Men
Le Jardin de Monsieur Li
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Le Jardin de Monsieur Li by Hermès is an aromatic citrus fragrance for men and women. Launched in 2015, this composition was created by perfumer Jean-Claude Ellena.
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I tried it for the first time and it left me indifferent. It feels simple, as its olfactory pyramid suggests. The dwarf orange (kumquat) predominates; here it’s not as bitter or green as in other Hermès fragrances, but sweet without being cloying, balancing citrus and sweetness. Sometimes there’s a very light green touch, as if you were smelling the fruit’s peel. The jasmine at the start is soft, supportive, and gives a soapy and soft impression. The opening is explosive, but after 3 minutes the projection drops and after 15 or 20 minutes it’s skin-level. It seems to vanish, but no; it stays skin-level for about 6 or 7 hours. Maybe you need to overapply to have a short trail on clothes and skin. Conceptually, I see it as generic; it reminded me of supermarket soaps or colognes with an orange scent. The star note is the orange, and there’s nothing else at an ambient level. In terms of quality, it’s spectacular: a sweet, real, and delicious dwarf orange with jasmine, pleasant all the time. At 8 hours on blotter (3 or 4 on skin), the orange fades and the jasmine remains as the exclusive note, soft and delicate. On skin it disappears almost by 6 or 7 hours, but on blotter or clothes it lasts days. I don’t feel the complexity of the previous gardens, which were great exotic proposals. In my opinion, it would have been a good member of Les Colognes. It could be unisex, but due to the delicacy and soapy texture of the jasmine, I feel it’s more feminine. I wasn’t surprised; it’s an orange wrapped in jasmine, an exquisite combination. Update (5/15): I received a sample. It says vegetal jasmine, kumquat, and sap (not mint). Today I tried it on a friend, and despite its simplicity, it has an addictive side; the jasmine is responsible. It’s exquisite. My friend applied almost 8 sprays and barely smelled it; it was a very personal trail despite the overapplication.
I confess this Un Jardin line leaves me divided: I love its minimalist structure, but it leaves me wanting more. It’s not an incomplete perfume, but its perfection and simplicity exhaust it. Like other Sur Le Nil fragrances, when I get excited, something holds me back. The opening is a sweet (dwarf) orange with a vegetal touch, like freshly cut plant sap, followed by milky, creamy, angelic jasmine with a hint of white musk. It’s perfect and delicious, but it doesn’t say anything to me. Medium-low trail and moderate longevity. I know from Victoria Frolova that this will be the last creation by Ellena for Hermès; I’ll go to my blog to write a full review before things change.
Reminds me of YSL’s Saharienne mixed with Lancome’s Poeme. On my skin, the longevity and trail are scarce.
The first time I smelled it, there were only a few drops left on the tester, so it stayed on the blotter and didn’t reach my skin. It lasted a long time and I loved it. I was convinced it would be my summer perfume. Yesterday I applied it generously on my skin; very good citrus opening, not the typical soapy citrus, it has a tiny spicy kick that must be the mint or something similar. After about 20 minutes, its freshness changed completely to something soft and sweet. I was already disappointed and started to remember something… something… something like baby detergent. Horror, it smells like scented Pampers diapers. In fact, I went back and showed it to the saleswoman and said: Tell me it doesn’t smell like a baby diaper? She thought for a bit and said yes, it’s true, I don’t know what brand, but yes. I’m sorry for those who like these scents, it’s not bad, it’s soft, but if you’re a man thinking of conquering a woman who already has kids… forget it. Haha.
A fragrance that pleasantly surprised me. It smells like delicious lemon, with a bitter and sweet touch at the same time. It’s one of the citrus fragrances I’ve liked the most. Good longevity; for me, it’s more feminine, more for women. It has quite a resemblance to Donna Karan’s New York perfume; they are very, very similar until about half an hour passes. Perfect for the heat and during the day. A very good fragrance.
Well, I love it. I think they’re right in calling the garden collection minimalist, but what I confess is that I combine several perfumes from this line. I have three and mix them to my liking, but when I discovered Le Jardin de Monsieur Li, I found the balance I was looking for: fresh, subtle, and a little sweet without being overwhelming.
