Mandragore (2005)
by Annick Goutal

Annick Goutal Mandragore

When I think of Mandrake the first thing that comes to mind are the shreiking plants from Harry Potter which are used to reverse the petrifying spell. Then I think of witch's brew as mandrake root usually follows eye of newt into the witch's cauldron. For those of a later generation there was even a comic strip called Mandrake The Magician. All of these associations tend to conjure up the magical and the mysterious. I was expecting the 2005 creation by Camille Goutal and Isabelle Doyen for Annick Goutal, based on the mandrake root, Mandragore to do the same. Mandragore is surprisingly a much lighter scent than I expected although there is a deep green aspect to it that does evoke some of the mysteriousness that the mandrake root represents. The top starts off very light and spicy with a bright mix of bergamot, anise, ginger, and a pinch of pepper. This is a well-balanced beginning if not as dark as I might have expected. The heart is where the mandrake comes in . Mandrake has an earthy deeply herbal quality. It is closest in character to the more earthy herbal patchouli that I most recently encountered in Reminiscence's Eau de Patchouli. That being said mandrake is no patchouli. The mandrake coveys the dark green herbalness but somehow it seems flat. Instead of being the star it becomes the support for the continued presence of the anise and ginger by adding a contrast to those notes. In the base there is a woody note along with some amber and musk, with the anise and ginger which really seem to last throughout the development of Mandragore. Mandragore has average longevity and average sillage, on me. Mandragore really is a scent that is not at all about the mandrake and more about the anise and ginger and while it might be misnamed it is a very pleasant summer scent, if not the witch's brew I was hoping for based on the name.

I got sprayed with Mandragore randomly at the perfume boutique and later that day realised there's something to it. Tried it again and decided to purchase it. Fast forward >> two months later and my 100 ml (3.4 fl.oz) bottle is less than half empty. And i have and use LOT of perfumes :)
This is a love for life. The drydown makes me want to kiss my skin. Fresh, elegant, clean, elevating scent. Very sexy as well.

I bought the EdP version yesterday, and I am trully crossed. I love the scent, woody and herbal, and not citrus-fresh at the same time, still, it should be called "Gone in Sixty Seconds" instead of "Mandragore". I cannot imagine the lasting power of EdT if the EdP stays on my skin for less then half an hour. In total, I am dissapointed. Extremely short-lived scent.

I tried this in a little shop and I remember smelling patchouli, but after a couple of tries at home, I get lemon...pepper...mandrake (I think). The good news is that the edp actually stays with me for quite some time. Most of the other Goutals are gone in a flash. The bad news is that I am not crazy about this. It should be refreshing (abrasive?) for summer.

Annick Goutal Mandragore

Notes: Bergamot, Black Pepper, Star Anise, Mint, Ginger, Boxwood, Mandrake (from Osmoz.com)

On first spray, Mandragore is a pleasant, biting blend of citrus, pepper, anise and ginger root. The pepper is a bit dry and nose-tickling, although well blended with the other top notes. Overall the effect is almost edible, like an italian cookie dough my grandmother makes. Incidentally, this cookie dough is for pizzelle which are flat waffle-like cookies cooked two-by-two with a special iron or press. While cooking, the aromatic oils of the dough are released into the air where they cling for days. The aromatic oils come from grated lemon zest, vanilla extract and anise oil. Of course, Mandragore does not have the sugary and eggy quality that the cookie dough has, but the resemblance is striking.

Eventually the citrus in Madragore starts to retreat, allowing the pepper and ginger to come forward in a cloud of fluffy anise. Losing the citrus also allows some woods to peek out, and in general, the fragrance becomes much less comforting and much more dry, prickly, austere. About twenty minutes into Mandragore's development, I find it does not hold my interest. It becomes a bit flat, even though the anise and mild woods keep plugging away as the pepper and ginger fade. One to two hours in, I catch pleasant whiffs of the anise, but not much else as most of the other notes have melted into my skin. At complete drydown (about 3-4 hours after applying), the anise is still faintly present along with a sweet, nondescript amber-musk base and the sweaty vestiges of citrus oils. On paper, the scent seems to develop much more slowly, so this may be the better option for longevity. However, even on paper, this fragrance really loses its momentum early on, and it leaves me wanting more.

The name's a bit of a misnomer, because it's not all that dramatic or gothic or earthy. An herbal-citrus opening that strikes the right balance between mellow and bracing, and dries down to a soapiness that, of all things, smells exactly like the soapy drydown of Prada Infusion d'Iris, both the male and female versions.