Jo's Scent Notes: Perfumer H Saddle

Don’t get me wrong. I have one of the best jobs in the world, sniffing out new perfumes in the line of duty, and over the space of each year being gifted dozens and dozens of them by brands, keen to elicit my opinion. (I’ve been writing about perfume since 1991, and since 2014 have edited The Scented Letter magazine, which you can sign up to, here.)

File under: very, very lucky. But while I do indeed fall for many of those fragrances, in some cases adding them to what is already quite an extensive perfume wardrobe, there is something extra special about bottles that I am given by loved ones. (Or indeed, which I buy myself.) Suddenly, I go from being objective about the fragrance and seeing/smelling it through the lens of my critical powers to being subjective, creating memories and moods around it that just aren’t the same when you’re ‘on the outside, looking in’ – a journalist’s default mode.

Top of my ‘Dear Santa’ list for 2025, handed to my darling husband (who requires some steering towards great gifts, having several times bestowed on me practical items like brooms and even loo seats), was a bottle of Perfumer H Saddle. I smelled it in Lyn Harris’s Clifford Street boutique, Perfumer H (see also: Nigel Slater’s ‘Feast’ candle review, from a couple of months ago, here), and found myself making regular detours whenever I found myself in Mayfair to spray it again. And again. And again.

If you ask nicely, and are properly interested, they’re great at giving little sample vials of some of the permanent collection of perfumes – and having dabbed my way through a couple of these, I knew that by hook or by crook, I needed to get my hands on a bottle of Saddle. (Perfumer H actually offer a sample service of £15 for three 2ml bottles – here – which is a fantastic way to try something you like the sound of, if you don’t live within sniffing distance.)

I never believe in buying a fragrance after I’ve sprayed it just once. I’ll go back, time and again, till I’m sure, whether that means a department store or a boutique like Lyn’s. Certainly, one sniff is enough to tell you whether you don’t like something – I don’t think you can ever get past a bad first impression. Despite a shift from mainstream brands towards more ‘linear’ scents – which basically translates as: what you smell is what you get – I find myself drawn to fragrances which evolve and develop, over time. Hours, at least. Maybe overnight. (I’d never buy a fragrance in Duty Free, for instance, unless it was a replenishment for something I already own and adore.

Anyway, there was a trend last autumn for ‘equine’ fragrances – leathery scents. Saddle dovetailed nicely into that trend, but this was designed to create the feel of buttery, worn leather – it smooth, soft, more feminine than you might expect a leather fragrance to be (NB Perfumer H has a very fine example of a Leather scent, here – definitely a touch more tar, but also lavender, to lift it, and worth trying).

Saddle was love at first sniff, for me – but crucially, I liked it even better, after the top notes (bergamot, aldehydes) mellowed. It’s warm, and so, so snuggleable, wrapping you in a blanket. The orange flower lingers for a surprisingly long time, and there’s another white flower – jasmine – which has its moment, too. But it’s the base which is so darned cosy and comforting: vanilla absolute, benzoin resin (sweet and warm), amber and – well, just enough patchouli to keep me happy. Is it leathery? Yes. But in a gentle way. If this was a horse, it’d be a treasured family pony, not a highly-strung thoroughbred.

Most importantly, Saddle also passed the ‘smooch’ test with my husband – thank heavens, because if he doesn’t like something, I respect that and won’t invade his airspace.

I asked ‘Santa’ for the smaller bottle, which isn’t an arm and a leg – but I will go for the bigger (refill) splash, when this runs out. If I had a major windfall, I might well swing for the beautiful hand-blown Michael Ruh bottle (below), but – gulp – it’s £560 for 100ml. I acquired three of these from Perfumer H in the good old days when they were way less expensive – for Magnolia Leaf (discontinued, but Lyn will recreate ‘lost’ fragrances from the collection), Patchouli H (now simply Patchouli) and Heliotrope, which is Perfumer H’s answer to Shalimar, frankly. They look exquisite on the dressing table, and lucky me, but I’m quite happy with the brown apothecary glass, for this.

Perfumer H’s pricing, incidentally, isn’t like anywhere else: the budget all goes into the bottle, rather than on the bottle or the box (the outer packaging is a simply, stylish grey-blue box, stapled at the corners). And the price-tag is actually, too, reflecting the cost of the ingredients. (Saddle, happily, is at the more accessible end of the spectrum).

All in all, Saddle has me purring with pleasure. (Or, possibly, whinnying.)

Thanks, darling! (Sorry – Santa…)

£130 for 50ml – buy here

Prize Draws