Iris is an ingredient that almost always sways me, and yet the more iris fragrances I smell, the harder it becomes to be genuinely surprised. Iris is among the most complex materials in perfumery, whether natural or reconstructed. It originates from the rhizome of Iris pallida, and its scent moves effortlessly between contrasts: violet petals and frozen roots; green buds and powdery floral softness. It is elegant and ethereal, yet anchored by a strong, unmistakable core. That is precisely why Iris Hermit by Lapot Studio felt like such a revelation when I discovered it in Shanghai. It gave me my iris ideal type when I least expected it.
What struck me immediately was the texture of the iris. Soft, but not vague. Delicate, yet not fragile. There is a beautiful opalescence about it, like the pale interior of an oyster shell, smooth, luminous, and quietly sensual. The iris is gently cushioned by light peachy nuances that add a hint of sweetness, while green accents shimmer through the composition. Notably, there is no overt woodiness anchoring the scent. Instead, the structure feels suspended, airy, and finely balanced.
Iris Hermit stayed with me as a persistent presence that kept returning to my thoughts. That was a feat, because the day I smelled it, I also tried several dozen of other perfumes and raw materials.
I learned that the fragrance was created by Givaudan perfumer Jasmine Liu, who is the only fine fragrance perfumer at the company’s Shanghai office. Since then, I have had the chance to explore more of her work, and what consistently impresses me is her deep understanding of the classics. This is clearly a perfumer who has studied great historical fragrances closely, not to replicate them, but to internalize their logic and reinterpret them with clarity and restraint.
Iris Hermit openly acknowledges Iris Gris by Jacques Fath as a point of reference, yet it never feels like a remake. Instead, it feels like a conversation across time. The composition rises softly, but it retains the confident spine that defines the best iris fragrances, those that balance coolness, poise, and presence. In spirit rather than in scent, it brings to mind Chanel No. 19, Serge Lutens Iris Silver Mist, and Frédéric Malle Iris Poudre, fragrances that understand iris as both austere and intimate.
On me, Iris Hermit wears beautifully. There is no blurred, over-smoothed effect and no cosmetic haze. Instead, the fragrance remains crisp, tactile, and close to the skin. The sillage is discreet rather than dramatic, but it lingers and creates what I can only describe as a quiet aura, a personal soundtrack that moves with you rather than ahead of you.
That balance, elegance without aloofness and softness without loss of structure, is what makes Iris Hermit a five-star perfume in my book.
