SOTD by u/RedMosquitoMM

LG23-21: Fougère Friday

• Brush: Farvour Turn Craft 26mm v.6 Odin's Beard
• Razor: Blutt Rasur BR-1 0.99
• Blade: Astra SP (24)
• Lather: Wholly Kaw - Fern Concerto Menthol - Shaving Soap
• Post Shave: Stirling Soap Co. - Varen - Aftershave
• Fragrance: Providence Perfume Co. - Heart of Darkness
• Passes: WTG, XTG
• Coffee: West Java. Cijapati, Garut - v: Typica. Tim Tim. Catimor - p: Triple picked. Washed.
• Music: Hiroshi Yoshimura - Green
• LG Tags: #FOF

Fern emerald green
menthol kiss blows cooling wind
over moss and hay

Today is all about that most omnipresent of wet shaving scents, the fougère. From fresh to dank, herbaceous to fruity, dirty to soapy, and vaporous to beastmode, our beloved ferns take many forms. They scent our European hard soaps; they scent our artisan sets; they scent half the perfumes on the shelf. I said it a few days ago and I'll say it again: one cannot have too many fougères.

My shave explored just a glimpse of the genre's impressive range, moving in sequence from a brisk and bright green soap, to a sweet and archetypal splash, to a potent fragrance that growls louder than the most formidable fougères around.

Wholly Kaw's Fern Concerto Menthol is an unusual shave soap. Outside of drugstore splashes, it's difficult to find fougères that include menthol at all, let alone to the degree this one does. Even the matching Fern Concerto aftershaves aren't mentholated. Fern Concerto Menthol includes enough menthyl lactate to justify calling it out in the name; the scent is noticeable. But it doesn't clash. An environmental odors registry describes menthyl lactate's "odor characteristic" as tobacco, chamomile, and mint, and while I can't differentiate it from traditional menthol, those notes are a natural fit among the blend of herbs and florals used in this scent. I'm hesitant to describe Fern Concerto Menthol in more specific terms, because I mostly smell the outlines of a bright green fougère colored in by a bunch of menthol. It's a refreshing combination.

Moving from fresh and clean to a denser, rich fougère, I splashed on Stirling's Varen. This "powerful blend" is so packed with oakmoss that Stirling warns the pregnant and epileptic to avoid it; the other notes are bold to match. Every time I use this scent I'm surprised by just how thickly green it is, like fresh cut grass clinging to your clothes, weeds just ripped from the ground and staining your hands, or the city leaf and yard waste collection before it's started to compost. (I only use the bar soap in the summer because it makes the whole bathroom smell like Varen.) Varen is also sweeter than the notes would suggest, featuring a lovely floral accord of geranium and lavender that makes it feel vintage and counters the base's strength. It's a must-try Stirling original.

I finished my fougère progression with Heart of Darkness, an example of the genre at it's most burly, complex, and robust. This "fearsome fougère" has it all: a woody lavender-tonka accord featuring two kinds of moss; interplay of spice and incense; an unexpected shot of dark-roasted espresso. Today I'm overwhelmed by the cedar—sharp, earthy, and towering in breadth and scope. It combines seamlessly with the coffee in a way that forces synesthesia; I smell ruddy wood chips, freshly mulched, layered in shades of garnet, carmine, maroon, and rusty brown. (Like the juice in the bottle.) In that way, Heart of Darkness parallels Varen from a completely different spectrum. It's a fougère that forgoes waves of green foliage in favor of a dense forest's loamy floor.

**LG23-21: Fougère Friday**

- **Brush:** Farvour Turn Craft 26mm v.6 Odin's Beard
- **Razor:** Blutt Rasur BR-1 0.99
- **Blade:** Astra SP (24)
- **Lather:** Wholly Kaw - Fern Concerto Menthol - Shaving Soap
- **Post Shave:** Stirling Soap Co. - Varen - Aftershave
- **Fragrance:** Providence Perfume Co. - Heart of Darkness
- **Passes:** WTG, XTG
- **Coffee:** West Java. Cijapati, Garut - v: Typica. Tim Tim. Catimor - p: Triple picked. Washed.
- **Music:** Hiroshi Yoshimura - *Green*
- **LG Tags:** `#FOF`

*Fern emerald green
menthol kiss blows cooling wind
over moss and hay*

Today is all about that most omnipresent of wet shaving scents, the fougère. From fresh to dank, herbaceous to fruity, dirty to soapy, and vaporous to beastmode, our beloved ferns take many forms. They scent our European hard soaps; they scent our artisan sets; they scent half the perfumes on the shelf. I said it a few days ago and I'll say it again: one cannot have too many fougères.

My shave explored just a glimpse of the genre's impressive range, moving in sequence from a brisk and bright green soap, to a sweet and archetypal splash, to a potent fragrance that growls louder than the most formidable fougères around.

Wholly Kaw's Fern Concerto Menthol is an unusual shave soap. Outside of drugstore splashes, it's difficult to find fougères that include menthol at all, let alone to the degree this one does. Even the matching Fern Concerto aftershaves aren't mentholated. Fern Concerto Menthol includes enough menthyl lactate to justify calling it out in the name; the scent is noticeable. But it doesn't clash. An environmental odors registry describes menthyl lactate's "odor characteristic" as tobacco, chamomile, and mint, and while I can't differentiate it from traditional menthol, those notes are a natural fit among [the blend of herbs and florals](https://whollykaw.com/product/shaving-soap-fern-concerto-mentholated/) used in this scent. I'm hesitant to describe Fern Concerto Menthol in more specific terms, because I mostly smell the outlines of a bright green fougère colored in by a bunch of menthol. It's a refreshing combination.

Moving from fresh and clean to a denser, rich fougère, I splashed on Stirling's Varen. This "powerful blend" is so packed with oakmoss that Stirling warns the pregnant and epileptic to avoid it; the other notes are bold to match. Every time I use this scent I'm surprised by just how thickly *green* it is, like fresh cut grass clinging to your clothes, weeds just ripped from the ground and staining your hands, or the city leaf and yard waste collection before it's started to compost. (I only use the bar soap in the summer because it makes the whole bathroom smell like Varen.) Varen is also sweeter than the notes would suggest, featuring a lovely floral accord of geranium and lavender that makes it feel vintage and counters the base's strength. It's a must-try Stirling original.

I finished my fougère progression with Heart of Darkness, an example of the genre at it's most burly, complex, and robust. This "fearsome fougère" has it all: a woody lavender-tonka accord featuring two kinds of moss; interplay of spice and incense; an unexpected shot of dark-roasted espresso. Today I'm overwhelmed by the cedar—sharp, earthy, and towering in breadth and scope. It combines seamlessly with the coffee in a way that forces synesthesia; I smell ruddy wood chips, freshly mulched, layered in shades of garnet, carmine, maroon, and rusty brown. (Like the juice in the bottle.) In that way, Heart of Darkness parallels Varen from a completely different spectrum. It's a fougère that forgoes waves of green foliage in favor of a dense forest's loamy floor.