Gemini Renaissance

The personal renaissance of a gemini, unrelated to the AI model.

Ffern or Foe?

I’ve always been easily seduced by perfumery. Perfumery is actually an oversimplification. Fragrance production is an alchemy. There is artistry in conveying the essence of a botanical, let alone bottling the genie of a season, an experience, a fantasy. A good fragrance can do more than evoke, transport, and attract. It possesses.

Belle de Nuit by Fragonard popped my cherry when I was 13. Fleur de Figuier by Roger & Gallet circa 2015 was my big flirtation, albeit an economical one. The original Samsara by Guerlain is the ardent, quixotic lover from my past. Each is a cast member in my Cirque du Soleil, and unfortunately, only one hasn’t had their recipe fundamentally altered.

And, no, none of this is snobbery! What is so snobby about wanting to engage the senses? Wanting to smell good? Wanting to be told you smell good? Nothing. And if you disagree, get the ffern outta here!

Which brings me to Ffern, the brand that emerged out of nowhere a couple of years ago and began bombarding my social media feed with advertisements. I came to know them when I started to watch their meticulously curated videos, first of a man with a flamboyant ascot on his vintage bicycle riding through the Tuscan countryside. “What the fuck is this?” I thought. By the following winter, they had me again: two figure skaters performing what appears to be a mating dance in a heavenly mountainous setting. I still couldn’t fully grasp what exactly this brand was trying to sell me. But I could tell this was a natural beauty they were trying to trap in a bottle.

And if, like me, you’re wondering whether their name is a typo that is too late to change: the double f is a nod to ancient Welsh. Hhow aabout tthat?

This Spring, I decided to bite the bullet and purchase a Ffern original. Here’s what I learned:

  1. Exclusivity is the name of the game. Unlike most popular fragrances, to receive a Ffern, you must sign up to be “added to the ledger”. Now, I don’t know if this is a marketing ploy, but signing up doesn’t always guarantee a spot for a perfume. The ledger serves as both a sign-up and subscription. You pay $125, which you’re charged each time a seasonal perfume is sent to you (four times a year).
  2. Their ethos is sustainability. Ffern prides itself in being a keeper of the natural. They vow to protect the artisanal nature of perfume making, give a significant spotlight to artists, support British folk arts and traditions through their foundation, and generally craft their perfumes from seasonal ingredients. Importantly, the ledger is also meant to inform them of the quantities to produce, so as to avoid waste in their production process.
  3. Their marketing is king. Their website and packaging are not only sleek, they’ve put intention and thought into the process of delivering their perfume. Each fragrance is released seasonally and arrives on either the solstice or equinox so you can welcome the season with an accompanying scent. Don’t like it? Fine! The package arrives with a sample for you to try. If the fragrance isn’t for you, it can remain sealed and you can easily return it for a refund. And their “cinema” that I mentioned earlier? Well, since their Winter 25 fragrance, they’ve begun featuring celebrities like Ruth Wilson and Claire Foy in their seasonal campaigns, exploring fresh new ways to incorporate storytelling into their marketing.
  4. They’re not meant to last. Artificial fragrances nowadays are meant to last, invading the air around us, lingering and suffocating innocent bystanders. They’re meant to be fruity, citrusy, or musky chemical warfare. A Ffern, on the other hand, is meant to be installation art. A Christo and Jeanne-Claude, if you will. Ffern is an exercise in ephemera.

I confess that I am late to the game. My first fragrance from Ffern was Spring 26, a herbaceous delight that was far too crisp and spry to pass up. If you surf through Reddit forums, you’ll find strong opinions for and against, with criticism mostly centering on their lack of inventiveness from season to season (what some described as essentially the same scent). We’ll see about that in my follow-up teeny review.

But as for now? I’ve never been more excited for a summer solstice.

Leave a comment