The Story
Why it exists.
The beginning
Jasmine Yuzu launched in 2016, and the brief was deceptively simple. Teone Reinthal reached for jasmine, plural. Not one cultivar but three: sambac, auriculatum, grandiflorum, each carrying a different shade of indolic heat. Then he cut through all of it with Japanese yuzu, a citrus that doesn't behave like lemon or bergamot. The yuzu arrives sharp and almost bitter, closer to rind than to juice, and it lingers at the surface long enough to set up what comes after. Each jasmine variety contributes something distinct to the blend, and together they create a floral presence that feels layered rather than uniform. The yuzu's fleeting brightness gives the composition its opening tension, a flash of citrus that frames the heavier florals without flattening them. It almost glows.
What makes the composition worth studying is the collision. Jasmine grandiflorum leans toward fruity. Auriculatum goes green. Sambac is the loud one. Stacking them gives you multiple facets of the flower at once, not a single flattering angle. The yuzu isn't just an opener. Pink grapefruit reappears in the heart notes, working alongside yuzu to keep the citrus thread alive so the jasmine can't swallow it whole. Myrrh and orris root in the middle ground keep the composition from dissolving into pure floral sweetness, adding a dry, slightly bitter counterweight that grounds the indolic warmth.
The evolution
The first ten minutes are dominated by yuzu, sharp, almost bitter, like rind rather than juice. Then the jasmine arrives in layers, first the cool, green face of auriculatum, then the warmer, almost rubbery depth of sambac. The heart holds for hours, ylang-ylang adding a custard richness while myrrh pulls the sweetness down into something more ancient, more resinous. By hour four, the citrus is mostly gone. What's left is jasmine, orris, tolu balsam, and an animal warmth that wasn't obvious at the start. The drydown settles into a close, creamy haze, and the myrrh continues to deepen as the hours pass, lending the composition a slightly medicinal edge. Orris root adds a powdery softness that smooths the transition from bright opening to dense base. Each phase reveals something new about the materials involved, and the fragrance never feels static.
Cultural impact
This is a jasmine lover's jasmine, uncut by the usual modern softening. Wearers who want indolic warmth and green edges find exactly what they're after. Those expecting a polite citrus-floral get something louder, stranger, more alive. The triple jasmine accord gives the composition a density that single-note interpretations can't achieve, and the yuzu provides a counterpoint that keeps the florals from collapsing into sweetness.
