Prada’s Infusion D’Iris is a really interesting scent. It isn’t my possession but my mother’s, and she is one of those people who can’t really put a finger on exactly what type of perfume they love or matches their personality – it’s a ‘floral but not that floral, perhaps a hint of citrus’ sort of situation. Likewise, Infusion D’Iris is unusual and incomprehendable, definitely not as straightforward as its name makes it sound. It’s powdery but in a peppery way, strangely delicate about its pleasant pungency, and warm in a curiously crisp manner. It smells of refreshing, elevating growth, but is also mysterious like the depths of a forest. Smelling it feels both like being enlightened with a new energy, and becoming mystified by the whispers of an unknown secret.
I haven’t smelled many irises in my life, I’ve just seen a lot of the violet ones that are bountiful in English gardens during summer, which release a soft powdery scent as subtle as a breeze on very precise occasions, and the rest of the time simply smell of rubber. Infusion D’Iris evokes no flower or fruit for me in particular, the interesting thing being that although I don’t associate it with any plant, it doesn’t smell at all unnatural. In fact, this fragrance inspires in me the image of a delicate white butterfly totally empowered in its solitary flight over tall, emerald greenery against a cooled-down blue sky on a freshly radiant day, with a clear lake on the other side quenching the glistening grass. Infusion D’Iris is a breath so intensely fresh that it warms around the edges like the platinum glow of where the sun meets the aspiring peaks of river-waves. It is the essence of a magic-infused water held in an ancient green bottle and discovered like a treasure, or of the liberated soul of a tigress reflected in her wild green eyes.