Naomi Goodsir Iris Cendre

Fascinating. Brilliant.” That was my immediate reaction to the opening of Iris Cendré, the newest fragrance from Naomi Goodsir. It begins as a swirling cloud of olfactory and symbolic contrasts, cleverly juxtaposed one upon another in a fragrance that feels like cool, modernistic minimalism with so much more. Elegant, sophisticated, restrained, with deceptive simplicity that masks great depth and an astonishing range of contrasts, Iris Cendré (“Ashed Iris” or “Iris Ash”) had one of the most intriguing debuts that I’ve come across in a while. And I say this as someone who is not an iris lover! I just wish the rest of the fragrance had lived up to that captivating beginning.



Source: Luckyscent.

Source: Luckyscent.

Iris Cendré (hereinafter just “Iris Cendre” without the accent) is an eau de parfum that was released about 10 days ago. It was created by Julien Rasquinet who also made all the other fragrances in the line. On her website, Naomi Goodsir describes the scent and its notes as follows:

une FLEUR sacrée,
a FOOLISH heart,
obscure CLARTÉ,
MAJESTIC messenger,

Floral oriental (2015)
A fresh floral tone, led by bergamot, tangerine & spices. A rich incense & powdery heart of violet & iris. Sensuality is enhanced by cistus, tobacco & amber.

The succinct list of notes therefore seems to be:

Bergamot, tangerine, spices, incense, violet, iris, cistus, tobacco, and amber.

"Blue Iris" by Alfred Ng at Fine Art America. (Direct website link embedded within.)

“Blue Iris” by Alfred Ng at Fine Art America. (Direct website link embedded within.)

Iris Cendre opens on my skin as a play of light and dark, crisp cleanness and dark earthiness, Spring and Fall, and so much more. Ripples of cool greenness are followed by smoke and ashes, singed cedary woods, and warmth. The first wave consists of brisk, chilled citruses that are just lightly sweetened by drops of sweet, juicy tangerine. The second wave is a multi-faceted floralcy that feels rooty and quietly earthy but, also, creamy with the suede-like undertones so typical of iris. Its soft, breathy plushness is elegantly fluid, streamlined, and minimalistic like the inside of a very expensive suede bag.



Moments later, the third wave splatters it with modernistic heapings of ash, smelling like the charred cinders of fresh cedar logs. Layered in-between are sheaves of dark tobacco that are warm, moist, and raw in a way that is almost dirty, but not quite. This is not the sweetened, fruity overtones of pipe tobacco, but something more elemental and earthy. A subtle warmth stirs deep in the base, ensuring that the iris never turns stony, icy, or dank.

Photo: Paul Huggins Photography. (Direct website link embedded within.)

Photo: Paul Huggins Photography. (Direct website link embedded within.)

Throughout it all, all these different layers are surrounded by a fresh, crisp greenness. It immediately conjures up images of tender spring shoots pushing their way up through dark soil. I think the violet is responsible, even if it’s not a distinct, clearly delineated note. It swirls all around as a shimmering haze of abstract greenness, more like a dewy freshness that evokes dainty four-leaf clovers and budding leaves than anything floral. To my relief, in the first hour, it never emits that excessively sharp, lemony, and metallic quality so frequently found with violet accords. That later changes, but the opening hour avoids anything pointedly synthetic, thin, or sharp in feel.

I find the overall effect to be fascinating and utterly mesmerizing. There are so many contrasts happening simultaneously, layers that don’t typically go together but which are seamlessly juxtaposed here with perfect balance and restraint in a way that really works. I tip my hat to Mr. Rasquinet because it would have been all too easy for Iris Cendre’s opening to be a sloppy, discordant mishmash of inapposite notes, but that is never the case. Somehow, it just feels wildly inventive, original, and elegantly sophisticated. I genuinely like the smell, but I’m also drawn by the intellectual symbolism and disparities involved. There is something so clever about the way the coolness vies with the subtle warmth of the burnt woods; how the spring-like freshness and elements of renewal lie side by side with the symbolic decay implied by ash; the manner in which Iris Cendre bottles not only the whole iris from petals to the roots and earth at its base, but also the forest smoking and burning around it; not to mention the contrast of between a fashionable suede handbag next to rawer, more outdoorsy and primal elements. It’s so artistic — to the point that I felt as though I were wearing an olfactory montage of Georgia O’Keeffe’s various iris series of paintings, spliced together.

