Sirenide is based on a reimagined version of the Scottish myth of the Selkies. It opens with a sting of poison rendered in bitter almond and aniseed, which anoints a second skin of iris, aquatic florals and a plastic-pinseal accord. The irresistible pull of briny-sweet ambergris drags the florals and almond with it into the depths, creating an indelible drydown. Orkney, an archipelago located to the north of Scotland, plays host to the inspiration of this fragrance. According to ancient Orkney myth, shapeshifting creatures – Selkies – inhabit the bodies of seals and, coming out of the water, shed their skin to walk among the human population. Often in these stories the selkie’s skin is found and hidden by local men, and they are forced to marry their human captor. In Beaufort's rendering of this tale, however, the selkie takes the upper hand… horrified that he has tanned her precious skin, the selkie poisons her captor, reclaiming the leather and returning finally to the tumbling sea. A suitably formidable fragrance: powerful and haunting, with triplicate aspects of ‘skins’ developing on your own. PVC melds with pinseal and an unnerving bitter almond note… water flowers blossom and die, returning to the water. Created by Euan McCall, it features top notes of blue flag iris, water hawthorn, bitter almond and aniseed; middle notes of water lily and pink lotus; and base notes of ambergris, Atlas cedar, woodruff and pinseal. Sirenide is an eau de parfum, edp.
BEAUFORT LONDON SIRENIDE REVIEWS
Fragrantica: "I bought Sirenide on impulse. To be honest, a rare blind purchase for me, especially since I usually avoid marine-themed fragrances. But intuition called and... I followed. I expected a modern reinterpretation of the aquatic florals of the early 2000s, something reminiscent of older Kenzo or Issey Miyake creations: that laconic melancholy of lotus, still air, inner peace. What I received was entirely different and so much more. It was love at first breath, the kind of connection with a scent that makes you immediately know: this is mine. The perfume opens with a strong almond note. It is sweet and welcoming at first, but quickly turns bitter, perhaps mixing with anise, which literally evokes associations with cyanide. Imagine cracking a cherry pit between your teeth, that addictive yet threatening aroma (given the darkened and romanticised image of cyanide in culture). Next comes the heart: water flowers, tender and wet, with a subtle white-floral character. I catch nuances of orange blossom in this accord, but I can easily believe a water lily might smell like that. Fragile and alive floral scent. And then the floral heart meets the breath of the sea... and oh, I do love the sea here! It is not the ozonic kind found in typical marine perfumes, but the smell of a northern coast with melting snow, damp air and just a slight drop of salt. The base, for me, is a soft leather accord blended with something synthetic yet intriguing. I suppose this is what was meant to be plastic, but I sense the smell of latex, and it contrasts (yes, beautifully!) with the organic and fluid heart. Purity against artifice, tenderness opposed to danger, this is what Sirenide’s beauty is for me. Some perfumes comfort you, wrapping you in blissful warmth. Sirenide does the opposite. It stirs the soul, especially when you are living through a time of contradictory emotions. Soul scent. Mine."
Fragrantica: "The Anthropocene Curse - Beaufort doesn’t simply revive the selkie myth — it drags it into the present and lets it speak the language of the Anthropocene. The plastic note isn’t a conceptual flourish. In the old tales, humans steal the selkies’ seal-skins; without that aquatic layer, they’re stranded on land, trapped in a form that isn’t theirs. Today, those stolen skins have been replaced by PVC: it’s what we’ve handed back to nature in exchange for what belonged to her. In Sirenide, the selkies poison humans in revenge. Now, revenge is redundant — we’ve poisoned ourselves. We stripped nature of its riches and paid her back with trash and synthetics, only to realise that, being part of her, the toxin loops through us too. The fragrance stages this transformation through three “skins”: a leather skin, earthy and animalic, a human skin, salty and water-soaked, and an alien skin: plastic. It’s our new coating — the quiet metamorphosis of a plasticised evolution. The siren-nature is compromised, but so are we. Every wound dealt to her comes back as a curse to us. From a technical angle, the perfume blends leather notes with a tonka–star anise–licorice accord that feels both sweet and venomous. A powdery structure evokes the sea without using algae: it smells of sand, shell, and dried saltwater. The plastic element surfaces with the exact scent of a wet inflatable beach mattress. As it moves into the heart and dry-down, lotus adds a soft, soapy, almond-tinged floral quality that rounds and gentles the composition. The base ultimately settles into a sweet-saline, clean accord reminiscent of fabric softener, with strong echoes of: Villa Lympia by Oriza L. Legrand and A Quiet Place by Yankee Candle. Perhaps a good ending. A fragrance that startles at first, but then grips you so deeply you can’t do without it."
