On paper, Carthuisa’s latest trio, paying homage to three plants that form a vital part of the Mediterranean landscape, seemed a winner. But you don’t play the game on paper; you play it on skin. And on skin Mirto, Basilico, and Ginestra didn’t come to play. Antoine Lie and Luca Maffei combined to bring the scents to life, but unfortunately, for the most part, they end up pallid and lacklustre. Let’s discuss this so-called “Intenso Collection” from worst to first.
Basilico
Top – Bergamot, tangerine, pink pepper. Heart – Basil, tea leaves, jasmine. Base – Cashmeran, patchouli, vetiver.
I’m almost shocked that the basil comes in last. Okay, not quite as shocked as a cheating couple on a Coldplay kiss cam. But still a little shook. I thought I was going to like Basilico the most, but there’s something here that rubs me the wrong way. Okay, not quite rubbing the wrong way as a couple on a Coldplay…….. that’s enough of that.
The opening metallic blast had me reeling a little. Maybe a hint of an old nemesis, ambery woods? In between the sharpness, there’s a distant feeling of basil, patchouli, and jasmine. It’s hard to believe Lie and Maffei did this, and it wasn’t Pierre Montale.
Mirto
Top – Juniper berries, davana, ginger. Heart – Myrtle, rose, osmanthus. Base – Musk, cedarwood, patchouli.
Mirto had potential. But then again, so did I, as I professed to my year 10 career counsellor my desire to become an astronaut. I didn’t think it was very nice of her to chuckle at me and utter the words, knowing her, slightly tongue in cheek, “You’re well on your way to becoming a space cadet, Mr Paterson”. Look at me now, Mrs. Nightingale, pulling apart fragrances with the greatest of ease! My academic results didn’t see me orbiting the earth, and unfortunately, Mirto doesn’t either.
There’s a lot of sweet and jammy rose in the opening of Mirto. However, it goes away quickly, leaving behind a faint herbal trail of myrtle. There’s a boozy/dried fruit note that I guess comes from the davana. Eventually, the threesome of tangy berries, zingy herbal notes, and the cooling touch of juniper sees Mirto take on a liqueur-like quality. It’s so faint, though, and quite fruity, then comes the patchouli base. And even I know when you add fruit to patchouli it = fruitchouli.
Ginestra
Top – Neroli, bergamot, lemon leaves. Heart – Broom absolute, jasmine absolute, tuberose. Base – Vanilla, sandalwood, musk.
At least Ginestra does a competent job. Despite the flacon colour being yellow, I’m mainly getting jasmine right out of the bottle from it, though. It’s a jasmine with a slightly animalic edge. Yes, there’s a hint of yellow from bergamot and then a honeyed amber from broom as it develops. The broom might have been more forceful. As it is, it gives Ginestra a hint of dusty leatheriness.
It veers closer to sun tan lotion territory when the creaminess of sandalwood and vanilla comes through in the base. For a scent designed to mimic the sunset on the horizon, Ginestra does a nice job. I was never destined to become a stargazer, though. In any event, they don’t seem to be the most trustworthy people (see my Basilico review). Ginestra smells pleasant enough, but doesn’t justify the price.
Summary
I’ll be back to discussing some better fragrances soon, but I feel duty-bound to even out the ledger and discuss the mediocre with the good. I tested these fragrances in store over a couple of weekends, so perhaps with time and in a different environment, they may have behaved differently. However, I wouldn’t bet on it. Indeed, I thought this trio might be along similar lines to the Santa Maria Novella garden series. But, even though that line isn’t the pinnacle of Santa Maria Novella’s creative works, it still fares far better on skin than Carthusia. Lie and Maffei phone it in a touch here. Indeed, what could have been for Carthusia and this cosmic critic?
Note: The bottle image courtesy of Carthusia. All other photos are my own.