First off, the sample box says it’s ‘an evocation of vegetal jasmine, kumquat, and sap’. That’s right, sap, not mint. At first, you clearly notice the medium-sweet citrus of the kumquat along with the jasmine, plus a chlorophyll-like green note that must be the sap. The trail is moderate using the full sample (2 ml). At 3 hours, the kumquat remains, but more so the jasmine and the green touch of the sap. By 6 hours, it’s a soft, residual musky impression, right up against the skin, and it continues like that past 12 hours, always close to the skin. This fragrance, with its three notes developing almost from the start, fulfills the promise of ‘evoking’ an Eastern garden (presumably Chinese) with fairly natural notes for non-niche standards. The trail started moderate for about three hours and then dropped to weak, feeling mostly skin-scented. It could be, as I believe all the Les Jardins perfumes are, an intimate and minimalist fragrance. Being quite linear with its three main notes, I think it’s not meant for a single heavy application during the day (like I did, using 2 ml), but rather to reapply it three or four times a day (using just a few sprays each time) to maintain or refresh the garden evocation. The fragrance is clearly for spring-summer, daytime, informal use, or places where a soft, non-invasive scent is required.
The first time I smelled it, it was obvious it came from the Hermès gardens. Perhaps the most minimalist in the collection, with a sweet-floral touch; to me, it evokes water and that summer rain that leaves a sensation of heat and humidity, a subtle breath of breeze among the plants. It didn’t just fail to disappoint me, I loved it and want it. I’ll buy more if needed when I get my bottle 🙂
First off, the sample box says it’s an evocation of vegetal jasmine, kumquat, and sap. That’s right, sap, not mint. At first, you clearly notice the medium-sweet citrus of the kumquat alongside the jasmine, plus a chlorophyll green note that must be the sap. The trail is moderate with the full sample (2 ml). At 3 hours, the kumquat remains, but the jasmine and green touch are more prominent. By 6 hours, it’s a soft, residual musk impression, skin-level, and so it stays until past 12 hours, also skin-level. It fulfills its promise of evoking an oriental garden (probably Chinese) with quite natural notes for a niche fragrance. The trail started moderate for about 3 hours and then dropped to weak, mostly skin-level. It could be, as I believe all the Les Jardins are, an intimate and minimalist fragrance. Since it’s quite linear, I don’t think it’s designed for a single abundant application (like I did), but rather to reapply three or four times a day (a few sprays each time) to maintain or refresh the garden idea. Clearly, it’s for spring-summer use, daytime, informal, or for places where you need something soft and non-invasive.
The moment you smell it, you know it’s one of Hermès’ gardens. Perhaps the most minimalist one in the collection, with a sweet-floral touch. To me, it evokes water and that summer rain that leaves a feeling of heat and humidity, like a breath of breeze among the plants. It didn’t just fail to disappoint me; I actually liked it and want it. I’ll add more details once I get my bottle 🙂
This fragrance has put me in a dilemma. First, out of the entire collection, it’s perhaps the one I’ve liked the most (they’re all beautiful). Second, I still think none of them are ‘very masculine’ to my personal taste. But there’s the dilemma: despite everything, I liked it so much that if I could buy it, I would wear it. From a spiritual point of view, it transported me to 19th-century China, that China forced to open up to trade by imperialist pressures and opium. The balance between kumquat, jasmine, and mint is great. Yes, minimalism is the word. I fell in love with this scent…
One simply ‘knows’ when they find love. When you stumble upon that ‘clean’ aroma you’ve been vainly searching for, the same thing happens. It smells like the freshness of a shower in the middle of summer, like a sunny morning. It’s a scent that becomes part of the skin and illuminates it with a soft murmur of water running between stones, flowers, and stems. The peace that only nature gives. Noble materials stand out, nothing plastic. And it has good longevity. A true pleasure that comforts the soul with its beauty.
