Tuberose

The eponymous XerJoff opens with honey and bergamot — a confident, slightly medicinal sweetness over citrus that signals oriental territory immediately.

Lyric Woman opens with the controlled heat of ginger, cinnamon, and cardamom over bergamot — spice as atmosphere rather than aggression, a slow warm-up to what follows.

Poême is one of Lancôme's most ambitious compositions — a 1995 grand floral oriental built with the scale and intention of a concert rather than a background piece.

The opening is immediate and strange: tobacco leaf soaked in tuberose's creamy sweetness, both fighting for control.

Decas opens with tuberose rendered in an unexpected register—neither creamy nor indolic, but slightly dry and dusted with tobacco leaf.

Tuberose unleashed, stripped of prettiness and pushed to an almost feral intensity.

An esprit de parfum concentration means this starts heavy.

Rolling in Love is built around the paradox of transparency: notes so close to skin that wearing it feels less like adding a fragrance than revealing one already there.

Alberto Morillas designs Moonlight in Heaven for the warmth of a tropical night.

La Femme Prada centers on tuberose in its most disciplined form — not the heady, indolic bloom of classic soliflores, but a tuberose sanded into geometric precision.

Aromatics Elixir opened in 1971 and has been misread ever since — filed under medicinal by those who encountered it wrong, and filed under masterpiece by those who stayed.

Ambre Gris opens with bergamot sharpened by pink pepper and cinnamon — warm spice wrapped in citrus, like mulled wine held near an open window.

The Narciso Rodriguez musk accord is the point of this fragrance — dense, white-fabric intimate, simultaneously close to skin and quietly commanding.

**Twilly d'Hermès** opens with a bright ginger snap—sharp, almost candied, tempered by bergamot that keeps it from veering into dessert territory.

Crystal Noir opens with a powdery violet that feels both vintage and deliberate, a soft dusting that immediately sets a moodier tone than its Eau de Parfum counterpart.

Hugo Deep Red opens with blood orange and pear in close proximity — the blood orange brings a faint bitterness and a flushed warmth to the pear's sweetness, keeping the opening from tipping into pure fruit candy.

Rush is one of those fragrances that divided the 90s into before and after.

Cerruti 1881 pour Femme is an exercise in floral layering at a scale that was common in 1995 and is rare now.

The opening is unapologetically sweet and spiced, with plum and cinnamon colliding against powdery iris and violet.

My Way opens with a bright surge of orange blossom and bergamot that feels nearly effervescent, then settles into a soft tuberose heart that never shouts.

A green apple accord dominates from the first spray—bright, tart, and almost tangible, like biting into crisp Granny Smith skin.

A warm, amber-centric oriental from Zimaya, a Dubai-based house that works firmly in the Gulf niche tradition.

The opening announces itself with dark plum and anise, a pairing that feels both bruised and medicinal, like crushed fruit macerated in herbal liqueur.

Blonde Amber opens with a bracing warmth—ginger and pink pepper sharpened by citrus, rum lending sweetness without its usual boozy weight.

Rochas Mystère opens with a sharp galbanum-and-bergamot strike that feels almost metallic in its brightness, a green jolt that clears the air before the florals arrive.

Magie Noire opens with a sharp, green collision—galbanum cuts through the sweetness of raspberry and rose like a blade through velvet.

Magie Noire opens with a shock of green bitterness—galbanum slicing through rose and raspberry—before settling into something darker and stranger than its name suggests.

Una-Senses opens with a narcotic floral weight—tuberose and jasmine tangle together in a way that feels thick and almost syrupy, coating the skin before you've had time to orient yourself.

A thunderous opulence from one of the Gulf's most revered houses, Safari Extreme throws open a rose garden in full bloom: Bulgarian rose and jasmine at the core, ringed by tuberose, ylang-ylang, and violet, all lifted on saffron and raspberry-tinged bergamot before landing on a cathedral of dark oud, creamy sandalwood, leather, and clove.

**Bvlgari Man Black Orient** opens with a jolt of dark rum splashed over freshly cracked cardamom, an intentionally boozy introduction that smells more like a gentleman's smoking jacket than a standard oriental fragrance.