Georgia O'Keeffe, "Jack-in-the-Pulpit No. IV," 1930, via

Georgia O’Keeffe, “Jack-in-the-Pulpit No. IV,” 1930, via

Georgia O'Keeffe's "Black Iris." Source:

Georgia O’Keeffe’s “Black Iris.” Source:

It’s also more than the simple “Floral Oriental” that Naomi Goodsir uses to describe Iris Cendre. It’s simultaneously: a dark autumnal oriental; a crisp, spring green scent like the sort Chanel used to make; and a floral woody musk — all in one, the pieces of the puzzle fitting together in a way that makes one wonder why nothing like this has been tried before: an iris surrounded by spring’s budding green leaves, its gnarled roots digging into an autumnal cedar forest’s damp, tobacco-y earth, with creamy suede petals coated by a forest fire’s cinders and splattered with fresh citruses before the whole thing is laced up with ribbons of incense smoke.



How does this all work so well??! It’s utterly brilliant, in my opinion, and I’m neither an iris lover nor a fan of the green genre. I think the key and critical factor here are the dark accords, particularly the smoke and ashes. The latter has been particularly well handled, in my opinion. In some fragrances, the note has skewed towards cigarette ashes on my skin, which I find unpleasant as dirty ashtray tonalities are not my thing. In other fragrances, like several from Andy Tauer, or Monsieur Rasquinet’s own Russian Tea for Masque Milano, the note is primarily cade campfire smoke which frequently wafts a harsh tarriness, almost like the creosote gunk that coats the inside of a chimney. That is also not my thing. Yet, here, the aroma is something completely different. I know this will sound oddly contradictory, but it smells like clean, soft, fresh ashes in a fireplace. Cinderella’s cinders in a good way, if you will. It is far gentler and significantly less arid than the charred wood and black smoke in Monsieur Rasquinet’s Bois d’Ascece for Naomi Goodsir, which makes the note even more appealing, in my opinion. And it’s heaped upon soft, floral, suede-like iris in a way that feels utterly magical.

Photo: The Biking Gardener. (Direct website link embedded within.)

Photo: The Biking Gardener. (Direct website link embedded within.)

Iris Cendre starts to shift 15 minutes into its development. The tangerine disappears, along with its subtle touch of juicy sweetness. The iris takes on more buttery qualities in its base, as well as a greater rootiness that works really well with the other notes. The ash begins to lighten and disperses all around, as though it had been scattered on the wind to coat everything more finely. The cedary woods, the musky, raw tobacco, and the sense of dark, loamy earth also start to feel more diffuse. At the same time, the violet turns a hair more lemony, amplified by the growing presence of the bergamot. Not long after, the violet’s amorphous greenness surges forth in even greater strength, increasingly overshadowing the darker elements and leaving a cooler, green-centric iris scent with only a quiet rootiness in its base, subtle floralcy, and slivers of singed woods. The ash and incense smokiness begin to fluctuate at  the 30 minute mark, waxing and waning, rippling back and forth over the iris like waves lapping at the shore. One minute they’re in the background; the next, they feel like a noticeable layer atop and under the iris.

