A belated, uncertain review of Temple

When I reviewed Kaffir by Anya's Garden back in December, I said I'd review her other new scent, Temple, as soon as I decided what I thought of it. What I've decided is that I could go on thinking about it for the rest of my sniffing existence and never come to any firm opinion. I just can't pass a definitive judgment on this baby, but after much testing I do have a few impressions to share.

First of all, Temple is the most idiosyncratic of Anya's scents, which is to say that it is a seriously odd duck. All Anya's perfumes are distinctive--and I mean that in the best possible way--but Temple seems truly unique. I've sampled enough perfumes that I never meet a new one that doesn't remind me of one I already know. Not so with Temple. It has fleeting moments that bring to mind everything from Hermes Eau d'Orange Verte to Dzing!, but its overall character is sui generis.

The opening actually seems quite conventional: a pretty, "don't-worry-be-happy" orange note. It's a very pure, sweet orange--no fizz, no bite, no lurking pungency. It lasts only a moment on my skin, however, lulling me into an easy, open frame of mind before I'm suddenly ushered into a realm of olfactory weirdness. This is the heart of Temple. It's not a bad place--on the contrary, sometimes it's quite alluring, filled with a complex melange of herbaceous, floral and spicy notes reminiscent of an herbal apothecary. Other times, unfortunately, it reminds me more of Indian takeout. I get pushy cumin, faintly musty coriander and a fatty sour-bitter note that has something in common with lime pickle--all pretty far afield from the official notes, but that's what I perceive. I never know from one wearing to the next which way Temple will go for me, and while I'm always happy to smell like an herbalist's, I am only occasionally in the mood to waft the odor of a curry shop--and when I'm not, I'm really not. I have had to resort to scrubbing the perfume off at this stage a time or two, I'm sorry to say.

It's a shame that the middle notes of Temple are so troublesome for me, because the base, with its combination of an incredibly smooth oud and earthy notes, is unfailingly beautiful. I have never been an oud fan. There's been something unbearably heavy and hot about it in all my previous encounters, but Temple's oud is mellower, lighter, almost pretty. There's a subtle, dry, faintly sweet note underneath the wood, which I assume is the "earth tincture" listed in the notes. It is indeed earthy, but not in a literal, Demeter Dirt sort of way. It's more of a soft background for the oud than a scent with a distinct character of its own. This accord seems to embody most clearly the healing, meditative character Anya says she was working toward. It has a remarkable calming, uplifting effect. If my whole life smelled like this, I'd be a far more blissful person.

I'm not sure I'd ever anoint myself with Temple before venturing out into the wild world. It's not a perfume for adventure, though it is an adventurous perfume. Leaving aside the curry house moments (which are, I suspect, down to the wild hormone swings of middle age), Temple is a scent I'll hold in reserve for those moments when I'm alone, and want a fragrance that offers peace with a bit of challenge.





Notes per Anya's Garden--Top notes: distilled orange juice, borneol crystals. Middle notes: aglaia flower, cassia, Ayurvedic herbs and spices. Base notes: sustainable Laotian and Vietnamese Oud agarwood, earth tincture

Maharashtrian Lady, Raja Ravi Varma (1848-1906). Image via Wikimedia Commons.