I had read bad things and postponed the test until yesterday when I couldn’t find anything else. The surprise was positive: it smells very fresh and invigorating. Of the three notes, jasmine is the hardest to distinguish; I imagine it’s having an effect. Two drawbacks: that ‘mineral’ smell Ellena always puts in (here it’s light but noticeable) and the intensity. Although I only tested it with a spray, it seems weak; you have to spray it on clothes and hair to give it life. However, the scent holds up well for hours; it doesn’t disappear like others even if you press your nose to it.
A spectacular garden blooming in spring. Three notes stand out, but for me, it’s a complete garden: green plants reborn after winter, butterflies fluttering, and birds singing. Maybe it’s a simple scent, but very evocative of joy.
Le Jardin de Monsieur Li is unisex, though it smells more like a man to me. More than citrusy, I feel it’s green and aromatic; in the test, the green and floral dominated the citrus. It reminds me of a wild garden with morning dew. It’s pleasant and very minimalist, in the Jean-Claude Ellena style. Its evolution is almost linear. It makes me want to wear it tomorrow in spring and summer; it’s very soft and lasts about 8 hours on the skin. It won’t be my favorite from the Hermès Jardins series, but I do like it.
To me, it’s the most generic of the Jardins series, but it stands out for the quality of its notes. An intense jasmine with aquatic touches. I see it as more feminine than masculine, soft in longevity and projection. Very spring-like. Ideal for someone looking for something discreet with a clean scent.
Regarding LE JARDIN DE MONSIEUR LI, its creator Jean-Claude Ellena said he wanted to reflect ponds, jasmine, wet stones, plums, kumquats, and bamboos. The opening is citrusy, from the kumquat: a hesperidic, fruity, green, and foamy note, without the bitterness of other oranges and very soft. In this case, the kumquat resembles the calamondin, a hybrid between mandarin and kumquat, and I notice a scent closer to mandarin. From the start, there’s something sweet and floral; I recognize the jasmine (a favorite note of Ellena’s) combining with the orange until the fruit turns into a flower and the flower into a fruit. But a fresh, mentholated herbaceous note of sage also appears. The duo becomes a trio and executes a musical andante opening, soft and harmonious. This first hour is what I like most, although it doesn’t evoke a specific garden, not even a garden. It’s an abstract creation about luminosity, tranquility, and freshness, awakening coloristic impressions and states of spirit rather than a terrestrial landscape. It’s discreet but incredibly long-lasting. Unfortunately, this dry-down, which lasts the longest, is what I dislike the most. It takes on a quite artificial, even shrill musk tone. It resembles musks from cheap fragrances that don’t resonate with me. Vegetal musk isn’t listed in the notes, but the result sounds like a floral one. Over time, it even reminds me of JOVAN’s MUSK: both have jasmine, neroli, or kumquat (similar citrus), and aromatic herbs like bergamot or sage. The only difference is the musk, which in LE JARDIN DE MONSIEUR LI is included in such profusion that it drowns out the other three notes. For lovers of floral musk, it might be a finale that crowns a beautiful beginning, but in my case, it’s a scent I don’t connect with and that overwhelms me.
Adding to what I wrote before, yesterday I found a resemblance to Mousson due to that mineral-apricot scent, and it didn’t disappoint. It has wicker notes, but honestly, it still seems like a mess to me that perfumers recycle so much in fragrances that aren’t flankers.
I’m not a fan of Ellena. Over the years, he’s been labeled the ‘minimalist perfumer,’ and I have no issue with simple, calming scents for home use, especially since I’ve been craving citrus, woody, spicy, and aquatic notes lately. My problem with Ellena is that almost everything he creates these days smells medicinal and artificial, which gives me the creeps. I’m not talking about herbs or apothecary vibes, but rather pills: that sterile, synthetic white scent, like a futuristic laundromat, found in aspirin or acetaminophen. That lab or industrial shipyard air is present in this Jardin de Monsieur Li. I struggle to find anything beautiful. Yes, I catch a bitter-sweet touch of dwarf orange and some vegetal freshness that smells more like iceberg lettuce than romaine—so watery and bland. Perhaps with attention, you might see an orchard on a cloudy day in an industrial city with white clothes drying in the background. But mostly, that aromatic combination has a plastic, gummy, and forced finish, something Ellena pushes hard in this series. The images it evokes are banal and of a reality I have no desire to smell: a ugly garden, full of abandoned pots, damp not out of romance but because it’s in the backyard of a duplex in a city choked with smog. The citrus musk nuances don’t provide comfort; they feel like those homemade detergents from crisis times that smell like a thousand demons. I even smell a freshly opened pack of diapers. It was one of Ellena’s last for Hermès; seeing the absurdity of things like this, they did well to give him the boot. P.S.: First, Eau de Campagne, Terre, Kelly Caleche, Vetiver Tonka, Gentiana, Declaration, and the two Bvlgari teas are by Ellena and seem good to me, even if I don’t like some. In this case, seeing what he did at Hermès, I think the opposite: they smell like gelatin mixed with table salt.
