I read about this one and was excited to try it because of the positive reviews I've seen. I am forever looking for tea based fragrances.
The only one in this line that smells like honest to goodness tea to me is Au Thé Rouge. Which I love.
It bugged me: why does this smell so familiar? Until I realized: it does smell like tea. The kind that comes in a powdered form in a tub with a scoop, and is loaded with pretend lemon flavoring and ends up much too sweet no matter how much it's diluted.
Once the sharply carbonated top has mellowed, this becomes pleasant.. but just isn't my cup of tea, so to speak.
I get rose, green tea, and beeswax primarily. The rose dominates and is a bit too strong for me to wear. Sillage and longevity are good on my skin. Nice fragrance, but too feminine for me.
The way in which a great ghostly scent could be appointed in order to influence without being noticed, the way to be "huge" in the shade, to stimulate senses without to be knowingly caught and thought by the people around. An Ellena's lesson of sheer "new balance" by a re-visited classic type of recipe. Extremely transparent, expertly balanced and initially crisp piece of floral-hesperidic minimalism ending its run with a breezy tinge of cardamomish tea. The juice is all about crispy hesperidic (lemony) and grassy-honeyed jasmine but cardamom and tea tend gradually to merge their substance magnificently in order to create that sort of "fresh-liquid spicy fluidity" typical of many tea-veined concoctions all around. Yes, the juice smells naturalistically and "realistically" and is quite easy to wear. I see a trait d'union with the classic Pour Homme which anyway smells on my skin more complex in hesperidic articulation, subtle in floral waves, tea-centered, cedary, modern and piquant-virile (crisp synth liquid ambergris, guaiac wood and black pepper) while Eau Parfume au The' Vert being smelling more cologney, victorian and naïf. Dry down is so soft, gentle, subtle and vaguely waxy, yes someting kind of peaceful and reflexive. In conclusion I passionately recommend this juice to all the fonds of this specific genre which will have the opportunity to enjoy an extremely refined, "fragrant" and glorious piece of "neo-victorian" classicism with a contemporary breezy-exotic twist.
01st June, 2016 (last edited: 02nd June, 2016)
It's not bad; it's just not good.
The very lightest of lemony scents, opening with an herbal and lemon blast, then settling down to a minimalist citrus/woody, disappearing quickly.
There is more to this than listed above. Additional notes include: Coriander, Mandarin and Lemon in the top, Muguet in the middle, and Sandalwood, Amber, Musk and Cedar in the base.
There are hundreds of light summery citrus splashes to be had in the perfume world. This has going for it a light green tea dry down that is differentiating, but still no reason to run out and buy, especially given its poor longetivity.
like to think of Eau Parfumé au Thé Vert as Jean-Claude Elléna’s minimalist manifesto. It’s certainly not the first modern fragrance to combine clean sexlessness, transparency, and structural simplicity. It has approximate stylistic precedents in bright, clear, green citrus florals such as Annick Goutal’s Folavril (1981) and Eau du Ciel (1985). On the other hand, it was the first fragrance of its kind to achieve commercial success for a popular, established perfume house. Its influence was felt immediately, both in designer scents like Tommy Girl, and in niche fragrances like Thé pour un Été. For better or worse, it also established a stylistic vein that Elléna has mined doggedly right up to the present. Over the decades it has been much imitated and frequently debased – regrettably at times even by Elléna himself. Yet it remains one of the best of its type and a significant landmark in the history of perfume.
While it has been paired with its contemporary, L’Eau d’Issey, as one of the twin instigators of an “anti-perfume” aesthetic, the two scents have very little besides transparency and a cool, crisp cleanliness in common. Whereas L’Eau d’Issey smells proudly artificial or synthetic, Thé Vert smells natural. Not “natural” in terms of imitating a natural smell, nor in terms of ingredients – indeed I’m sure there’s plenty of synthetic content – but in terms of smelling like something one could actually encounter in nature. Perhaps “naturalistic” is the better word. By contrast, L’Eau d’Issey smells like something you would find only in a on a shelf – albeit an elegant one. That’s not to pass any aesthetic judgment. Both styles can please, and both have been fruitful – I need only think of Mugler Cologne, Mark Buxton’s work for Comme des Garçons or Charles Brosius’s oeuvre to recognize the creative potential inherent in the L’Eau d’Issey line.
Does Eau Parfumée au Thé Vert smell like green tea? Not really. It smells green and fruity, it smells of crisp jasmine (and hedione?), and it smells refreshing, in the way I would expect of an iced beverage. Being a sexless smell, it is also absolutely gender neutral. Oddly though, despite its sheer texture and extreme transparency, Eau Parfumée au Thé Vert is relatively potent and lasting. I don’t need more than a couple of sprays to last me the whole day. Historical importance aside, I very much enjoy this scent, and place it alongside Déclaration, Eau de Campagne, and Globe as one of Elléna’s very finest works. Unlike much of what he’s done since, Eau Parfumée au Thé Vert makes me smile.