Sofiya Dolna White Peony : Fragrance Review and Ukrainian Perfumery

The first time I smelled White Peony by Dolna Sofiya, I had the sensation of stepping into a memory I hadn’t lived yet—a sunlit room, lace curtains swaying, petals scattered on a linen tablecloth. The perfume didn’t just unfold, it breathed, as if it had been waiting to be noticed: a gauzy blend of rose buds, green leaves, and the faintest trace of nectar. But what stayed with me wasn’t only the scent—it was the sense of intent. This was no imitation. It was a statement: delicate, yes, but deliberate.

Its creator, Sofiya Dolna, is part of a quiet, brave movement blooming in Ukraine—one where scent becomes not just personal expression, but a cultural declaration. In the lingering wake of White Peony, I sensed something larger stirring—a new kind of perfumery, rooted in emotion, resilience, and place. And today I want to tell you about Sofiya—and about what it means to make something beautiful in a time of rupture.

Perfume

White Peony opens like a page in spring light—soft, yet vivid. The initial impression is the brightness of green tea and crushed flower petals, fresh and dewy. The green facets are pronounced, which initially gives the fragrance sharpness. Yet as the composition evolves, the verdant notes soften into a sweet, creamy floral accord. There’s something restrained about the sweetness, as though Sofia didn’t want to romanticize the flower but instead to show it in its quiet strength as well as a fantasy of a blossom. Think a Monet painting of a peony, rather than a high-resolution photograph.

As White Peony settles, it invites me into my favorite part of this perfume–the languid drydown where the layers of white petals float over the creaminess of sandalwood and velvety musk. The finish is classically restrained, but it melts into the skin with the comfort of fine cashmere—the kind of texture that makes you sigh with pleasure. The sillage is gentle, the longevity intimate, making it a perfume that invites you to come closer, to pay attention.

My Impressions

What struck me most was its balance. The composition doesn’t shout; it doesn’t follow trends. It feels like a scent shaped by intuition and emotion—a complete personal vision. Rooted in Ukrainian soil, yet reaching far beyond it. It was one of Sofiya’s first compositions, created long before we met. While there are elements about White Peony that I would refine in order to soften the green notes or to improve its diffusion, even as it is, the fragrance is compelling. I first wore it to understand Sofiya as a creator. Now I wear it simply for pleasure–and from someone with a collection of several hundred bottles, this is the highest compliment.

About Sofiya Dolna

Sofiya is based in western Ukraine. When she first wrote to me, I was immediately drawn to her sense of purpose. She wasn’t asking for validation—she was seeking dialogue, guidance, and a way to place her work in the broader conversation of scent. Her training is mostly self-directed, shaped by reading, experimentation, and a deep love of raw materials. She is now studying with me, and I find it thrilling that as a student of Sophia Grojsman, I have a chance to pass the knowledge and skills of one Sophia to another.

Unlike France or Italy, Ukraine doesn’t yet have an established industry or iconic house—but it has something more vital: urgency, creativity, and a hunger to express. Perfumery here often begins in small studios, shaped by intuition, folklore, and the materials at hand. It’s raw, vibrant, and intensely personal.

On Ukrainian Perfumery

I’ve met perfumers and fragrance creators in Kyiv, Lviv, and Odesa who remind me of the early days of niche perfumery in Europe—before the algorithms and market forecasts, when the question was, What do I want to say through scent? Sofiya is one of those voices. So is Anna Sokolova, whose SKLVA perfumes explore personal themes with startling sensitivity. Maria’s Margie Doesn’t Make Perfumes is a collection of vignettes that make me fall into a reverie. Yuliya Manoylo’s Manoli reminds me of Ukrainian lush flora–her Blooming Linden is my Poltava garden bottled. Ksandra Osinina is a magician behind the brand called Char Zilla. I can go on and on. Instead, I will share about each of these creators in separate articles, because they deserve our attention and support.

To me, this emerging scene is not just exciting—it’s necessary. In a time when Ukraine is so often framed through destruction, these fragrant gestures reclaim beauty as a form of cultural survival. They remind us that even amidst uncertainty, something tender and new can bloom.

Where to Buy

Sofiya Dolna White Peony includes notes of green leaves, lily of the valley, Madonna lily, rose, sandalwood, musk. Available in 3ml (appr $9), 10ml (appr $31), 30ml (appr $61). To order, please write Sofiya directly via Instagram.

I’ll be sharing more about the Ukrainian perfumers whose work has moved me in the coming weeks. I will also continue highlighting the work of other remarkable indie creators around the world. If you’ve discovered a fragrance that made you feel something unexpected or if you have a local indie perfume brand you admire, I’d love to hear about it.

Photography by Bois de Jasmin