Khamrah opens warm and resinous from the first spray, cinnamon and nutmeg mingling with bergamot's sharp citrus edge.

Neroli and rose open together — the neroli bright and citrus-floral, the rose warm and present.

Neroli, pink pepper, and black currant open Woman Intense with more edge than the name might suggest — the pepper and the tart, slightly green quality of black currant prevent the neroli from reading too soft.

Imperium opens with bergamot's bright citrus edge quickly overtaken by tuberose—not the creamy, indolic variety, but something sharper and greener, tempered by neroli's bitter-orange coolness.

The opening apple note feels airy and slightly green rather than gourmand, setting an unexpectedly fresh stage for what becomes an ambitious white floral composition.

Petitgrain opens bright and waxy-green — citrus-adjacent but with a bitter-leaf quality that keeps the opening from becoming generic.

A brief bergamot opening gives way almost immediately to the heart: tuberose, jasmine, narcissus, lily of the valley, and rose all at once — dense and unapologetic.

The tuberose here arrives bright and almost effervescent, stripped of its usual funeral parlor heaviness.

J'adore L'Or arrives with a molten brilliance, jasmine pushed to amber extremes.

Bvlgari Man in Black opens with the dark sweetness of rum laced through tobacco leaf—not cigarette smoke, but the plant itself, green-edged and resinous.

Plum and peach open with ripe, almost jammy fruitiness — the cardamom adding warm spice that elevates the fruit above simple sweetness.

Plum and peach open with ripe, almost jammy fruitiness — the cardamom adding warm spice that elevates the fruit above simple sweetness.

L'Heure Bleue opens with a fleeting brightness—bergamot softened by anise's herbal sweetness—before sinking into something deeper and more melancholic.

Nuit de Noël opens with a plush, narcotic wave of white flowers—jasmine and ylang-ylang meeting the waxy sweetness of tuberose.

The opening shocks with its sharp tropical cut—pineapple and galbanum slice through mint and bergamot, bright and almost citric in their intensity.

L'Heure Bleue opens with a shimmer of citrus and anise that quickly gives way to its true nature: a twilight meditation on powder and flowers.

Boadicea the Victorious names each fragrance after a virtue or epithet, and Valiant announces its ambitions before a single note lands.

Hunter Intense opens with a sharp citrus flash—lemon and bergamot—that quickly gives way to an unusual heart.

Supreme Bouquet opens with a sheer veil of pear and pink pepper—neither sweet nor sharp, but a luminous haze that settles quickly into white florals.

34 Boulevard Saint Germain EDP opens with an aromatic spice accord that defines its Parisian boutique brief: clove and cinnamon provide warm, dry spice, while pink pepper adds a brighter, fizzing counterpoint.

The opening announces itself with austere patchouli and a flush of bitter citrus, bypassing charm for something more architectural.

Roja Dove 51 Pour Femme is built for grandeur.

Hot Couture EDT arrived in 2000 as Givenchy translated its fashion house attitude into a feminine fruity-floral.

Gio arrives as a statement — jasmine and bergamot opening into a voluminous floral heart that makes no apologies: gardenia, tuberose, ylang-ylang, orange blossom, lily of the valley, and iris alongside peach and myrrh, a full-spectrum bouquet with enough variety to keep shifting through the first hour.

N°22 opens with an almost austere clarity—white florals stripped of their sweetness, neroli cutting through tuberose like citrus through cream.

The opening is a white floral rush—tuberose and neroli tangled with lily of the valley—immediate and almost indolic, but held in check by a crisp, citrus-tinged brightness.

Byzance opens with the culinary precision of a professional kitchen — lemon and basil together, brightened by cardamom's warm spice.

Diaghilev opens with a curious tension—the brightness of citrus undercut by tarragon's anise-green shadow and a faint animal warmth from cumin.

Panthère opens with a burst of sharp citrus and the faint rasp of ginger before diving headlong into a landscape of gardenia and tuberose that feels lush without drowning in sweetness.

A collaboration with style icon Daphne Guinness, and it reads accordingly: theatrical, intensely personal, and far more daring than anything commercially motivated.

