3600

By the editors · 2 min readPerry Ellis 3600 opens with an unusual collision of dewy melon and petal-soft florals—lily and osmanthus blend into something cool and slightly green, more aqueous than sweet. The rose here is transparent, almost ghostly, never powdered or rich. It feels like the early nineties distilled: clean, optimistic, unapologetically soft.

As it settles, aromatic lavender and sage cut through the fruitiness with a gentle herbal clarity, while lily of the valley adds a silvery, soapy freshness. The base never grows heavy—sandalwood and vetiver remain polished and restrained, with just enough vanilla and amber to suggest warmth without tipping into gourmand territory. The musk is subtle, more about texture than scent.

This is the kind of fragrance that thrives in fluorescent-lit offices and Sunday mornings, too polite to dominate but pleasant enough to wear without thinking. It speaks to a particular era of feminine perfumery that valued approachability above all else.