Painting by Moon Beom via

Painting by Moon Beom via

For a short while, all the juxtaposed contrasts seem to have faded away, but it’s a brief phase because many of the interesting elements return as the end of the first hour and the start of the second. They’re simply diffused on the air, seamlessly blended until they feel part and parcel of the iris which is now strongly smoky and wrapped with tendrils of incense. There is also a subtle powderiness that is new to the scent, but it’s due to the iris more than any woody cinders. The greenness of spring shoots hovers all around but, like the incense and the quietly smoked cedar, it’s a shimmering haze. The clean, cool suede is less overt, subsumed now in the base where it runs along side a subtle streak of warmth, but neither one is easily noticed unless you sniff hard, up close, and concentrate. It’s the same with the tobacco which now feels simply dry, almost more like a cigar at times, rather than anything raw, musky, or dirty.

Orris Noir. Source: Fragrantica.

Orris Noir. Source: Fragrantica.

All of it feels elegantly cool, minimalist, and unlike other dark iris scents that I’ve tried. Now, I grant you, I haven’t tried a huge number of fragrances in the genre because I’m not the world’s greatest iris lover, but Iris Cendre feels quite unique to me. Consider, for example, some of the supposedly “noir” iris scents like Ormonde Jayne’s Orris Noir. On my skin, there was nothing “noir” about it. Not one single iota. It was primarily creamy Earl Grey tea infused with lemon, pepper, and davana floralcy that later turned into a lemony, jasmine floral woody musk. Or take AedesIris Nazarena. I’ve heard some people describe it a smoky, dark, or incense-y iris scent, but it was never so on my skin. No incense at all. To me, Iris Nazarena is far floral than Iris Cendre, particularly at the start. There is citrusy freshness and some greenness but, as a whole, it is a sweeter, mostly clean iris floral woody musk that lacks any of the fascinating juxtapositions found in Iris Cendre’s opening phase.

Photo: Ray Collins at

Photo: Ray Collins at

I wish that opening lasted because the subsequent development of Iris Cendre is not particularly distinctive, interesting, or compelling, in my opinion. By the end of the 2nd hour and start of the third, the greenness returns in full force, accompanied by a clean musk. (Regular readers should see where this is heading.) The ashes and singed woods are so diffused and scattered that they merely hint at a cinder cloud in the faraway distance. The tobacco is barely noticeable but, once in a blue moon, it pops up alongside the ash. The ribbons of incense smokiness are thinner, smaller, and quieter. The iris is nice, though, and now feels more than ever like the softest, plushest suede. More and more, Iris Cendre feels like a hybrid mix of a floral, woody musk combined with a crisp, green scent (like some of the old Chanel classics). The drop in darkness and rise in greenness are matched by the iris’ veil of powderiness, the new spurts of musk, an abstract woodiness that weaves its way all around, and an overall sense of cleanness. It’s too green for me personally from the 2nd hour to the middle of the 4th, but Iris Cendre retains just enough smoky darkness for me to find the scent to still be oddly appealing at times.



I’m afraid that changes. By the start of the 5th hour, Iris Cendre is far too green and with too much clean, white musk for my tastes. The ashes, shadows, and darkness are hanging on by a thread at the furthest edges; the woodiness is wholly generic; the tobacco has disappeared; and the iris feels increasingly faceless and nondescript, like a simple, only vaguely iris-y, clean floralcy with a growing touch of powderiness that sometimes emits a tonka-ish vibe. In essence, Iris Cendre is now a green twist on the basic floral, woody musk genre. Or, put another way, a fresh floral woody musk cocooned in a green haze.



Iris Cendre remains that way for hours to come. The only major change is that the greenness gradually softens after 7 hours, then finally disappears at the end of the 8th hour, leaving a hushed floralcy that only occasionally hints at being iris-ish. It’s fully infused with a clean, woody musk, then dusted with tonka-ish powder. Drops of something vaguely citrusy lurk in the background once in a blue moon, but it’s as ghostly as the whisper of smokiness that passes by even more rarely and fleetingly. For the most part, Iris Cendre is an undistinguished, simple blur of floral, woody cleanness with white musk. It’s not particularly remarkable, but it is significantly better quality than the typical designer or mainstream entries in this genre. That quality is underscored by the genuinely pleasant, soft plushness that arrives in the middle of the 9th hour. It’s a sort of silkiness that is almost creamy and suede-like, but not quite. In its final moments, Iris Cendre is merely a wisp of plush softness with a subtle sliver of warmth about it.