Jolie Madame opens with a bite of green petitgrain and neroli that barely softens the flowers to come.

Biografia Assinatura opens with an unusual alliance: soft pear and almond cushioning the snap of black and pink pepper, touched by violet's powdery coolness.

Atlas Fever reads as an exercise in constructive tension.

Soleil de Jeddah Mango Kiss opens with orange blossom — not the indolic, heady version but something brighter, almost neroli-adjacent, carrying clean white-petal sweetness before the warmth moves in.

Soleil de Jeddah Mango Kiss opens with orange blossom — not the indolic, heady version but something brighter, almost neroli-adjacent, carrying clean white-petal sweetness before the warmth moves in.

The opening is a quick flash of peach and citrus, sweet but not syrupy, like biting into slightly underripe fruit warmed by sunlight.

The opening is a soft blur of ripe fruit—plum and peach worn close to the skin, not loud or candied, but genuinely tender.

Infinity opens as Montale usually does — without apologies.

The opening neroli is brief and clean, a citrus wash that quickly gives way to the heart's white florals.

The opening arrives with a sharp, almost metallic jasmine that refuses to be sweet—there's an apricot-like facet from the osmanthus that adds tartness rather than comfort.

Good Girl Supreme opens with a jolt of tuberose that feels almost indolic, fleshy and heady in a way that commands attention.

The opening arrives with an unexpected sweetness—overripe plum and pineapple that lean candied rather than fresh, tempered by bergamot's bitter edge.

La Rive's Her Choice is a straightforward white floral built for warm-weather accessibility.

The honey announces itself immediately—not drizzled but viscous, darkened with a faint animalic edge that makes the sweetness provocative rather than innocent.

Tuberose arrives immediately—creamy, almost buttery, but tempered by aromatic sage that keeps the opening from veering too sweet.

A sheer fruited tuberose that opens with the unmistakable crisp sweetness of pear, rounded by a subtle blackcurrant shadow.

Moon Bloom opens with a narcotic tuberose that feels denser and oilier than most modern interpretations—this is the flower at night, heavy with nectar, almost fermented.

Wanted Girl By Night stakes its territory immediately — rum and Chantilly cream create a sugary-alcoholic opening that's opulent without equivocation.

C for Women announces itself with the quiet authority Clive Christian's compositions favor: petitgrain provides a cool, slightly bitter green lift, bergamot adds citrus brightness, and narcissus — rarely used in modern perfumery — contributes a cold, slightly narcotic green-floral note that sets an unusual introductory tone before the main event.

The top of 34 Boulevard Saint Germain is a controlled riot — cinnamon, clove, cardamom, pink pepper, black currant, and fig leaf arriving simultaneously, spicy and tart and green at once.

Bergamot and mandarin create a citrus-warm opening before jasmine and tuberose establish the white floral core — jasmine indolic and narcotic, tuberose creamy and dense.

Sublime Époque is Zara's take on the white floral soliflore: a single bright bergamot top dissolves quickly into a dense heart of tuberose, jasmine, and orange blossom that carries the entire composition.

Tuberose at full throttle—Carnal Flower opens with a jolt of green melon that quickly gives way to one of the most unrestrained white florals in modern perfumery.

Tuberose announces itself immediately—green and narcotic, softened by a gauze of peach that keeps the opening from turning too operatic.

The opening announces itself with a bright clash of tart pomegranate and powdery lily, an unexpectedly vivid pairing that sidesteps typical rose introduction strategies.

A neroli and peach opening that feels both bright and slightly overripe, sweet without being syrupy.

Peregrina opens with a white floral salvo — gardenia, jasmine, lily of the valley, and Damask rose converging in a freshly cut arrangement that reads lush rather than delicate.

The first spray releases a sharp jolt of ginger laced with citrus brightness, almost peppery in its immediacy.

Lei opens with a rush of tropical sweetness—pineapple and pear meet lime and bergamot in a fizzy, almost sparkling introduction that feels decidedly late-nineties in its exuberance.

The opening is an almost narcotic wall of white florals—tuberose and gardenia pushed to the edge of indolic heaviness, undercut by jasmine's brightness.

