Revenge opens with whispery white flowers, with a distinctive narcissus as a trumpet flower as if it is announcing the arrival of a grand lady. The narcissus in the top I found rather soapy but it is clean and refreshing. The white floral scent turns into a fresh English dewy hyacinth. The hyacinth gives this fragrance that Anglo character from Penhaligon. It is as floral as many of the other fragrances from the line but it's far more linear and simple, almost a solifore of iris. The iris takes over in the dry down turning the whole thing into a dusting powder. Fortunately for me the iris blends well with my skin and I welcome dusty powdery fragrances. Mr. Sam here is the twin brother of Halfeti, also created by Penhaligons under the crafted hand of Mr. Provenzano, I would not wonder if Mr. Sam is also his creation, even if the perfumer´s name is not present here nor on Fragrantica.

Sweet, curcumin like dry, lavender is somewhere there, it grows so fast on me, I start to like it more and more. Please? Wait a minute Is that really you or do you just like to be what you think is associated with this perfume?! Don't deceive yourself, you are far from those character traits! Wear the perfume because you like it, but don't bask in its glow as a white knight, which you are not (yet - editor's note)!"Just a moment ago we took a leisurely walk and watched the leaves fall. The ground was dry and the air filled with spices. Must have been a city park and somewhere on the corner someone was apparently selling waffles and spicy tea. The Revenge of Lady Blanche is a well-blended fresh and warm scent. It is a rare composition and even rarer a good one among its counterparts. Mugler aura is also a blend of freshness and warmness but it is not as well-blended as this one though it is still a good perfume. Its freshness and warmness are kind of separate. What I mean is that you smell the freshness in one sniff and the warmness in another. However this one is not. The freshness and warmness come to your nose at the same time. I don't know how they do this but indeed it is a succeed. Even though Sam is described in the history of portraiture as being quite indignant, he comes across as a sensitive gentleman. Of course, there's nothing to say about the gracefulness of the flacons. Sometimes I feel like I can barely smell it at all… but then I can? like the closer / more I try to smell it, it disappears. But then if I just wildly wave my wrist around/near my face… there it is again. It’s very slippery & elusive. One sits comfortably together and enjoys the tender waffles and the company on this slightly rainy evening.

Nevertheless, I put my search on hold, because I was a bit disillusioned by the temporary result. But unexpected often comes and so it happened that I was recently again testing new fragrances, including some Xerjoffs, such as 40 Knots (great, high-quality fragrance). Almost incidentally, Penhaligon's The Blazing Mr. Sam was sprayed on my wrist, which I didn't pay much attention to; I was too taken with 40 Knots. As the day went on, however, I lost more and more control and was only sniffing Mr. Sam, which I had previously dismissed as an overpriced mainstreamer. More and more I liked this actually simple composition, which reminded me a bit of my favourite Spicebomb (original, not extreme). Now I started to do some research and came across the remarkable stories of the Portraits series from Penhaligon's. Highly recommended, almost comic book like. In doing so, I found Mr. Sam's story exceedingly interesting and, to my amazement, somehow applicable to my life's journey. Not the nouveau riche or playboy posturing, but the impetuous, brash, and not-always-correct-with-your-head-through-the-wall strategy. If my mother were to read the description, she would probably smile and somewhat cynically claim that this would apply perfectly to her son. The same goes for the scent itself, which according to her would be far too sweet, just like the ones I have accumulated since puberty and which she resists. But that fits yes, what else she is not used to from me.The description that the portrait is of someone in the fast lane is as accurate as a fist in the eye. The first hour of The Revenge of Lady Blanche is promising: bitter green sap of hyacinth with a subtle powdery texture, almost like those in vintage green floral fragrances but not quite as harshly soapy; velvety petals of lily-of-the-valley scattered within, while the golden hay nuance of narcissus lies underneath. The whole effect is like a modern ballad of spring blossoms, lively yet polished as well. Scent evolution isn't like Amouage's Enclave which stays true to the minty-amber profile. Here I notice the lavender as it starts to dry and it begins to have more of a herbal-green vibe. The prominent amber adds to the blend in the drydown, building on top of the green base and making it smell less harsh (the amber is the part of Enclave's profile that remains). I don't see mint in the note breakdown, but it clearly has a fresh-sweet aromatic vibe comparable to Enclave. Spring/fall, masculine, day/night. This is how Mr. Sam started the acquaintance with me, leaving me confused for a few minutes .. but then, I realized that we met before, in another context - I will explain. According to the marketing blurb, Lord George is supposed to be a tragic figure, Blanche a dangerous woman seeking revenge. I do not see George as Agamemnon nor Blanche as Clytemnestra. If Penhaligons had sold the Lord George perfume as Blanche's revenge (a dish served ice cold) and this flowery bouquet as George's secret tragedy it would be much more apt and far more intriguing. As it is, they made the obvious unimaginative choice and are thus promoting something not just boring but politically suspect. What's that you say? A bunch of flowers, or a perfume pretending to be a bunch of flowers, or a perfume pretending to be a 1970s soap pretending to be a Victorian bunch of flowers, is not political and has no relationship to a dangerous nostalgic-nationalism? Blanche is innocent!, you protest. Are you sure about that? And, yup, perfume can be political and so can a vase of flowers.