Iris Cendre had good longevity, soft projection, and moderate to soft sillage. Using several squirts from a mini atomizer roughly equal to 2 good, solid sprays from an actual bottle, Iris Cendre opened with about 4 inches of projection and about 4 to 5 inches of a scent trail. The sillage felt soft after 30 minutes, though the fragrance was easy to detect from a small distance until the end of the 3rd hour whenever I moved my arms. The projection dropped to 1 inch after 2.5 hours, but Iris Cendre only became a skin scent on me after 5.75 hours. It took a little effort to detect after 8.5 hours, but the fragrance clung on. In total, it lasted 11.5 hours.

"Cosmic" by John Douglas via

“Cosmic” by John Douglas via

Iris Cendre is too new to have any comments on its Fragrantica page at this time or a lot of blog reviews, but Mark Behnke discusses it on Colognoisseur where it calls it a “unique iris scent” with greenness, and one of the best new releases of 2015. He writes, in part, as follows:

M. Rasquinet opens with a sweet flourish of tangerine and bergamot bolstered with a grace note of spices. Consider it a flamboyant bow as the curtain raises on the star of the show an extremely decadent orris butter. […] Instead of turning into something found on the cosmetics counter it is more like something found beneath the earth as the iris stays much closer to its rooty origination as the rhizome from which orris butter is derived. Early on M. Rasquinet matches the iris with violet adding in the more floral quality of a different purple flower. At this point in any other perfume a descent into powder would be inevitable. Here a clean incense with a slightly metallic character cuts that off at the pass. It picks up the rooty qualities and even makes the violet more astringent. In the base M. Raquinet uses a variation on the cistus, tobacco, and amber construct he used previously in Bois D’Ascese. In that fragrance it was what lurked under the smoke. Here it provides a bit of translucent haze for the final phases.

I agree with him on Iris Cendre’s uniqueness. I may have gotten the Bois d’Ascece notes at the beginning instead of the end of the fragrance, but they were a brilliant, perfectly calibrated, and utterly fascinating addition that made Iris Cendre’s opening (particularly in the first 30 minutes) one of the best that I’ve tried in a long time. I may not have liked the extent of the greenness that subsequently took over, but that is an issue of personal note preferences and tastes. The middle-to-end phases may have felt rather prosaic and unoriginal (which is less of a personal matter), but the Bois d’Ascece parts make Iris Cendre a must-try fragrance if you love smoky florals. The one caveat is that I think you must love a lot of greenness as well. Ideally, you’d also enjoy the clean floral woody musk genre and some powderiness, too. If you normally dislike iris scents, all I can say is that I’m not really an iris lover myself but the Bois d’Ascece version of the flower might blow you away, whether it appears at the start or the end of the fragrance on your skin.

You have no idea how much I wish it lasted all the way through. Those juxtaposed contrasts are symbolically, intellectually, and olfactorily brilliant! What they do to the iris is so mesmerizing, Georgia O’Keeffe would have been inspired to paint another iris series. Hell, I’d paint some smoky, ash-splattered irises myself if I could. In short, Iris Cendre is definitely worth trying if only to experience that remarkable phase for yourself, no matter how long it may last.

Disclosure: My sample was provided courtesy of Luckyscent. That did not impact this review. I do not do paid reviews, and my opinions are my own.

