Cala
Bravanariz (2018)

Bravanariz is Juniper Ridge on steroids, a super-hyped Spanish version of the American brand. Not so much perfumery as communing with nature, proudly going beyond the industry's regulations to bring you the real ale of the fragrance world.

You know the pitch: forsaking all petrochemicals and horrid synthetics, we don our hiking boots and head for the wild mountains with a couple of jam jars, a few tin cans and a bit of lab glassware to make it look convincing, returning with the very essence of mother nature, all without harming a single microbe.

Except Bravanariz outshines even Juniper Ridge with their passion and inspiration. “Our bottles not only contain the essence of a place but all the experiences lived in it”, they explain. How amazing, and it's all put together by honest folk who hate technology but love plants. It sounds so appealing that you want to buy everything straight away. But hang on, what does their stuff actually smell like? ….

Well that's a different story. Judging by this particular product they probably smell like the amateur concoctions they are. Cala is rather a crude fennel odour which does improve with time, but that's probably because it disappears with time.

However, don't dismiss this brand out of hand. A few of their rarer offerings are excellent, original scents. Made for them, possibly, by a firm that knows what it's doing. Stil never mind that, if you find one you like just enjoy it alongside the advertising and take no notice of cynical people like me.

Of their wild, IFRA-noncompliant "Olfactory Digressions", I would single out FUM, a very interesting and compelling scent recalling old wooden boats and railway stations during the steam era. There is also Pi, a pine variant suggestive of machine rooms with electric motors and a touch of WD40 in the air. Pi is an ultra volatile topnote which is gone almost as soon as it hits the smelling strip.

My above reservations aside, I take my hat off to any firm with the guts to market such singular fragrances.