I fell in love with this sweet, pretty perfume upon first sniff and bought a large bottle. Calycanthus is a beautiful winter flowering tree with yellow blossoms, and I have not seen any other perfume that is based on this flower. I was hoping to buy a unique, uncommon, yet comforting perfume. Unfortunately, although it is a lovely interpretation of calycanthus, it opens and ends on a uniform sweet note, thus lacking in depth and character. It is pleasantly floral, in the La Chasse aux Papillons tradition, and does not offend anyone with its polite sillage. It has become my everyday "office" scent.
Pros: Light, sweet, clear
Cons: Powdery, prickly, lacking in character
How can anyone resist a bottle of Blue Lotus? The name itself evokes reverie of exotic gardens and mysterious, intoxicating flowers blooming in incense-smoldering night. The reality though, is a bit disappointing. The scent of the fresh lotus is indeed there, sweet and powdery, unfortunately, the rest of the bouquet is non-existent. Some green tea notes seem to accompany the Lotus but the overall effect isn't a compelling presence. Sandalwood wafts wistfully as the tea retreats, a meek companion to the sweet, powdery scent of the Lotus as the flower sleeps. Having experienced Blue Lotus, I have come to appreciate how difficult it is to capture/headshop the scent of the Lotus, and how difficult it is to compose a perfume around this unusual, sweet but elusive center. This is still a pretty EdT, a little stronger than most of the Roger & Gallet colognes, but it is far away from the idea of a mysterious, seductive flower.
This pleasant perfume comes across very much like a soapy version of Fleurissimmo, with distinct detergent notes accompanying the floral accord. It is a light, clean, slightly chilled scent, pretty, non-offensive and an olfactory treat.
Bouquet Imperiale is a very light, bright floral citrus with hardly any sillage or longevity, it is completely appropriate as a unisex summer cologne splash as it is not likely to make an immediate impact regardless of how much of it is used. Petitgrain, bergamot and alyssum dominate the top and middle notes anchored by a slightly smoky musk that is barely discernible. It is an uncomplicated, well-behaved everyday cologne of good stock and refined temperament.
I've owned a bottle for a while now and spritz it on frequently together with my Gucci Rush 2. This fresh, clean, pretty scent of gardenias is charming enough but it lacks depth or complexity from start to finish - it is in no way memorable and will not complicate your day. As such, it is pleasant, subtle and will not offend others in close proximity. This, along with many others, is my quick-spritz-dash-out-of-the-door perfume.
This, along with Marc Jacobs, is my quick-spritz-dash-out-of-the-door perfume - it is fresh, clean, inoffensive, neutral, from start to finish. It is a slightly ozone-y green floral, with hardly any middle or basenotes to speak of. After about 15 minutes, it is barely discernible, and quite forgettable. It is however a very pleasant and neutral, almost unisex perfume, and as it is so uncomplicated and easy to use, it goes fast.
I didn't expect to love this inexpensive unnoticed perfume but I do. While the initial burst of honeysuckle, osmanthus flowers and voluptuous peaches and plums can convey a brash flirtatious personality, the sort of women who wear Versace (shudder...), it mellows quickly to a warm and delicious skin scent that hugs the body while giving off wafts of pretty, coquettish florals. The note that makes it smooth and outstandingly sweet is the honeyed osmanthus - the sweetness is neither pungent nor sugary/vanilla-ry, but soothing, intimate and rounded. It seems to be anchored in a long-lasting base of white musk, which perfectly carries, echoes and continues the beautifully blended top and middle notes of fresh flowers and succulent fruits. The sillage and longevity are amazing, yet Il Bacio gently and sensually perfumes the air like a garden does. It appears to attract men like bees to nectar - they all want a closer sniff!
Vanilla, vanilla, vanilla! I was curious to try Miranda after the great reviews but I don't get any of the other notes - they seemed to have been overwhelmed by the vanilla. Fragonard is to me one of the best houses out there for well-blended and designed perfumes, but Miranda lacks complexity to me. Vanilla can make a great, sweet base, but as a predominant note, it just smells like wearing cake.
Belle de Nuit is indeed a beauty - exquisitely composed of night blooms, fruits and a sultry musky amber base. Although the official florals are mirabilis, rose, geranium, violets accompanied by plum, I pick up indolic white flowers, jasmine and tuberose in addition to the rose-geranium.
Belle de Nuit is a strong, sexy and heavier floral, and very classic and traditional in that it is formulated like perfumes of the past, not the recent "fresh", sugary concoctions. It comes across as a very light floriental, and it reminds me very much of a airier, whiter Tresor with its floral top notes and subtle Musk-Amber basenotes, without Tresor's compelling sillage.
The top notes are very bright, white florals, and the opening is a heady, pretty bouquet that is fresh yet indolic and not too sweet or cloying. This quickly (too quickly, imo,...) makes way for the opulent, softly powdered oriental heart which slowly curls around the body and warms the night air. There is no overwhelming intoxication, la Belle de Nuit is a sultry, feminine, maddeningly seductive but elusive presence, not a femme fatale who demands urgent passions. It is a bold but classically sophisticated temptress.
I am pleased to give this exquisite creature its first review, even as I wonder why it has been neglected since its debut in 2001?
L'Eau du Bonheur is a bright, cheerful companion that will considerably lift one's spirit with its light-hearted florals and juicy citrus top notes that sing along with one's step rather than those that burst zestily into the open. It is completely pleasing in its composition with bergamot, mandarin and light jasmine growing on aromatic leaves and woods - a perfect tree of happiness and well-being.
