Iris Rebelle is a notional library made real
Spraying Atelier Cologne’s Iris Rebelle Cologne Absolue ($195, Sephora) is the olfactory equivalent of rereading an old favourite book while nestled in a library armchair. It’s such a wonderful fragrance that I’m baffled why it never got the adoration it deserves. (It launched in 2018.)
Iris Rebelle actually evokes old books: sweetish, and smelling vaguely like pencil shavings. (I mean this as a compliment, in case that wasn’t clear.) A 2009 study with the fantastic title “Material Degradomics: On the Smell of Old Books”, describes that elusive book scent as “a combination of grassy notes with a tang of acids and a hint of vanilla over an underlying mustiness.”
Apparently lignan, a component of wood-based (aka paper) books breaks down after years and begins to smell like vanilla. Iris Rebelle does not smell musty, but its black pepper and bergamot top notes might remind someone with an overactive imagination of degraded paper.
Add Iris and lavender for earthiness and soft powder, and then sit the whole affair atop a warm base of patchouli, woods and white musk. It’s the very embodiment of never-trying-too-hard elegance.
Iris as a perfume note is like the most complex violet ever. It deserves its own national holiday (ok, maybe not here but definitely in France) for the way it elevates everything it touches. It can be, by turn, powdery and romantic (Frederic Malle’s Iris Poudre), ethereally dusty and cozy (Floral Street Iris Goddess), or even sexy and startlingly metallic (Prada Infusion d’Iris). Or it can be like Iris Rebelle, which envelops you, saying ‘come sit and read and wait out the winter while smelling really really good.’