I was astounded to smell the phony synthetic sandalwood note which pioneered in Samsara, I believe, and which gags me invariably anytime I'm within a mile of it. So many perfume fans I knew had given it rave reviews. Frankly, I was surprised to find such a synthetic note in a Diptyque fragrance. Big pass here. Because I dislike this note so much, I was unable to smell any of the rest of the fragrance.
I first bought a bottle of this in a "vintage" store in Cleveland. The bottle and its box seemed brand new, and I don't believe anyone had opened it. I was enchanted by the fragrance wafting upward to greet my nose. The scent is a sweet floral with a slightly spicy edge. I'm sorry that it's hard for me to describe notes the way some members here can, but that's all I can come up with for a description. It's not an oriental or a chypre, of that much I'm fairly confident. It's definitely a much older perfume style, but pleasant, very nice indeed. I have also bought two other bottles, both were in great shape. One thing I would point out about Yanky Clover is that it is one of the most durable fragrances I have ever bought. It holds up remarkably well over time, so a bottle where you can see fresh-looking juice is definitely likely to still smell fresh.
It took quite a few years for me to find a bottle of Roger & Gallet's old fragrance Le Jade. Because of the hint of greenness, and green florals being my favorite type of fragrance, I had really obsessed over this purchase. When I got the bottle, I was rather disappointed to find it smelling like a cheaper, flatter version of Yanky Clover.
I discovered a reference to Cadolle No. 9 in Jan Moran's first book Fabulous Fragrances. It piqued my curiosity, so when I heard that Les Senteurs in London had it, I bought a bottle in great hopes! I was everything I had hoped for, and more. At the time, I wish I had bought several bottles, because quickly it became impossible to obtain any more of the eau de parfum. I bought an inexpensive edt bottle later, but have been very disappointed with it. If you can get your hands on a bottle of the Eau de Parfum---it's worth it. But I'd have to advise against the eau de toilette, which is thin, harsh smelling, and does not have that beautiful evening glove feeling to it.
I didn't discover Galanos until after 2000--and I can't get enough of it. I'm puzzled by some of the reactions of other reviewers, but I suspect I'm older than they and may be not as much attuned to the scents considered so worthy today. In fact, my perfume obsession developed in the early 90s as an attempt to discover why I could find nothing in the department stores which appealed to me. Galanos has a spicy, opulent floral flamboyance which is not of the same ilk of other perfumes of its day. It is a fragrance outside of its time, and in my opinion, quite unique. In terms of other perfumes of its time, I'd compare it perhaps with Cardin's Empreinte, or maybe Alain Delon's Le Temps d'aimer. Although it's considered a floral, or a floriental, it smells rather chypre-ish to me, a wet chypre, not a dry one. Nor is it like a Chloe, a Giorgio, an Escada, a Herrera or an Amarige, which in my opinion, is a blessing. It is not the bath of vanilla, nor the heavy incensey inside of a cathedral smell, nor a dry leathery smell. It is not as green or herbal as Paloma (casting no aspersions on Paloma, one of the most fabulous scents of all time IMHO), but just as large, as elegant, and as individualistic. My husband goes wild when I wear it.....
Hmmm. I'm wondering what the first two reviewers are smelling? I wore this since it first came out. I was a newlywed, silly, young, romantic, and this just smelled like the most heavenly light floral, but unfortunately never seemed to last very long. As the years went by, I had used up my stash, then found it was long discontinued. Ebay and other resources have allowed me to fall in love with this all over again. It still smells exactly the same to me now as it did when I was in my early 20s and received loads of compliments. I think the jasmine notes are especially attractive here. I still call this a lovely floral floral.
I never got to try the old version of Casma, and the new one is spoiled for me by the presence of the artificial sandalwood note which spoils so many contemporary perfumes, including Tam Dao. I wish I could have tried it before the reformulation!
