If you go to Reykjavík, Iceland, you will see many storefronts for 66°North, an outerwear brand with B-Corp certification. One was located right by our hotel when we visited in February, so I went in a couple of times to try their limited-edition fragrance collaboration with Fischersund: Jöklalykt eau de toilette.

Launched in celebration of Glacier Friday on November 24, 2023, the 30-mL bottle is packaged in a bandanna that features a contour map of Iceland’s biggest glacier, Vatnajökull. Jöklalykt is an “ode to Icelandic glaciers” created to raise awareness of their disappearance with global warming.

The scent poem reads:

Sculptures floating in salty water.
Distant rumbles disturb the heavy silence
Ancient soil under ice, waiting.
Wet socks, runny nose, condensed breath.
Humbled amidst the endless white.
Landscape carved, minerals released.
Heavy glass sheets.
Collapsing.

The name Jöklalykt literally translates to “glaciers’ smell”: jökla = glaciers; lykt = smell. The first time we visited Iceland, almost 10 years ago, we went on a glacier hike on Sólheimajökull. I don’t remember how it smelled, but do remember the feeling of awe inspired by the shapes and textures of ice, earth, rock, and moss under a silver sky.

When I first sprayed Jöklalykt, I got a blast of geosmin, the molecule responsible for the aroma of petrichor. Surely there’s more to the perfume than that, I hoped. Only because I’d just recently bought a vial of geosmin and learned to recognize it in its pure form. In the subfreezing temperatures of Reykjavík, it took a while for the earthy, rooty notes to emerge on my wrist and convince me there was enough going on to warrant a bottle purchase.

I had read that Jöklalykt was sold at 66°North stores as well as at Keflavík Airport. I decided to buy it at the store by our hotel for a more proper souvenir experience, and was glad I did, because I didn’t end up seeing it anywhere in the airport. (Also, I got my tax refund at the airport, so there was no cost difference.)

Today was a rainy day in New England, though fairly warm, and the notes of Jöklalykt came to life much faster. It still opens with geosmin, but is quickly followed by freshly dug, lush earth, as well as vetiver and a smoky accord familiar from No. 101 also by Fischersund. Initially this is bracing with a bitter pungency, and aldehydes dance around creating a “cold” effect. Soon, however, the sharpness is replaced by a mild, natural sweetness in the way of beets being sweet—and earthy at the same time. Sparse greenery is suggested by subtle florals and woods. The chorus of scents comes across as musky on fabric and becomes harmonious.

I am grateful that they did not include a “wet sock” accord per the scent poem. This is damp earth, and the richness points to a melting rather than frozen glacier… as does the ephemerality, as Jöklalykt is fleeting, completely gone after 4 to 5 hours, even from fabric.

This week, The New York Times published an article about perfumes for “smelling singular,” including some usual suspects with notes of bodily fluids or illicit substances. I would put Jöklalykt firmly on such a list, though its aim is not shock value but awareness of the need to protect nature—before it’s too late.