of unsweeted honey makes an organic
and woodsy finish to this almost of a masterpiece of a
scent next dry cedar conjours a feeling of a forest
after the midnight rain fresh and finishes with almond
tree an nutty accord.

Hiris is a class of it's own not Loud gaudy kitschy
it doesn't take bright colorful sequins dolly heads
fake rhinestones on bottle it's a simple dark blue
bottle less is more.

This scent is just OK with me, which is surprising because I loved the new SL Bois de Soie, and I really loved James Heeley's Iris de Nuit. This more closely resembles Iris de Nuit, but is sweeter and heavier, so much so that it tips into the 'not so great' category with me.

There is a facet to this scent that sinks like a rock on my chemistry - it feels off and discordant. I think I would like it more if Cedar was swapped out for Oak Moss, and the honey note exchanged for something dryer . I can usually spot Giacobetti's touch, but not here. I feel like the business team asked her to go against her good sense and add something 'commercial' to this.

Hiris just doens't stand out in the crowded genre.

I have a strange format of this..a liquid powder that I recently rediscovered as it had been banished to the back of a closet. I have to say I recognize what everyone else is talking about in this unusual format. It's light, sheer, powdery, tres tres elegant iris with some carroty, nutty, metallic hints. I admit it's beautiful. Not necessarily sexy..more a platonic beauty..but damn it's subtle. It's an interesting journey.

Off-Scenter (whatever happened to Vibert??) has it right: Hiris is transparent and refreshing, feminine but restrained, floral but crisp, slightly bitter, slightly green, clean, sober and very elegant. To my nose it does not smell powdery or "perfumey" at all, but rather natural in a sophisticated way.On the other hand, I cannot stand the much-prised Iris Bleu Gris, which I find artificial, cloying, powdery and old-fashoned (in a bad sense).One of my all-times favourite floral fragrances.

This smell screams prim and classy. I feel like I would smell this on a upper-middle class housewife clad in a $500 outfit meeting her girlfriends for lunch at a japanese restaurant. It's definately a WASPy scent, and is incredibly beautiful and clean.

I love the cold and distant opening: metallic carrots. Whodathunk? After that, it gets way powdery/bready, floral and a lot sweeter - though never too much so, I hasten to add. One of my favourite irises and a summer staple. Too bad it has very poor lasting power.

Hermes Hiris is, to me, the 'standard bearer' of iris fragrances. There's nothing overly complex going on - Hiris is a straightforward and simple presentation of an iris soliflore. The presented iris note is powdery, earthy and slightly 'green'. I put Hiris in the same class of iris fragrances as TDC Bois d'Iris and L'Artisan Bois Farine. Hiris isn't a 'bready' as those two, and it's nowhere near as fierce and cold as Lutens' Iris Silver Mist.Hiris is a skin scent, and both the sillage and longevity are mild, even within the genre of iris fragrances. Even though it doesn't come off the shelf often, Hiris is my one and only iris soliflore. It goes without saying that Hiris will not appeal to you if you don't like iris. For everyone else I suggest you forgo sampling and just find a discount bottle!

.. one of the most wonderful floral/powdery scents ever made!

it's feminine, fragile,and sensational iristouching me in low profilewow

I have just affirmed my love for one particular floral note- and that is iris. The masculine floral, or specifically iris, that is so beautifully done in Dior Homme is exemplified here by Hermes. It processes surely to me what is one of the most captivating opening notes by Hermes. Simply spellbinding. Yes, I wish the opening can linger a little though. And why is marketed as a feminine scent is beyond me. More men should try this. The return of the floral scent for men starts from here.

Metallic, yes. Vegetal, yes. Chemical, yes. Purchase, no.