Fragrance Reviews by romanosa

On first meeting, L’Instant de Guerlain (LIG) EDP sucked me straight back to second grade, when, on rare occasions, I would be the recipient of the coveted CANDY NECKLACE: a length of elastic string, strung with flattened beads of sweet, fruit-flavored candy. The edible piece of jewelry hung around the neck, weighty and wet; whilst a young lady chewed (or sucked) on it until all that was left were a sticky string and a layer of fruity, sugary syrup smeared over fingertips and pulse spots around her neck. That candy necklace smell is what LIG delivered to me straight out of the bottle. Happily, the extreme sweetness the perfume had on application dried down within 30 minutes to become quite pleasant, even oddly calming and grounding. Though I had originally chosen to trial LIG for its citrus notes, I found little distinctly citrusy in the scent, nothing sharp or the least bit bracing. Florals and subtle, succulent fruit were all I could distinguish and among those components nothing singularly outstanding, which I’m interpreting, not as an indicator of my novice nose, but, rather, as the mark of a beautifully blended and balanced perfume.

Indeed, LIG is remarkable in its modest and fine nature. In my wearing, the scent’s aura had a small perimeter; capable of just reaching those within a comfortable chatting distance. This is a fragrance with which to gift one’s self and those with whom one is most closely associated. Still, its short range has no impact on its high performance. As for LIG’s quality, unlike some department-store synthetics that have left me with an aftertaste of bug spray, in this scent there’s the aroma of something oily rich, seemingly three-dimensional and very much alive in its own right. Yet, as individual as the fragrance is, I found it readily mingled with my own skin chemistry to produce something delightfully different from what had I’d decanted – part me and part LIG. Sadly, on fair, dry skin under dry winter conditions, four hours’ wear is all I registered. It lingers on clothing, however, some ten hours later, so it’s likely that in order to finesse a six-to-eight-hour-day’s wear, one would need to use the perfume as well as apply the EDT on clothing and hair and perhaps reapply EDT sometime during the day. Despite its charms, I was loathe to conclude, LIG is not for me. Cursed with a southwestern penchant for cutting to the chase, especially in the face of froufrou, I must have an acerbic edge in first-choice scents and LIG is simply too consistently, well, lovely. Constant and true to the end, it never veers from its deeply honeyed, floral character so that a full 12 hours after the first application, I can still catch the scent on my clothing and savor its goodness. A superb, companionable, scent anytime close-to-the-skin sweetness is key… I must lament not that LIG is too sweet for me, but that I am not sweet enough for LIG.

This fragrance is accessible and pleasant, not overtly masculine, but certainly not feminine. My first impression is of a comforting, magnetic (pour femme), distinct smell of baby powder whisked smoothly into a lambent musk; olfactory cues for curling up on the couch and cuddling. Here is the scent embodiment of domestic contentment (bliss is in some other bottle), of reading-the-Sunday-paper-after-waffles comfortability. Clearly, not a hot-date scent -- there’s nothing assertive or remarkable here -- yet its very lack of ostentation might make it an ideal day-to-day signature fragrance for an unassuming man with nothing to prove. (Does this all stem from its Proctor & Gamble roots?) PERFECT CHOICE for a new dad whose pre-/post-partum wife is hypersensitive to smell and naturally noting assurances of security. For me, the scent remains consistent -- no note disappearing or coming to the fore -- over its long life, which specifically on my male test subject was over six hours on dry skin under dry environmental conditions. Truly a high-functioning scent, but among twelve new smells in a box of sample tubes, I doubt this well-mannered gem will compel me into making a serious purchase for my man soon. A few months and a few trials might well find me more mature and on the prowl for substance, though, and I’ll know just where to find it!

I had an aunt who used to work in a fine women’s clothing store who avidly kept up with fragrance introductions. She’d wear each new one home, layered thick like a winter coat, and hold anyone within her proximity an olefactory captive to “the latest thing.” Much like my aunt, 212 Men has much to recommend it: an intriguing mix of notes to which I’m generally strongly drawn, market savvy, and native intelligence. Yet, when my male test subject tapped on just a bit, I was sucked back into my aunt’s dressing room and had to run for fresh air. Later, he confessed he’d “tolerated" the 212 trial on my account. I wish I could present a more rational review (say, "the spice is occluded by gardenia," which is so), but to me 212 is the smell of a nice older woman with a solid fashion sense who flounders in trying too hard.