Mary Greenwell Plum. The name is whispered reverently in perfume circles. Mary. Greenwell. Plum. I feel a lot of pressure when reviewing a scent like this. The whispers... the laughing and pointing if I screw it up. Perfumistas are a vicious, hateful group*.
*This is a very blatant lie.
The perfume community is one of the most
lovely groups I've ever had the privilege to be a part of!
The perfume community is one of the most
lovely groups I've ever had the privilege to be a part of!
The Mary Greenwell website claims Plum is "A story of femininity and joy."
It goes on...
A classic chypre with a memorable modern twist. Plum begins the story of femininity and joy, a fragrance of uncomplicated chic and sensual warmth. Top notes of English plum, blackcurrant, peach, bergamot and lemon blend with heart notes of gardenia, tuberose absolute, orange flower absolute, rose absolute and jasmine absolute with a base of precious woods, sandalwood, oakmoss, patchouli, amber and white musk complete the intoxicating scent that is Plum by Mary Greenwell.
To top it all off, I'm sure you saw those words that make the shriveled, evil little hearts of certain perfume fans race, beady eyes darting every which way:
A classic Chypre.
Oakmoss.
Big words, big fans, big expectations.
My thoughts
Disclaimer: I can count myself in that crew of oakmoss and chypre-lovers. And I'm talking about the heavy-on-the-oakmoss vintage chypres, not the modern kind with patchouli and a cast of supporting mossy characters. I like those, too, but to me "chypre" means the vintage kind.
Plum is not like those, but still a very good perfume.
It opens with strong fruit salad, heavy on the lemon and blackcurrant. I can't find any plum, but that's of no real issue to me. It's a voluptuous, unabashedly feminine in a very sweet and tart way. I kind of like that view of women: sweet but tart.
I begin to pick up the woods just as the florals make their entrance. There's something sweet there that supports them, like a cedar table under a very full vase of flowers. First you notice the orange blossom, then the higher-pitched gardenia. Jasmine and some well-behaved tuberose join in after awhile. And this stage is long-winded...
Luckily for me, the floral stage -long as it is- is also a little quieter than that fruity opening. I feel fairly... obvious, I guess, in the opening minutes of Plum. The heart of the perfume isn't exactly shy and retiring, but certainly more circumspect than the opening. On another happy note, the florals do not boss or bully; it's actually sweetly feminine and very pretty.
What I don't get, other than that breath of woods, is chypre. I can't pick up much oakmoss or even much patchouli. A soft amber muskiness ends the scent on my skin. It's a great ending, but not exactly capital-C Chypre stuff.
So, this modern chypre with the cult following --- what do I really think in the end? You know what? I like it. But I do not love it. At least, not enough to go through all of the hoops required to obtain a bottle. Apparently this one is hard to get out of England, and frankly even though I have a friend in London I just resent that kind of exclusivity and won't deal with it. Which tells you how much I didn't fall in love with Plum, I guess, or I'd toss my flimsy morals to the curb. I am a perfumista after all...
Are you a fan of Plum? How do you feel about modern chypres? The vintage ones?
