In 2019, Banana Republic released Peony & Peppercorn, a fragrance I own and still enjoy wearing occasionally. It is restrained with respect to peppercorn, instead foregrounding a bright, soapy, pink peony accord. While it does not read as conventionally masculine, I have never found it uncomfortable to wear. The fragrance was composed by former VP of Takasago,Vincent Kuczinski.
Last year, Creed introduced Eladaria, describing it as a “morning rose” built around dewy accords and cool textures. Having finally spent time with it, what immediately stands out is its striking similarity to Peony & Peppercorn. This is eyebrow-raising, particularly given that Carmina previously exhibited subtle parallels to Banana Republic’s Dark Cherry & Amber. In effect, Eladaria smells like a partial convergence of those two Banana Republic fragrances. Its rose accord appears to rely on the same structural framework used in Carmina, while its peony is rendered with the same bright, sudsy clarity found in Peony & Peppercorn. The difference is one of emphasis: in Eladaria, peony ultimately dominates, whereas rose jam with hints of lavender and orange zest leads in Carmina.
The handling of pepper distinguishes the two peony-forward compositions. In Peony & Peppercorn, Kuczinski’s formula barely acknowledges the peppercorn note, allowing peony to carry the fragrance from opening through drydown. Eladaria also privileges peony, but its pink peppercorns remain a consistent and defining textural element from the first spray through the base. Banana Republic’s fragrances are licensed by Maesa, and to my knowledge there is no formal relationship between Maesa and Creed. That said, one cannot help but wonder whether Vincent Kuczinski himself is the perfumer, or at least a main collaborator behind Eladaria.
If that were the case, it would explain a great deal. This particular Creed reads as a luxury refinement of Peony & Peppercorn, though it does not meaningfully extend the original concept. Instead, it remains faithful to the same pepper-and-floral architecture. I detect aldehydes and pink pepper at the top, followed by a faintly ambery sweetness—likely ethyl maltol used in a non-gourmand capacity—before an intensely soapy, citrus-free transition into a linear peony accord, anchored by the same firm rose structure present in Carmina, except here the rose is far lighter. Eladaria is a peony scent.
There is no question that Eladaria is beautiful, and it fully earns its name. Still, it is difficult to ignore the oddity of Creed seemingly mining the Banana Republic mod bank. Dark Cherry & Amber likely contained several viable formula iterations that went unused until Creed’s attention yielded Carmina (although I still think it's closer to Love in Black). Now Eladaria presents itself as an unmistakably close modification of Peony & Peppercorn. The addition of Ambroxan lends salinity and depth, reinforcing the familiar musk and cashmere wood base, but beyond that, the two compositions are uncomfortably close, frankly much closer than Carmina is to Dark Cherry & Amber.
Kuczinski has been VP and Senior Perfumer at MANE since 2011, and MANE perfumer Mathieu Nardin composed Delphinus (which I have yet to review), so there is proof that Creed has collaborated with Kuczinski's firm in recent years. I'll go out on a limb here and say that given this connection, it's likely that Kuczinski was in touch with Creed during Eladaria's development, and perhaps a notebook formula of his 2019 creation was purchased and Creed-ified into the scent.
I would happily buy and wear Eladaria, but that is more a confession than a recommendation. More rational consumers might look at the price tag for this Creed, compare its scent to Peony & Peppercorn, buy the $20 fragrance instead, and live the based life. I say more power to them.