It’s been over two months since I started this newsletter but it’s taken me this long to get around to writing a second post! Thankfully, the summer has given me a bit more breathing (inhaling?) room to think and write about scents. I’ve had so many ideas on the backburner this entire time, including ostensibly low-lift topics like “what I’ve been wearing for the last week/month,” but what really got me back in gear was an absolutely delightful package from Lucy Burrows, one of my favourite perfume writers (you may know her as @cloudcoverrr on IG). Along with a lovely handwritten note, she provided samples of a fantastic bunch of scents (including a few that I didn’t even request), some of which are hard to come by, like Pearfat’s Nosegrab and the recent summer-themed “Mediterranean edition” of Diptyque’s Vinaigre de Toilette, both of which were limited and have sold out.
The thrill of sampling this haul inspired me to get back to posting on main and I’ve already reviewed three of these on my IG account, including the Diptyque Vinaigre (which isn’t at all vinegary, it turns out—Audrey Robinowitz confirmed that they took out the actual vinegar for this edition, which is apparently just a water-based perfume). The two that I was most excited about, however, were the 2025 releases from Chicago’s Clue: Dandelion Butter and Like Mesh.
Since their debut in 2023, Clue has consistently been one of the most inventive and original independent perfume brands around: everything they do feels fully intentional and considered, from the scent concepts and names to the product design, marketing, and packaging. They are the kind of outfit that approaches everything they do as an art project—which is why I wanted to accompany my reviews with some contemporary art photos that felt aesthetically complementary—even though I think Clue’s sensibility isn’t really “white cube” art: they’re quirky and cute but not twee, tasteful but unpretentious, experimental but accessible. Most importantly, Laura Oberwetter is just an incredible perfumer who consistently comes up with amazingly photorealistic accords for surprising scent concepts: “jasmine tea brewed with ocean water” (The Point, 2024), or “dust on a hot lightbulb, baking the yellowed pages of a book” (Warm Bulb, 2023), anyone?
So, needless to say, I was very excited for the recent release of Dandelion Butter, which the brand teased with the image of a country billboard reading “Do You Like Butter?” My anticipation continued to mount as Clue shared gorgeous photos of dandelions and butter sculptures, and reports trickled out from release parties showing the genius packaging, which wraps the box with paper like a block of actual butter.
I am a huge sucker for green and grassy scents in general, so even though I’m a bit more wary about lactonic or gourmand notes, Clue is so good at magic tricks with unusual accords that I couldn’t wait to see how Laura Oberwetter would butter up these dandelions. (I also thought this might be an interesting example of the “savoury gourmand” category that people have been talking about a lot). I even considered blind-buying a bottle, which I never do! I’m committed to sampling first, though—and I could have ordered a vial from Luckyscent, but I was already getting some things from Lucy and I knew she had this one, so I patiently waited for her package to arrive.

And??? The first spray was everything I could have hoped. It was so grassy I was immediately face down in an overgrown lawn, surrounded by yellow flowers and a soft-focus haze of sweetness that sets it apart from some of my other favourite perfumes in this wheelhouse (especially Perfumer H’s Dandelion, which has a far sharper greenness that’s tart and citric, almost minty). A lot of people have described Dandelion Butter as “nostalgic” and the opening 100% encapsulates the sun-dazed feeling of childhood’s endless, carefree summer days. This was exactly what I had been dreaming of. Part of the initial sweetness also evokes the milkiness of dandelion sap, but I spent a good while wondering when the butter would come in—and then when it did, it was really not what I expected!
Rather than a fatty lactonic note (like the butter in Hilde Soliani’s Buon Pranzo, for instance), I got a creamy, toasted smell that I associate with sandalwood. Now, I’ve heard that sandalwood can sometimes give “buttered popcorn” (people say this about Sana Jardin’s Sandalwood Temple) and I do find it kind of salty/savory here, but it just doesn’t feel that much like butter to me—which is a bummer because the “Dandelion” part of Dandelion Butter is so beautifully realistic.
The sandalwoody musk that it dries down into (on my skin, anyway) is fine and nice but a little cloying—it lacks the thrill of surprise that I generally expect from Clue. Even though I adore the opening (and it lasts a decent while for such green notes, I’d say 40-60 minutes), I doubt I’ll want to wear it very often when I know I’ll be spending another 3-4 hours after that with a dry down that I don’t love. It’s still a fun and interesting perfume (and much beloved by others, I have to say, so be sure to try it yourself!) but it’s not my fave of theirs.
But…there is another.
Like Mesh was the first (and so far, only) entry in Clue’s “Slipper” series of limited releases. In the brand’s words, “Slipper is home to the abstract remnants of our experimentation—artifacts of our creative process, excavated fleetingly and without warning.” These releases, I assume, will “slip” out whenever Clue wants them to, and this one in particular required fans to sleuth out a secret link on the brand’s website in order to buy a bottle—and only 20 were sold! I wasn’t able to solve this riddle, but thankfully Lucy was and she was willing to share the reward. (Thanks again, friend!)
I love that Laura Oberwetter describes Like Mesh as “formulated entirely in a dream,” both because it’s my dream neroli scent (the only note is “too much neroli, narrowly caught in a wide-woven sieve”) and because it feels so unreal. Neroli has many facets—green, citrus, white floral—but Like Mesh doesn’t smell like fruit, plants, or flowers. It’s a concentrated ribbon of neon light glowing in the dark. It transmutes the idea of citric floral greenness into an interlaced web of laser-bright threads, pulsing with vivid energy. It’s sharp, slightly bitter, almost metallic, but it’s not at all harsh—it’s like pure sunshine distilled into a narrow beam, a feeling of joy vibrating at an impossible frequency.
Like Mesh does for neroli what Jorum’s Boswellia Scotia does for frankincense: it intensifies the material until it becomes immaterial, a light that’s too bright to look at. Like a dream, this perfume fades quickly, but it leaves an afterimage, phosphenes dancing behind your eyelids.
Ive got clue samples coming and Im so excited! Its painfully hard to source in the UK. Like Mesh sounds like a dream and I love Boswelia Scotia. Didnt know they did limited releases!