Y opens with a sharp, resinous galbanum that slices through gardenia's white petals and a hint of overripe peach.

Tuberose announces itself with almost alarming intensity—green, creamy, and faintly narcotic.

A tuberose bomb wrapped in warm spices and resins, Sacrebleu Intense opens with cinnamon that feels more like Christmas potpourri than raw bark—sweet, dusty, almost confected.

Mint and grapefruit open with a cool, bright freshness unusual for 1980 — a more transparent launch than most contemporaries were attempting.

The original Hypnotic Poison's almond-bitter theatrics are softened here into something warmer and less angular.

The opening feels like crushed plum skin dusted with pink pepper—slightly tart, faintly spiced, more texture than sweetness.

L'Interdit Eau de Parfum Intense opens with a crackling black pepper that feels almost electric against the skin, setting an immediate tension between spice and shadow.

Miss Dior Chérie EDT 2010 opens with an intense white floral chorus — tuberose, jasmine, lily of the valley, and freesia all at once, a voluminous composition that reads as a declaration rather than an introduction.

The opening flashes bright grapefruit against a soft violet backdrop, an unexpected freshness that quickly yields to the perfume's true nature: a luxurious white floral accord built on tuberose and jasmine.

A dark suit of a fragrance, opening with boozy rum that reads more bittersweet than tropical—almost medicinal in its intensity, like aged spirits in a mahogany cabinet.

Bath & Body Works Secret Wonderland opens on a single tart raspberry — bright, slightly candy-edged, immediately recognizable as the BBW idiom and setting expectations correctly from the first moment.

Fragonard's Fleur d'Oranger opens in the manner of Grasse at midday — orange blossom in its fullest expression, simultaneously sweet and faintly medicinal, waxy and solar.

La Vie Est Belle L'Eau de Parfum Intense opens with a polished brightness—pear and citrus give way almost immediately to pink pepper's gentle warmth.

**Glamorous** opens with a sharp, unadorned rose—crisp petals rather than syrupy florals.

The original Kenzo opens with a plush, almost syrupy sweetness—plum and peach softened by orange blossom—that immediately signals late-eighties abundance.

Tuberose stands front and center—bruised, slightly overripe, with a green-wet quality that keeps it from tipping into pure cream.

The opening is a soft blur of raspberry and citrus, sweetened but not syrupy, with pink pepper adding a gentle prickle.

Victoria's Secret Tease opens on a single pear note — soft, slightly honey-edged, rounding the transition into the white-floral heart with minimal fanfare.

The opening presents a sharp herbal clash—ginger and sage colliding with basil's green spice—before bergamot smooths the edges.

The lightest expression of the Good Girl signature opens with bright citrus and ylang-ylang that immediately feels less dense than its predecessors, like sunlight breaking through.

Manifesto L'Elixir opens with a brief citrus clarity before tuberose takes command—not the indolic greenhouse variety, but something smoother and more deliberate, as if filtered through powdered almonds.

Melon and grapefruit open with a fresh-aquatic brightness, gardenia adding a creamy tropical counterpoint and jasmine and lily of the valley keeping the floral register present from the very first moment.

Vert Malachite opens with a sharp, slightly bitter petitgrain alongside sun-bright orange — the combination reads as natural, almost unpolished, as if citrus peel rather than extracted oil.

Fire & Ice opens with a crisp floral brightness—orange blossom and osmanthus lending an apricot-tinged sweetness that feels surprisingly fresh for a fragrance built around heavier white flowers.

The opening is a blast of crisp apple and cinnamon, bright enough to feel almost candied, but with a dusty warmth that keeps it from turning juvenile.

A green floral from an era when perfume didn't whisper.

The name promises a contradiction—white and animal—and the fragrance delivers.

Ambre Gris opens with sage and pink pepper — an aromatic, slightly medicinal clarity that gives the incense heart something cool to burn through.

Floratta Red opens with a crisp, slightly tart apple paired with bright orange—an unabashedly fruity introduction that feels approachable rather than syrupy.

A sheer red-fruit veil opens this Brazilian eau de toilette—crisp apple brightness tempered by soft orange, neither loud nor saccharine.