Mandrake fragrance notes
- crisp apple, pomegranate, birch leaf, birch root, bergamot, mandrake flower accord, rhubarb, cardamom, sueded leather, deadly addiction accord, patchouli, madagascar vanilla, sandalwood, tonka
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Latest Reviews of Mandrake

Mandrake is a fresh and fruity fragrance on the whole, a mix of bergamot, apple, and pomegranate (though I mainly detect the first two) in concert with the mandrake root itself, a healthy helping of rhubarb, (with which I'm not really acquainted) as well as some woody and sweet players: sandalwood, patchouli, cardamom, birch tonka, vanilla.
It reminds me a little bit of Imaginary Authors Sundrunk with the rhubarb/fruit duo, a fun comparison as both fragrances are pleasant summertime options.
Its performance is quite good, given that I (and a handful of others, it seems) label it a warm-weather fragrance, and good performance seems to be pretty consistent across the label. Pricing-wise, the sole 50ml bottle size is priced at $145, on the lower end of line's pricing, and is sold at Perfumology, among other boutiques in the US and abroad.
It might not be my very favorite but it's a strong entry in the line, quite agreeable, not overly floral, something befitting almost anyone, a little less divisive than, say, Bloodflower or Poppy Soma.
7 out of 10

The first impression is that of the orangest-orange imaginable, to the point of its coming across as artificial orange-flavouring, like Tang. Although there are whiffs of a carroty/sweet-potato orange tuber-esque (have I mentioned the ORANGE?) something, likely due to the rhubarb accord, Mandrake struggles to go anywhere beyond the sunny citrus, traveling the same difficult path that Tauer's Rose Incense takes on my skin.
I'm guessing that this sweet, sweet citrus is a combination of the apple, pomegranate and bergamot, and although I've urged Mandrake to go beyond its limits, alas, no. While not necessarily a scrubber, I simply don't like orange-scented anything, but someone else may.
There are others in this series that I like better, although Hemlock is the only love, and Wolfsbane would be up there if it weren't for its castoreum accord; the others, for the most part, are cloyingly sweet, like Mandrake, with a lot of tuberose. Don't think I haven't tried to convince myself to purchase more bottles, pay those wallet-busting customs duties & VAT charges, and I truly wish I could find more wearability in Quartana's Poison Flowers series. The premise, packaging, execution, are all wonderfully creative, marrying a sort of Gothic history with contemporary, and even tech-y elements; the boxes are hearty, tabbed, pull-out numbers, drenched in foiled, strong, psychedelic, swirling colours that match the various scents' labels, some of the juices are brightly coloured, and, also included, are separate contemporary art prints of Japanese calligraphy by a recognised artist. All great, but not if I can't at least occasionally enjoy the product.
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As for the fragrance, it smells like rhubarb to me. There is a rootsy vibe as well. It reminds me a bit of Idyllwild from Ineke which I sampled a few weeks ago, but without the green notes. Perhaps it's the "deadly addiction" note that's putting me off, but I just don't care for this one. longevity and sillage are extremely heavy as I mentioned, so apply with caution.