Back in the early aughts, when a lot of dudes were still rocking whatever designer juice was sitting on the department-store counter, Byredo felt like a total reset. Bringing niche perfumery, luxury sensibilities, and indie cool to a much wider crowd, its fragrances smelled unlike much else out there, all housed in a sleek, design-conscious universe.
Since 2006, it’s led the modern niche fragrance boom, and many of its colognes have consistently held a spot in my scent rotation. I still swear by Gypsy Water and its hazy, incense-y pull, the crisp, rose-y Super Cedar, the ethereal Mojave Ghost, and the exuberant Bal d’Afrique. (All cult classics now.) The house also has deep cuts beyond the hits. Oud Immortel, an oud-and-patchouli blend, is not for the novice, but it’s wildly transportive, while the floral, fresh Blanche is an approachable daily driver.
If there’s any undercurrent running throughout scents, to my nose, Byredo has always had this airy, almost incense-like quality, often mixed with a faint musky undertone. The fragrances can vary wildly, but even the richer fumes retain a certain lightness. Skin scents may be all the rage now, but Byredo made that subtlety part of its DNA long before “skin scent” became a fragrance-world buzzword.
Which brings us to Future Memories. The brand’s latest scent, which I’ve been wearing for the past month, is a gorgeous “gourmand” (a fragrance term for somewhat edible-smelling scents) that isn’t really a gourmand, but more a verdant, slightly sweet, liquor-laced, hazy dreamscape. Quentin Bisch, the nose here, is one of my favorite current perfumers, and a master of beautifully layered, woody scents. Yet even with that depth, FM still feels unmistakably Byredo, with musky airiness underneath and layers of seemingly contrasting notes. That interplay between richness and restraint is a big part of what makes it so good.
Galbanum, blackcurrant, and aldehydes give the opening a green, sweet brightness, while rich orris butter and orange blossom bring boozy, smoky warmth over a base of one of my favorite notes: labdanum, with its resinous, almost church-like quality. And then there’s the vanilla. It’s trending right now, but Byredo’s is not the cloying, cupcake variety. Here, the vanilla is chic and sultry.
For all that’s going on, Future Memories also wears surprisingly easily amidst all that moodiness which I vibe with. It has plenty of warmth without the weight: I’d wear it on a date night, to dinner downtown, an indie-rock show, or to an art opening, but it’s understated enough for the office, too. If you dress head-to-toe in black, well, even better.