Murasaki is one of the few green floral fragrances still available anywhere at all. I absolutely love it, and discovered it by accident in the 90s. I bought perfumes from a wonderful lady who owned a perfume shop in South Carolina. Her daughter confided to me that Murasaki had been one of her favorite perfumes but that she had not been able to obtain any. Well, that was enough to pique my curiosity. I ended up phoning the Shiseido boutique in Honolulu and discovered that they had Murasaki. The daughter was thrilled and bought a bottle for her Mom as a surprise. I thought it was too good an opportunity to spring for a surprise myself, so I bought a bottle for myself. I was just beginning to realize how much the galbanum note in the top of a perfume made it attractive and beautiful to me. I have now been wearing Murasaki for a long time and wouldn't be without it. As far as I know, the formula has not been tampered with. Some of the other classic green scents don't work as well for me, as they have too much cedar in the base, or vetiver, or leather, such as Deneuve, Chanel #19, Vent Vert. On me it is a softer, wetter mossy perfume. One of my bosses always loved it, thought it reminded him of his Mom's Chanel #5. Funny, since I can't wear #5 effectively--all I can ever smell in it is aldehydes going straight to a base note.
I discovered this scent, L'Eau de Monteil, when it was first introduced in the department stores accompanied by an absolutely beautiful display and bottle design. It is still my favorite "vacation in a bottle" perfume, although it is not of the tiare-laden or tuberosic style of vacation. It is easy to wear, and well, pretty.
By the time I got around to trying Fiori Bianchi, it was long gone. In fact, I really never had any information about it. A kind perfumista sent me a sample, which I am still enjoying. It's a shame this didn't get much play, as it is really the only Laura Biagiotti fragrance I've ever admired, and it's the only one I would ever wear.
I just wanted to point out that the reintroduced scent under this name is nothing whatsoever like the old scent by d'Orsay, which was one of my mother's all time favorite perfumes.
Although I'm not really fond of leathery scents on my own skin, I have a high regard for Chanel's Cuir de Russie. I don't wear it, but I can imagine wearing it! I'd say Piver's version is quite a bit more masculine than Chanel's and it would surprise me if there were any women who really wanted to wear this one. I'm embarassed to admit, I bought it for the bottle and the label, which always reminds me of Stravinsky's Petrouchka ballet.
Sourire is one of my more successful attempts to purchase a perfume without testing it first. It is one of many Shiseido perfumes sold only in the Asian market, perhaps even only within Japan. I read its description in the H & R Fragrance Guide, and determined to see if Shiseido would sell me a bottle directly. A very polite representative from Shiseido in Japan responded to my email request, and shipped me a bottle of Sourire. To my great enjoyment, it turned out to be a lovely, very feminine and graceful scent. The opening notes are sprightly, and the floral heart exudes some spiciness contributed by the carnation note. The drydown is truly feminine and powdery.
This is, in my opinion, the most beautiful version of the soliflore carnation perfume ever made. It is silky and smooth, the spiciness of the carnation softened with the sweetness of vanilla and powdery notes. Bellodgia is much more complex, and I'm not including it as a carnation soliflore. Blue Carnation is smoother than and slightly sweeter than Floris' Malmaison.
I bought my lovely, blue and brown decorated spray bottle of Bakir in my last year of college, when it was undoubtedly way too sophisticated for me!
The scent is extremely unique, very intriguing, with a special spicy greenish-resinous piquancy which makes it different than the usual oriental fragrance. There is something about it which makes me think of Christmas, although I couldn't put my finger on it. I now have a bottle made by Long Lost Perfume Company, and it's very very close to the original. Although I love this, I seldom wear it. It can be overpowering if not carefully applied, and is best suited to a grand occasion, and a very bold personality.
A wonderful, soft, ambery oriental which is usually paired in my own mind with Balenciaga's Prelude. Both of these have wonderful amber accords, although Normandie is a bit less sweet than Prelude, and may have a bit more of an incense note. This is wonderful in cool weather: distinguished and soothing.
Wafting along with the piquancy of a martini, Cocktail refreshes and sparkles without being really very sweet, or fruity, or very floral, for that matter. I believe there may be a lavender note in here contributing to the dry effect of Cocktail, which makes it so especially unique.
A light fruity floral somewhat similar to Carven's Guirlandes, another perfume introduced in 1982. The top has a bit of appealing greenness, but eventually the dry smoky basenotes reminded me too much of Cabochard, which is not one of my favorites, despite its classic status!
Givenchy III is one of the rare green chypre or green floral scents still obtainable today. The heart is generously floral, although it remains tailored and elegant, making it suitable for daytime office wear AND for evening occasions. I consider the basenote of this perfume one of the most purely beautiful bases ever created.