Fragrantica: "As a big fan of this house I was very keen to pick this up as soon as it launched. Story telling is always such a strength of Beaufort and this fragrance is no exception. Like the others in this new line the scent is, to me, more nuanced than some of their others. Less streets of London, Victorian gothic (rake and ruin or terror and magnificence for example) and abit more haunting. I would describe this scent as poisonous, capturing the feel of a mysterious woman lacing a man’s meal with cyanide. There is something rough and challenging here, it’s dark and unsettling whilst remaining cold. Not as green as fathom V, not as damp and cold as cape wrath, totally unique. Strong spice, almost like black licorice and seawater turned into a strangely wet musk. Every fragrance from this house captures a feeling of nostalgia for a dark time and place I haven’t been to but can see so clearly in my mind."
Fragrantica: "The opening is wow-inducing for sure - the peculiar combination of metallic almond, dense aquatic florals and plastic is like nothing I've smelled before. It's unsettling and uncomfortable, yet hypnotizing. The almonds start to dissipate during the drydown and that's when the fragrance start to become monothematic and loses its spark. The whole scaffold of the fragrance is build around huge overdose of Nympheal - the water lily molecule with watermelon undertones that is one of the longer lasting muguet materials. It's present from start to finish, and that's almost all I can smell in later hours. Makes the deep drydown smell similar to the deep drydown of LV Meteore. I wish it was tad bit more complex during that stage, but I still find it unique and different."
Fragrantica: "Strange and otherworldly… truly unique. An almond storm and lotus; that’s what greets me at first; soon drifting into plastic baby-doll head, inflatable pool toy, and a whimsical trace of anise. It’s bizarre and captivating at the same time. The drydown turns into a leathery plastic softened by a lightly salty grey ambergris, rounded with almond and a whisper of baby powder. The pairing of a sheer, mineral-leaning amber and dry cedar reminded me of the backbone of Parisian Musc. Despite the associations in its name, this is not aquatic, watery, or marine; it’s almond-forward with a soft, almost tonka-like sweetness, making it feel far more suited to autumn and winter wear. Selkies: seal-skinned shapeshifters. A Selkie poisoning her captor to escape an unwanted marriage and vanish back into the sea. This perfume tries to capture that moment; and I think it succeeds. The “leather” here is latex through a modern lens, while the almond, anise, and water-flowers conjure an atmosphere that feels both otherworldly and storybook-like. I don’t see this appealing to the masses; it smells like a narrative distilled into scent, and the combination is unusual and unconventional in the best way. What stunned me most is how it carries echoes of my two lifelong signature scents; a discovery that felt both unexpected and deeply satisfying. I won’t name them, so as not to overshadow the uniqueness of this beautiful creation. I love how it feels both nostalgic and quietly ethereal, with a faint sense of drifting in a void. Easily one of the strangest, most delightfully weird bottles in my entire collection."
Fragrantica: "This has a strong long-lasting and forward almond scent. Perfect for when you crave a strong almond scent (so many scents maybe tease with just a touch of almond?) or if you generally love it. I think it's gorgeous in the gourmand direction without being sweet and also smells a bit dangerous. Other almond scents I'm familiar with are Fucking Fabulous by Tom Ford, Tracy by Ellen Tracy, the Zara scent MSK 004/NTL and Burberry Brit. The strong almond scent goes perfect with cyanide associations ("sirenide") since almonds contain cyanide and cyanide is supposed to smell like bitter almonds / marzipan."