Cost & Availability: Iris Cendre is an eau de parfum that is available only in a 50 ml/1.7 oz size that costs $185 or €125. The Naomi Goodsir website doesn’t have an e-store from which you can purchase the perfume directly. In the U.S.: you can buy it from Luckyscent  (which has priced it at $187). They sell samples and ship worldwide. Outside the U.S.: I don’t think Naomi Goodsir is carried in the U.K. or Canada. In Europe, Iris Cendre is available at First in Fragrance, Essenza Nobile, Paris’ Nose boutique, Italy’s Neos1911, and Hungary’s Neroli. Premiere Avenue carries Naomi Goodsir and frequently sells 5 ml decants, but it does not have Iris Cendre at the time of this review. In the Netherlands, ParfuMaria no longer shows the brand on their website. Skins carries Naomi Goodsir, but Iris Cendre is not yet listed on their website, so you may want to check in a few weeks. Italy’s Alla Violetta no longer seems to carry the brand. Sacre Cuore does stock Naomi Goodsir, but doesn’t have Iris Cendré at the time of this review. In Belgium, Kroonen & Brown carries the line. Australia’s Peony Melbourne sells Naomi Goodsir, but doesn’t have Iris Cendre yet. In the UAE, Villa 515 in Dubai carries the line. For all other locations from Spain and Croatia to Riyadh, Korea, Kiev, and Romania, you can use the Naomi Goodsir Retailers list to find a vendor near you. Samples: I obtained my vial from Luckyscent. I haven’t seen Iris Cendre at any of the decant sites. Several of the European retailers on this list sell samples.

20 thoughts on “Naomi Goodsir Iris Cendre

  1. The first time I saw Iris Cendre’s notes and description listed I thought I may like it; I loved Bois d’Ascece, although I smelled it many months ago. “Fascinating. Brilliant.” made me say “Hah, I knew it!” but when I got to the part about clean musk I just thought damn. I will still give it a try though! 🙂 Oh, I also enjoyed Or du Serail as well.

    I still think you should go paint some Irises even if they don’t resemble anything remotely O’ Keeffe. 😀 Great review K. Thanks!

    • Or du Serail is a great scent, and I admire Bois d’Ascece even if it’s too dry and austere for me personally. I hope you’ll try Iris Cendre. Your skin may not bring out the clean musk after all.

  2. Fascinating review. Iris is one of my favorit notes – and this one sounds like something I could really really like. I’m not keen on tobacco, and even less on violet, but it needs to be tried, because all the rest sounds like an autumn beauty.

    • I’d love to know what you thought of this one, Mi’Lady, so let me know if or when you try it!

  3. This sounds so lovely and so different – when you said it was like an old Chanel classic my senses pricked up – oh those were the days – now Chanel is like old bubblegum:( Trouble is here in the UK it seems pretty much unobtainable – but just lately I’m revisiting some SL samples I’ve had and to be honest he still is THE Master Perfumer for me – even the ones I wasn’t keen on originally like Cedre are glorious second/third time around. I think I’m going to send for a bell-jar of Fourreau Noir instead of trying to hunt this down… THAT is a masterpiece!

    • No, my dear, I said the crisp, green part of the scent reminded me of some of the Chanel classics, not that this scent was like a Chanel one as a whole. It’s the extent of the greenness and just how so crisp and cool it is that creates a similar feel, but Iris Cendre doesn’t have the Chanel aldehydic signature, its iris is very different, there is blackness here that no Chanel fragrance has, and it is wholly modern in feel rather than dated, classique, or traditional.

  4. Im Trying Or de Serail this weekend and await Bois d’Ascece. This one sounds like it could go either way for me. I have no issues with green-and enjoy twists on green. But the clean musk would be an issue. I have yet to find an iris I like. Not sure why … Too much powder or carrot turns me off. Bottom line: this sounds like a definite try out for me. And we shall see what my skin does with it. It will have to wait though: I have banned myself from any scent purchases until Xmas (Im looking at all of you delinquent Amber purchases!) First I have to decide between Onda and Eau Scandaleuse (or save up for both), and then it would be good to stop wearing samples and actually visit with my FBs!!!! Until then, this Iris is on the Xmas samples list 🙂
    Thank you Temptaesque

    • I don’t think you have to worry about the iris too much. Or at all. This is such a different iris than the powdery, makeup ones, and there is nothing carroty about it either. To the extent that there is powder, it skews toward a tonka-ish sweetness, rather than the usual lipstick, makeup, or clean talc side. Even better, there is also none of the iris’ dank, crypt, or icy stone facets here. You know, I was never particularly keen on iris either, but I’ve developed a fondness for the gourmand treatment of the note. The fragrance that started the slow shift was SHL 777’s Khol de Bahrein which is an ambered, heliotrope-ish, vanilla-ish, gourmand iris. I think you should try it and see if you like it. Actually, I think you should try several of the SHL 777 line, as many of the fragrances are very well done, opulent, and/or interesting. It’s one of the brands that I really like a lot.

