In recent years, I've come to embrace perfume as a gateway to Zen. I seek fragrances that feel meditative, compositions that soothe the body and spirit into stillness. It turns out that the powerhouse chypres and fougères of the seventies, eighties, and even early nineties rarely offer that kind of serenity. Their dense arrangements of caustic fruits, pungent woods, intense musks, and heavy spices feel more theatrical than tranquil. When I want to feel at peace, I reach for scents with softer textures, muted tones, and a calm connection to nature. These are perfumes that don’t shout from the bottle but instead whisper gently, inviting quiet rather than commanding attention.
Cypress Cedar is one such fragrance. Interestingly, the perfumer behind it remains unnamed, a rarity for Banana Republic’s Icon Collection. Often compared to Terre d'Hermès (2006), Cypress Cedar offers a greener, quieter experience. Where Terre d'Hermès leans into orange, grapefruit, and a mineral flint heart, Cypress Cedar plays with bergamot, lemon, and a touch of spearmint for a brisk opening. It introduces rhubarb in the mid-notes, offering a green twist before settling into a base of cedar, vetiver, patchouli, and white musk. The result is less fiery than its Hermès counterpart, lacking the warmth of benzoin and black pepper, but delivering a sense of cool restraint. It won’t dazzle in a crowd, but it might leave you feeling unexpectedly grounded and calm, like a well-tended bonsai on a windowsill.
Fragrances like this are about simplicity and intention, creating accords that stay true to their promise. Like Jo Malone or Yardley offerings, Cypress Cedar doesn't aim to surprise, but it offers quiet depth. There's a chance the perfumer used Iso E Super in a style reminiscent of Jean-Claude Ellena, with a nod to the aesthetic of a Japanese pebble garden. The citrus notes aren't Guerlain quality, but they avoid the sharpness of cheap aldehydes. They smell fresh, juicy, and green—an ideal setup for what follows. The woody notes are smooth and never get too deep or funky. This is what Montblanc Starwalker wanted to be: a cool, misty morning in a grove of cypress, where tension dissolves in the hush of rustling branches. Not extraordinary, but quietly beautiful.