Verveine d'Eugène by Heeley (2005)
The Verveine note tends to read as antiquated, with its sharp and scattered lines of green awkwardly existing between floral and citrus, perhaps too shrill for its own good. But this in fact is verveine’s virtue, as a single ingredient starts a dream of concentrated orbs of citrus fruits, in addition to agrestic and unctuous tonics made up of herbs and grasses. It is a dream in colour, texture, and sensation.
Verveine is the hesperidic note most conducive to bucolic oneirism, thanks to the strength of its green character that seems to trail into new territories altogether. In this chaos of organoleptic impressions, it is possible to seemingly stop the scent in the midst of its movement, so as to understand just what is happening in this dream. This is exactly what Heeley has done, and to me, its closest stylistic antecedent is the aptly named Eau de Campagne by Jean-Claude Ellena (Sisley, 1976), which similarly offers an exuberance with incredible restraint.
Heeley’s Verveine d'Eugène is a daydream of meadows, moving with a chic and sophisticated character. Such is the phantasmal nature of the dream - it holds together qualities that do not tend to coexist. This is not surrealism, because it avoids abstraction. It is high definition, unaffected by murkiness, managing to rouse amongst its serene and dignified feeling. It is polite, even well-mannered, but then it undoes this with the sheer intensity of its brightness. Heeley sustains this outstanding tension: a technical feat that respects the inherent character, or chaos, of the central lemon verbena note.
This is the source of Verveine d'Eugène’s interest, as Heeley straightens these lines, allowing them a sort of bursting melodic progression played out in a major key. Its punctuations are indeed accidental notes, and Heeley allows these accidentals to ring in olfactory space before they come to dominate and disrupt. It is restraint amongst exuberance.
It calls to mind the pith and juice of lemon, grapefruit, pomelo - the sharper pitched citrus fruits, touched with an enchanting and herbal green and faint metallic impressions. There is a slight humidity here, feigning warmth, the fortifying sweetness of tart rhubarb essential, punctuated with the inky purple-into-black mood of blackcurrant, adding shade amongst the leaves. I also find jasmine, functionally imparting a waxy veneer fragrance that coats the fragrance and wearer alike. Underneath this, there emerges a sensual and light peppery spiciness, a memory of purity and cleanliness radiating off the skin.
Verveine d'Eugène is as bright as a star and clear to the utmost degree. It calls to mind the height of summer and the beauty of a well-kempt and manicured garden. It is interested in an immediate and direct sort of beauty: a sensation always concomitant with fresh hesperidic fragrances. It is simple yet exceeding. I do not interrogate nor enter-into this perfume: it accompanies me, a weightless yet colourful wrapping.
