Reviews of Philosykos (1996)
by Diptyque

Fig lovers -- this may be the holy grail you've been searching for!

As for myself, I'll be frank -- I'm still not convinced. It's like sitting under the shade of a fig tree -- then someone mischievous suddenly starts spraying coconut juice. Annoyed, your S.O. tries to ignore the troublemakers by cutting the unripe figs she had just picked into halves and throws them back at the misfits. Finally, they leave after being terrorized by the green-ness of the figs. Sadly, by the time you try to sit down and enjoy the scent of the figs -- you smell nothing because there are no figs left -- just the faint smell of leaves and the wood.

one of the best fig fragrance. But, could be wearisome..

I love figs. Rich and sweet, but not too sweet. But like green tea fragrances, I get the idea that perfume noses decided they would settle on what a fig smells like and then make variations of that for fig perfumes. To me, it doesn't smell like figs, it smells like. . .dry grass and tomato leaves. I love sniffing at the bottle, but I wouldn't wear it.

A for effort. The freshness is amazing, as is the naturality – one of the most authentic renditions of fruit I’ve come across, especially considering that the scent is entirely fabricated. This isn’t some shy, milky little whisp of figs on a temperate breeze (like for example that other fig by Giacobetti, AP’s Premier Figuier, which I honestly prefer); it’s like taking a big bite off of a fat fig-leaf and feeling the sap sting your tongue. This fig is green, fresh, raw and crisp, a bit more on the masculine side, perhaps. But while I can appreciate it as a work of art, I just don’t like it all that much as a fragrance to wear. It’s best suited to analyze and admire – and you have to be quick about it too, because it’s gone within two hours.