Profumum Tagete - To Take a Picture

Here in the high desert, winter can be very difficult.  We'll transition from frigidly cold days when the streets are almost impassible and you need to have a fire burning in the fireplace in addition to blasting the heat indoors, to having days that are relatively temperate which give you a hint of the spring to come.  The air is dry and cold, but most of the time when you look up, the sky is blue and the sun in shining, even when you can't feel you feet in your boots.  At this time of year, I yearn for warmth and the smell of grass and flowers.

Yesterday I reached for my sample of Tagete from Profumum out curiosity.  I had specifically ordered this sample from Luckyscent because I was intrigued.  Who would make a perfume named Tagete?  I've never smelled a marigold that was particularly interesting to me, and calendula can have a piercing thin scent that has never appealed.  Yet during this miserable series of cold and snow, a scent based on a summer bloom gave me something to consider.

Profumum scents tend to be very strong on me, so I used one drop on the scent and it immediately revved into high gear.  Tagete starts with very, very sweet jasmine, and a vaguely citrus-tinged marigold.  Initially this stage has a creamy element, which disappears in a snap.  The impression is of pale yellow light.  Very feminine in character, the florals become warmer,  and gain a honeyed aspect which almost gives it a fuzzy edge.  When the sweetness starts to veer into potentially overwhelming territory, a touch of relief comes in the form of that creamy note again, just outside of your periphery, similar to how on a warm day with a clear sky, you can start to feel the potential for a late day storm.  This is a  drowsy Summer scent, wearing an airy dress and walking barefoot,  closing your eyes and listening to bees buzzing nearby.   IT's a tactile scent and gives the mental image of crushing a yellow dandelion…you are left with crushed gold and the vaguest memory of milky sap and stems.  Oddly, as the scent progresses, I find it also reminiscent of real honeysuckle, on the vine.  It's slightly wild and untamed, and can take over all the other nearby plants if not kept in check.    

A few hours in, the roundess of the scent takes a backseat.....still warm and yellow and sweet, it takes on the additional character of a light herbal tea underscoring the wild nature of the garden.....the jasmine becomes less evident and scent starts to take on the image of a gold and orange marigold.  The tentrils of a green note start threading through the florals, but it is not an obvious green.  It is a mere further tempering of the sweetness with a little dusting of seedlings growing at the base of your plants.  I can't really identify vetiver in here, and if it's the moss I'm sensing, it's adding an appealing, vaguely dewy scentsation that encourages balance in the scent.  I am now getting a sense of the plant as a whole rather than a picture of the single bloom.  It also hits a very brief period of an almost acrid edge, but thankfully this stage only lasts a few minutes and we settle back into the white and gold feel of the composition.

As the fragrance settles to it final stages, the camera is now pulled back to include the garden. I finally sense the balance of moss and floral, leaving me with the sense of a lovely gold and green silk on my skin.

Frankly, I have never smelled anything like this fragrance.  To me, that’s a good thing....I didn't find it challenging but interesting.   To some, it may be too focused and somewhat distracting...it is most definitely for spring and summer, or days in which you need a dose of sunshine.  It's quite clean-smelling yet not soapy.  Due to the strength of this perfume I could never imagine spraying it on, and a bottle would last forever.   It almost has the character and strength of an oil....a little goes a very long way.  I found myself using this scent again today and I must say, I really enjoy it.  It's going to make this winter a little more tolerable.