6/22/23

The Soft Lawn, Edition 2.0 (Imaginary Authors)


It's fascinating to me when a brand is fairly open and obvious about a reformulation to one of their well-known perfumes. The Soft Lawn was first released in 2012, and received tepid reviews online, with many saying it smelled okay, but unremarkable. It survived for a few years, and then was discontinued and replaced with Edition 2.0 in 2021, which has been received with much more enthusiasm. What makes this edition more appealing is unclear to me, but apparently the first scent was grassy on top, and smelled strongly of tennis ball rubber in the base, which didn't go over so well. 

I haven't had a chance to smell that version, but looking at its note pyramid side-by-side with Edition 2.0's reveals that Josh Meyer, the nose for Imaginary Authors, reversed the order and added some citrus to the newer scent. Linden blossom was once the primary top note, but it has been pushed aside by a massive (and massively unusual) tennis ball note, and I'm here to tell you that I smell it, in all its rubbery glory. I can now say that I know what a tennis ball in a pitcher of grapefruit juice smells like. This rubbery-citrus rapidly segues to soapy linden and vetiver, with underpinnings of oak moss, but the tennis balls bounce around in the background for the duration of the scent, buttressed by the cheery green-grassiness. Things get a bit soapier and sweeter over time, and it smells pleasant enough, but the blending is a little tight, and I find myself wanting more note separation to better distinguish the fragrance's numerous compelling dynamics. 

The Soft Lawn is a "green" fragrance with grassy and woodsy notes in abundance, but the tennis ball element adds a twist of postmodern conceptualism. It's a moment captured in time and space, not a traditional self-effacing structure. From first spritz to final fade-out, Meyer's fragrance transports me to a grass-lined tennis court with fuzzy ball in hand, and with a cool breeze sending it all to my nose. I'm there all day, detecting everything, even a faint whiff of my own laundered clothes in the fourth or fifth hour. If, like me, you pine after a country club membership, but can't hack it financially, here you go.