I might have missed out on this one altogether, had it not been for the consistent recommendations I received on this perfume from saleswomen familiar with hundreds of perfumes. It's one for a connoisseur/se, and has a tendency to grow on one over time.
It has that rare and, to me, thrilling, combination of stimulating crispness wedded to searing heat.
This fruity floral is unpleasantly similar to so many other fragrances of its day, such as Oui-Non, Tresor, Volupte, and Zoa, all of which contain peach and apricot topnotes, rich floral hearts, and basenotes featuring cedar and musk over a layer of ambered vanilla. Much as I ldislike the scent of Tres Jourdan, I find the packaging and bottle design stunningly beautiful! It's a perfume I bought solely for the bottle and never intend to wear!
Votre is a classically beautiful scent in the French tradition. It sparkles its way through topnotes and heart notes, then settles down intoa light lovely sillage. Think of First, then lighten it up a little, reduce some brashness, and you might have something close to Votre. Sure wish I had a bottle of the pure perfume!
A light floral described on its label as possessing the following notes: sand jasmine (what is this?), sea spray, mandarin, jasmine, and orange blossom.
When I wear this, I think of vacations in Florida in the 1960s, when the highways there were lined with 1 story motels and tacky (but fun) souvenir shops full of things made from seashells and straw hats. And of course, I think of the famous large billboard ads for Coppertone! Of all the beachy scents I've smelled, this one evokes the most nostalgia, for some reason.
Prelude enwraps one in an incredibly soft and elegant cloud of amber, without any of the harsh, metallic, or synthetic-edged notes which often spoil oriental and ambery perfumes for me. In some ways it is similar to Patou's Normandie and to Dioressence, another impossibly beautiful amber!
Ariane is one of my two favorite Avon perfumes, the other one being Emprise. The opening is soft and flowery, developing into a very rewarding spicy floral heart. They drydown is also soft, feminine, and powdery, and is long lasting. How nice that Avon brings this one back from time to time.
A dark, sophisticated, luscious, creamy and elegant perfume smelling like a darker version of Paloma with more patchouli. Although often classified as an Oriental, I experience it more as a rich patchouli-laden ambery chypre. This is not a perfume to be worn in the spring and summer, but maybe to an evening at the opera in the fall and winter.
Forest Lily smells like spring flowers in bloom, especially hyacinths. Although the scent is pretty, I'm not entirely in love with the way it dries down on my skin.
First may be one of the very last great classic French perfumes! I discovered this in the early 90s thanks to a most kind and helpful saleswoman at the May Company in Cleveland, who suggested I try this. My first impression, as well as my everpresent reaction to First is that it smells "French", and "perfume-y".
First opens with a rather brash and in your face topnote which is immediately backed up by a forthright medly of exuberant, elegant florals, which is tempered by a most pleasing combination of basenotes. It is one of my "desert island" fragrances, and never strikes a wrong note, or feels inappropriate. It gives me that "world in a bottle" feeling--nothing is left out that I could possibly wish to feel! It is elegant, tailored, warm, long-lasting, complicated, spicy, feminine, yet assertive
Diva is an elegant chypre perfume redolent with rose, rose geranium, and patchouli. Although closely related to many of the other floral chypres of the late 70s and early 80s, it is rosier and less green than Coriandre, and less full of nuances than Paloma. To my nose, it lacks some of the complexity of Coriandre and Paloma, although I still prefer it to Eau du Soir and Maroc, which it also somewhat resembles. The bottle, with its elegant pleats, couldn't be lovelier!
Alada begins with a fresh burst of lime followed by a warm fresh eau de cologne heart. The top and mid notes fade away leaving a somewhat musky and masculine type of drydown which, unfortunately, doesn't appeal to me much. This scent could be worn equally well by anyone who enjoys it, male or female. In fact, the bottle design is somewhat unisex in appearance.
I believe that Gauloise is possibly a mistake of packaging design. For those of us who find cigarette smoke obnoxious, the idea of a perfume resembling a cigarette package is not exactly an attractive concept, and I think that subconciously it hinders me from wearing this lovely perfume. Every time I spray it on, I'm impressed with its beauty and resolve to wear it more often. It really is a classically beautiful aldehydic floral, with a clarity which reminds me of the other Molyneux perfume I adore: Vivre!
Floris' Stephanotis smells exactly like a huge wedding bouquet! It is utterly divine!