I don’t like Ellena. Over the years, she’s been given the nickname ‘minimalist perfumer’. Honestly, I have no problem with that, nor with simple, calming perfumes you wear to relax at home, because lately I only want to use citrus, woody, spicy, and aquatic waters. My issue with Ellena is that almost all her creations from these years have a medicinal and artificial aftertaste that gives me goosebumps. And when I say medicinal, I don’t mean herbal or apothecary accords, but pills. That white, aromatic smell, very synthetic, like a futuristic dry cleaner that makes aspirin or acetaminophen. And as expected, this medical lab or industrial spaceship vibe is present in this Jardin de Monsieur Li. I struggle to evoke anything beautiful when I test it. Yes, I catch a certain sweet-bitter accord of the dwarf orange. I also sense a vegetal freshness that seems more like iceberg lettuce, so watery and bland; and perhaps, if you pay close attention, it conjures an image of an orchard on a cloudy day in an industrial city while a clothesline holds up drying white laundry. But mostly, what I feel is the typical combination of aromatic notes with a plastic, rubbery, and contrived finish that Ellena pushes hard in the Jardins series. The only images it brings to my mind are banal, of a reality I have no desire to smell. The orchard I visualize is ugly, full of pots that no one tends to. It’s damp, not out of romantic appreciation, but because it’s the backyard of a duplex in an industrial city full of smoke. And the citrus-aromatic musky nuances that invade my nose offer no comfort or calm, because they smell like a laundry detergent from those times of economic hardship that were made at home with leftover soap and oil and smelled like a thousand demons. I even smell a freshly opened package of baby diapers. It was one of Ellena’s last perfumes for Hermès, and seeing how casually she was placing creations as absurd as this, they did well to give her a passport out. PS: First, Eau de Campagne, Terre, Kelly Caleche, Vetiver Tonka, the Gentiana white water, Declaration, and the two Bvlgari teas are perfumes created by Ellena that I think are very good, even if I don’t like some of them. In this case, seeing what she did at Hermès at the end, I think the opposite: they all smell to me, whether the gardens or the waters of the wonders, like gelatin mixed with table salt.
In my opinion, out of the entire Jardins collection, this is the only one that hasn’t convinced me; it feels like just another generic perfume.
I loved this Jardin. I tried them all, and this was the one I liked the most. It’s true it doesn’t have great sillage and longevity on skin is moderate (but on clothes it lasts days!). The scent is super simple but exquisite. It’s fresh and energizing. I feel a revitalizing and very fine aroma. I clearly smell the jasmine and orange. It’s true it doesn’t evolve like others; it’s flat but constant, and when you feel a warm breeze on your face, oh! there it is, Le Jardin de Monsieur Li again, soft, subtle, but present. I consider it more suitable for women than men. It’s not for those used to powerful perfumes; this isn’t one. It’s a super pleasant and wearable scent.
I love all the Jardins; I think I’ve tried them all. This is my second favorite. A walk through a citrus garden. Summer vibes. Magnificent and simple. Pure elegance. An absolute yes.
What a beauty. Walking through Hermès’ gardens is a pleasure: so herbal, rich, oxygenated, luminous, and delicate. It represents a Japanese garden with its ponds, stones, and flora, with that delicate minimalist Eastern vibe. Just like with Petit Matin by Kurkdjian, it reminds me of the tinkling of drops falling on the grass, leaving a fine thread of very bright scent. The blend of mint with orange-derived fruits and neroli always works. They bring freshness and light, exactly what I enjoy most in green, fresh citrus fragrances that illustrate the concept of ‘cologne’.