It is the fragrance I wear for myself, to partake in this succulent pleasure, of blithe, lazy days in the sun, or dozing on a sweet-smelling patch in the woods, without a care in the world.
This one's a very interesting citrus for me - the opening is zesty, sweet and fresh with a hint of detergent. There is also a very light muguet-fresh jasmine like floral wafting through, bringing a tender, elegant companion note. It sounds synthetic but it is a very light, happy and likeable accord. The herbs and woods emerge and lend it a slight bitter edge in the middle - this is not an ordinary herbal-wood accord, but one that reminds me of the smell of old paper that has turned dank in the humidity. It is a strangely compelling scent, alternatively "clean" like the smell of paper and wood shavings, but I can see how it can turn into a suggestion of "BO" on the wrong person. The two intertwine and play off each other throughout the drydown, with the herbal-wood dominating as the hours pass.
It is odd and familiar, lovely, fresh and "wilted", young and "old", feminine and masculine - a juxtaposition of perceptions. I adore it, and it is a lot of fun to wear.
I just bought the EDP version and...Wow, Fracas opens loud, heady and narcotic- it reminds me very much of a natural, highly indolic jasmine hair oil from India my father used to purchase in the belief that it would help his receding hairline. It didn't and he eventually moved on to more scientific methods, but it kept the family away at arm's length whenever he used it.
Fracas calms down after a half hour or so to a sweeter, lighter version of the opening, but the narcotic, indolic quality is still there. Here, it resembles the cologne some airlines used to sprinkle on the warm towels before they hand them to passengers, refreshing but familiar. It has great longevity and sillage for sure, but it also brings on a slight skin redness, so those with sensitive skin should be careful.
I won't go into the notes as many of the other reviewers have elaborated on them, but to my nose, Fracas' popularity is probably its own undoing. It is more recognizable though still unique among the ubiquitous candied junk out there. There are now more modern interpretations of the tuberose by other great perfumers, eg. Carnal Flower, Shalini, La Chasse aux Papillons, and while I appreciate its distinctive history, I feel that it is a bit over-hyped for what it offers.
Hmmm, I really wanted to like this perfume, the notes soundly exactly like what i would love....what I got was an old-fashion blast at first spray, pungent and chemical. The middle and base are floral-powdery, not unpleasant, but they don't lift me to ecstatic heights either. I don't get much "green" at all, and the florals are musty and "perfumey", not fresh and heady like most modern florals. The drydown is sweet, though powdery, but it wasn't worth the wait. On the whole, not disagreeable, but not something I would buy again, and will likely swap my bottle away if anyone's interested.
This isn't really a floral at all. It is a tart, gourmand smell of dried pickled plums! Go look for a bag of this salty dried fruit snack at any Asian supermarket, it is that exact same note. The drydown is somewhat powdery but the pleasant sour plum note predominates. It literally makes the mouth water. I give this thumbs up for capturing such an elusive note and for the courage to put this into a perfume. It isn't the usual sexy, flowerry, musky concoction, this is one of the most unique and interesting scents I've come across.
Some days I love it, other days it bothers me so much, I have to scrub it off. It is so beautifully delicious I can eat myself, it is so powdery, cloying and pungent, it gives me severe migraine. It is strikingly retro, it is startlingly modern. The blue and red bottle is so unusual, bold and sexy - it is also hideous and nasty. You can tell by now I am of two minds with this endlessly fascinating and possibly repugnant perfume. It is however, *my* perfume, not only in name, but an ex simply dropped it into my lap one day and said, "It's you," and the first time I wore it, it was really me.
I was very young, in my late teens, dating a successful lawyer 15 years older. He was plump, short, milky pale with thinning hair, wealthy, stingy and mean and my friends couldn't fathom why. Now I know. Though it sounds like a bad cliche, it was the Eau Sauvage. It made him seem tall and sexy, albeit in a straitlaced manner. Different from all the others who were just boys. They were wearing ozoney-mariney body splashes. I couldn't get enough of the drydown - the green, herbal, slightly bitter musk that closely resembles masculine odour. The bright, sparkly burst of the citrus top notes did it for me too. Eventually, I wised up and dumped him. I bought a bottle of Eau Sauvage for myself. Last I heard, he was dating another student 20 years younger.
The complexity of Chergui astonishes me. The ethereal, unfathomable loveliness of the green floral top notes with faint wafts of powder give way to an almost masculine, voluptuous bergamot, burning wood and leathery cologne-like body before settling to a smoky, patchouli-vetiver warmth. It wafts from the pulse points to encircle the body, the three notes echoing off each other at various intervals in the drydown. I'll wear this even though it smells more like a man's perfume despite a personal preference for intoxicating florals. It conjures reverie...This perfume isn't for lads - Chergui would be the scent of an older, wiser, dangerously handsome world traveler, a man with a past but who is at peace with himself, and who is about to fall in love with a reckless, defiantly intelligent, complicated younger woman.
I've been coveting this since I was thirteen when I first sniffed a sample of it and was swept up in bliss by the freshness of its floral notes. However, I got into other trendier, splashier perfumes like BabyDoll as I grew up and forgot about it, until a boyfriend gave a bottle of it to me. It's simply one of the most beautiful, uncomplicated florals, almost a soliflore of the muguet, the Lily of the Valley.The only downside is that it doesn't last and the bottle is rapidly depleted. I would think it's suitable for younger women as it suggests a very innocent and graceful disposition. I behave myself when I wear Diorissimo!