I was recently given some romantic advice about men that I find pertinent to this fragrance review.
Stop going for the flashy, obnoxious, weird extroverts, a particularly astute person told me, and begin to notice the quiet, watchful guys who aren’t vying for your — or anyone’s — attention. They’re the truly interesting ones.
Jules is that second guy in perfume form.
It announces itself as a fougère from the beginning, with the barbershop-y accord of aromatic lavender, florals and tonka (coumarin), but its primary character is leather chypre.
Puckery green notes mixed with herbs and fresh florals seem to radiate outward into an ambery-warm animalic base of leather. If the glowing Peridot birthstone had a scent, it would smell like Jules: light-green, iridescent, pale, fresh, angled, sumptuous, jewel-like, reflective.
"Well-blended" and "balanced" are terms you hear a lot in perfume descriptions, but they are particularly apt descriptors here. The seams do not show in Jules; it’s one unbroken line of beautiful.