  5. Hello K. Very much enjoyed this review though iris and I are not friends yet, perhaps Iris Cendré could change that. 🙂

    May I ask if you’ve tried the three fragrances from Anatole Lebreton? Bois Lumiere, L’Eau de Merzhin, and L’Eau Scandaleuse. L’Eau de Merzhin was mentioned as an alternative to Chypre Palatin and while I’m not searching for an alternative as I splurged and got a bottle, anything similar would be of interest. L’Eau Scandaleuse might be of interest for you as something of a leather and tuberose fragrance. Bois Lumiere gets some love as well. Anyway, will definitely try Iris Cendré. Thank you!

    • Luckyscent sent me samples of the 3 Anatole Lebretons, and I gave Eau Scandaleuse and Bois Lumiere a brief initial test. Neither one was my thing, particularly Bois Lumiere which was…hm. I won’t say more until I give it a thorough, full testing. I haven’t gotten to L’Eau de Merzhin, yet.

      As for iris, dearest Carl, it wasn’t my friend either until I tried SHL 777’s Khol de Bahrein. It’s an ambered, heliotrope-ish, semi-gourmand but very unisex iris. Quite unusual and unexpected. I don’t know if it would be your cup of tea, but it’s worth mentioning as the only iris scent that made me pause and reconsider my feelings on the note. It ended up being the only iris I own, in fact. Just thought I’d mention that in passing if you are interested in seeing if you could ever possibly love the note.

      • 🙂
        Merzhin won’t be your thing perhaps, Kafka. And Bois Lumiere was not my thing but so….different than anything I had ever smelt so it was worth it for that. The smell of dry heat in my mind – a bit of feat, even if not somehting I would ever wear again. I would think Eau Scandaleuse isn’t Wagnerian enough for you, and we both differ on that dimension for sure. Can’t wait to see your reviews and compare experiences!
        I have duly noted the SHL777 recommendations for my Xmas package!

        • Paskale! I was going to say it’s never too early to think about Xmas, but it’ll be here before we know it.

      • If I may jump in and say Bois Lumière wasn’t my thing either, but I grew to like L’Eau Scandaleuse quite a bit after an hour had passed. I will definitely try Iris Cendre, especially after this dismal, cold and rainy Pennsylvania weather we had today.

  6. Sample ordered Kafka!
    Stay tuned as I am intrigued by your initial descriptions….
    I’ve always loved the earthiness of Iris but haven’t found a modern perfume that I could say is right for me…. I’m hopeful!

    Thank You!


  7. I have not been an iris fan n the past. Iris Cendre has completely changed my mind. From the first whiff I loved it. The notes really don’t give a clue to what this smells like. You’ll simply have to sample this one, and I think many will be happy they did.

    • I agree, I think this is a twist on iris that could convert even those who had previously hated the note/flower. And you’re very right in your observation that the note list doesn’t give a good idea of what the fragrance smells like. It’s really quite a different thing that people should try for themselves. I’m glad you did, and that you loved it. I assume that you got a lot of the fantastic ash and smoky, woody Bois d’Ascece notes on your skin? I hope they lasted a long time or all the way through.

  8. Finally catching up on your blog Kafka, this sounds completely up my alley. I am intrigued by the combo of green + ash, it sounds like a day at the RennFest. Add the violets and I’m ready to sample it. Thanks for another lovely review!

    • Iris Cendre has a number of notes that are your favorites, Vicki, so I definitely think it’s worth trying.

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