✨🧚♀️🦄🐞🪼🌙 Part of the Jitterbug Perfumes Special Collection ✨🧚♀️🦄🐞🪼🌙
Top Notes: Green apple, salty sea air, and a hint of rain, petrichor and ozonic notes.
Heart Notes: Iris, strawberry, whipped cream, vanilla, lactones), sweet vanilla and musk.
Base Notes: Cedar, pine sap, malted barley, smoky vetiver.
A nostalgic, multi-sensory experience, evoking memories of nature, food, and cozy moments—like reading in a bookstore… a marshmallow treat… an iris tucked into a bud vase. It’s a whimsical, layered fragrance that blends the sweetness of gourmand notes with the grounding earthiness of forest and soil.
SummerCamp is a memory bottled in amber sunlight, a potion brewed in the cauldron of nostalgia where the gods of childhood and wildness dance a reckless jitterbug. It opens with a mischievous spritz of green apple, tart as the first bite stolen from a tree on a dare, mingled with the briny kiss of salty sea air—ozone and chlorine swirling like the ghosts of cannonballs into a sun-warmed lake. Then comes the petrichor, a fat raindrop splattering on hot pavement, whispering secrets of earth and sky in a single, electric breath.
At its heart, SummerCamp blooms like an iris so purple it’s nearly black, its powdery petals unfurling beside a strawberry patch where the fruit bleeds sweetness into the air, sticky as a camper’s grin. Vanilla and whipped cream drift in, hand-churned with sugar, a creamy dream of dessert by the campfire, while melted marshmallows cling to the scent like fluff on sticky fingers—soft, musky, and sinfully sweet. It’s the smell of a dog-eared book from a forest-floor bookstore, pages yellowed with the musk of malted barley, as if the grain itself were toasted over a fire of cedar planks, their smoky sap rising to cradle a phantom whiff of grilled salmon.
The base is a hymn to the wildwood: pine sap melting in the warm air, carried on cool breezes that rustle through mossy forest floors, leaving traces of patchouli and vetiver—earthy as fresh soil, dry as cardboard forts abandoned after rain. Amber glows beneath it all, a resinous heartbeat, while a faint popcorn note, buttery and odd, sneaks in like jelly beans swapped in a prank, tying the scent together with a wink of mischief.
SummerCamp is the perfume of untamed days and firelit nights, of laughter echoing through the trees and the ache of a first crush pressed between the pages of a borrowed book. It’s the scent of freedom, bottled for those who still hear the call of the wild in their bones.
✨🧚♀️🦄🐞🪼🌙 Part of the Jitterbug Perfumes Special Collection ✨🧚♀️🦄🐞🪼🌙
Top Notes: Green apple, salty sea air, and a hint of rain, petrichor and ozonic notes.
Heart Notes: Iris, strawberry, whipped cream, vanilla, lactones), sweet vanilla and musk.
Base Notes: Cedar, pine sap, malted barley, smoky vetiver.
A nostalgic, multi-sensory experience, evoking memories of nature, food, and cozy moments—like reading in a bookstore… a marshmallow treat… an iris tucked into a bud vase. It’s a whimsical, layered fragrance that blends the sweetness of gourmand notes with the grounding earthiness of forest and soil.
SummerCamp is a memory bottled in amber sunlight, a potion brewed in the cauldron of nostalgia where the gods of childhood and wildness dance a reckless jitterbug. It opens with a mischievous spritz of green apple, tart as the first bite stolen from a tree on a dare, mingled with the briny kiss of salty sea air—ozone and chlorine swirling like the ghosts of cannonballs into a sun-warmed lake. Then comes the petrichor, a fat raindrop splattering on hot pavement, whispering secrets of earth and sky in a single, electric breath.
At its heart, SummerCamp blooms like an iris so purple it’s nearly black, its powdery petals unfurling beside a strawberry patch where the fruit bleeds sweetness into the air, sticky as a camper’s grin. Vanilla and whipped cream drift in, hand-churned with sugar, a creamy dream of dessert by the campfire, while melted marshmallows cling to the scent like fluff on sticky fingers—soft, musky, and sinfully sweet. It’s the smell of a dog-eared book from a forest-floor bookstore, pages yellowed with the musk of malted barley, as if the grain itself were toasted over a fire of cedar planks, their smoky sap rising to cradle a phantom whiff of grilled salmon.
The base is a hymn to the wildwood: pine sap melting in the warm air, carried on cool breezes that rustle through mossy forest floors, leaving traces of patchouli and vetiver—earthy as fresh soil, dry as cardboard forts abandoned after rain. Amber glows beneath it all, a resinous heartbeat, while a faint popcorn note, buttery and odd, sneaks in like jelly beans swapped in a prank, tying the scent together with a wink of mischief.
SummerCamp is the perfume of untamed days and firelit nights, of laughter echoing through the trees and the ache of a first crush pressed between the pages of a borrowed book. It’s the scent of freedom, bottled for those who still hear the call of the wild in their bones.
