MoonDance, Anya's Garden

There are two things you should know about me before you read this review:

1) I am a longtime fan of Anya’s Garden perfumes; and

2) I’ve always loved white florals. Instead of outgrowing them, I'm finding them even more addictive as I age.

There—now that I’ve declared my biases, let’s get on to the business of reviewing Anya's lovely paean to the tuberose, MoonDance.

MoonDance opens with a rush of sweet, cool violets. They don’t last long, but why should they? Violets in the wild are always a brief pleasure. The next note mystified me for a moment. It was so familiar, so comforting. I loved it, but couldn’t place it until I cheated and looked at the notes: chamomile! I love that mellow, herbal fragrance. I keep EO of chamomile in my medicine cabinet, so I can put a few drops in my bath. The chamomile in MoonDance is soft, fruity and slightly sweet, without the piney quality chamomile sometimes has.

The tuberose makes its entrance with remarkable modesty and delicacy. This has got to be the quietest tuberose I’ve ever encountered. I don’t know what “French process” means, but whatever it is, I’m in favor of it. Although I love a brazen tuberose, it can start to wear on the nerves after a while. The tuberose in MoonDance is like the perfect roommate—calm and clean, but still lively company. I can just catch the edge of the jasmine Anya lists, but otherwise the heart of MoonDance seems to be all tuberose to me.

The base is subtle and dry, mostly an orris experience. It’s essentially that “eau de baby’s scalp” smell, which I love in tiny doses. It’s horribly overdone in a lot of commercial scents—did someone say Philosophy?—but in Moondance it’s just a pleasing aura of warm, cuddly animal. And speaking of animals, the notes list includes “South African Hyrax.” Would that be this substance, from this critter? I hope Anya will chime in and tell us.

If I have one complaint about MoonDance, it’s that I wish it were just a tad less ethereal, a tiny bit more tenacious. Mind you, that complaint is coming from someone who routinely douses herself in some notoriously loud perfumes, so I suspect my quibble won’t be a common one. And anyway, those violets in the top are so lovely, it’s a pleasure to be able to refresh the scent after a couple of hours.

Anya’s other new (and very different) tuberose creation, StarFlower, will be reviewed in an upcoming post. Many thanks to Anya for the review samples, and to the Tate Collection for the charming painting by William Blake: Oberon, Titania and Puck, with Fairies Dancing, c.1786.