What a treasure. Wandering through Hermès’ gardens is a pleasure: herbal, rich, oxygenated, luminous, and delicate. It represents a Japanese garden with ponds, stones, flora, and oriental minimalist delicacy. Like with Petit Matin by Kurkdjian, it reminds me of the tinkling of drops on grass, leaving a bright trail. The blend of mint with orange-derived fruits and neroli works well, adding freshness and light—exactly what I enjoy most in green, fresh citrus fragrances that illustrate the ‘cologne’ concept.
I tried it early in spring. On my skin, it opens with a huge explosion of Kumquat that fades into white flowers (very green; I don’t recognize the jasmine, it smells more like Hedione) that blend perfectly with mint. The dry-down takes a bit and smells just like Calone. Everything screams ‘moderate’: sillage, longevity, charm. I find it very pleasant, valid for spring and summer when you don’t know what to wear. However, it would never be my voluntary choice; it’s too restrained for my taste. If you like soft, pleasant, slightly feminine citrus, this is perfect for you. Pleasant: 6/10 Interesting: 4/10 Versatile: 7/10 Original: 4/10
A mystical, relaxing scent in a selected plantation ecosystem. An olfactory balance of optimistic serenity under the sun. Oriental minimalism between herbs and flowers, like the aroma flooding a fine dust path climbing yellow mountains. Effervescent and free as a mandala among stones.
Another masterpiece by Jean-Claude Ellena for Hermès. Le Jardin de Monsieur Li follows the line’s style but is the least aquatic. It shares the abstract and minimalist vibe of all the Jardins, here inspired by a Chinese garden with lots of zen energy. It’s the least complex and most linear, but no less enjoyable. It features a Kumquat orange citrus accord with a special duality, unlike the house’s usual citrus. Paired with bergamot, it’s revitalizing and slightly sweet, tied to a white jasmine that is neat and relaxed, with a very notable chlorophyll green focus thanks to natural sap notes—nothing experimental, immensely natural and serene. All grounded by a subtle musk base. No single note stands out; they all dance in unison in an imaginary garden, peaceful and frozen in time during a long winter, waking up in spring with its jasmines, Kumquat groves, flexible bamboo trunks, and a small pond with ancient carp in absolute calm.
Another wonderful work by Jean-Claude Ellena at Hermès, Le Jardin de Monsieur Li is consistent with the line but has less aquatic character. It shares the abstract and minimalist nature of all the gardens, inspired by a Chinese garden with zen energy. It’s the least complex and most linear of the collection, but no less enjoyable. It has a citrus accord of dwarf kumquat orange with duality, not like the usual citrus from the house (neither too ripe nor extremely green). Accompanied by bergamot, it has a citrus focus, revitalizing and slightly sweet, tied to the jasmine. This flower is white, neat, and relaxed, with a chlorophyll green focus noticeable through green notes like natural sap, immensely natural and serene. All this with a subtle musk base. No single note stands out; all complement each other and dance in unison in an imaginary garden, tranquil, frozen in time during a winter and awakening in spring, where the jasmines bloom, the kumquat orange trees flourish, and bamboo trunks surround a small pond with millennia-old carp in absolute calm.
A living perfume with an enveloping evolution and an exquisite scent. I enjoy it in summer after the beach or a boat ride… Highly recommended. Great gift.
A hidden jasmine behind slight bitterness. Almost aquatic, with that very realistic green of cut stems. Sometimes a bit ozonic. If it were aphids, I’d drool. As a human, I’d probably drool a little too.
From the Jardin collection, this is the cheeriest of them all. A sublime composition. At first, I thought it was more feminine, but once she put it on, wow! I wear it when I need a boost. It works better during the day and afternoon than at night. The longevity is good. Maybe because of its simplicity it seems pricey, but try it and see how special it is.
My aunt absolutely loves this perfume; she just got it and it smells deliciously rich, very floral and soft.