I fell in love with the scent of tuberose flowers in Los Angeles; every week, huge piles of tuberose stalks would be delivered to the big downtown flower market. A two-foot-long individual stalk was $3.50! (A laughable figure these days.) A work friend would go to the flower market every other Friday to pick up ten stalks — five for her home and five for the office. Weeks and weeks would pass when I’d smell fresh tuberose flowers almost every day. Heaven.
At the same time, Robert Piguet Fracas (the Pierre Negrin version) was a huge hit in Hollywood. Wherever I went — the museum, the movies, Grand Central Market, my dentist (the worst place to smell Fracas, believe me!) — I was knocked in the nostrils by the most powerful perfume version of tuberose. Hell.
Fast forward to the release of Editions de Parfums Frédéric Malle Carnal Flower. My husband wore Carnal Flower and as the years went by, I’d mincingly spray it on my neck. Slowly, perfume tuberose began to interest me. Currently, I wear Rogue Perfumery Flos Mortis (medicine-cabinet tuberose), Olfactive Studio Ombre Indigo (temple tuberose) and Naomi Goodsir Nuit de Bakélite (the masculine mate of Fracas — what a power couple)! If you sprayed half your body with Fracas and the other half with Nuit de Bakélite, you’d become the (tuberose-drenched) embodiment of Ardhanarishvara — a half male, half female deity.
Now, the Mexican perfumery Xinú has charmed me with their version of tuberose: OroNardo (which translates as “golden tuberose”); it was developed by Mexico-born perfumer Rodrigo Flores-Roux. OroNardo starts off fruity (with scents that remind me of overripe oranges and bitter, unripe “bananas” — part green fruit, part banana blossom). Mixing with this natural-smelling opening is a waxy note that reminds me of the scent of Crayola crayons (at least how they used to smell — I’ve not used a crayon in decades.) During the early stages of its development, OroNardo’s overall effect is “jungle tuberose” — earthy, damp, with whiffs of fruit (some, past its prime).
But a change is coming.
A natural-smelling tuberose aroma is the heart of OroNardo and the other listed notes seem represented not by their true scents but by their characteristics. Queen of the Night (white floral), yellow oleander flowers (fruity), mock orange blossoms (candied) and marigold (tangy). (ASIDE: I’d love a true-smelling marigold note in OroNardo — why is “marigold” so often promised in perfumes but never fully delivered? The aroma of much-used tomato leaf is as pungent and striking — why not employ marigold in the same way?)
Overall, OroNardo is a beautiful tuberose soliflore — neither “starched” nor soapy, not too seductive, not too tame. OroNardo is a tuberose perfume that’s perfect for summertime wear (it won’t overpower — or wear — you). OroNardo is my “garden tuberose.” To me, the “golden” in the perfume’s name represents happiness.
If you have a large selection of tuberose perfumes, you may not need OroNardo in your collection. But if you’re tip-toeing into the tuberose perfume realm or have found many tuberose perfumes too glam or femme-fatale/dandy-ish in character, give OroNardo a sniff if you have the chance.
In just a few weeks, we’ll be planting LOTS of tuberose bulbs in pots so we can enjoy the flowers this summer…because nothing can beat the scent of the flower itself.
Xinú OroNardo lists notes of mock orange blossom, Queen of the Night (Epiphyllum oxypetalum), marigold, tuberose, yellow oleander. It is available in 4.5 ($30), 15 ($109) and 50 ($240) ml Eau de Parfum. A “Collection Kit” with 4.5 ml droppers of Aguamadera, Copála, Ummo, Monstera and OroNardo is $120.
Note: top left image is detail from Plate 6, La botanique de J.J. Rousseau: ornée de soixante-cinq planches, imprimées en couleurs d’après les peintures de P.J. Redouté, 1805 [background removed and color adjusted] via Wikimedia Commons, public domain.