Total Reviews: 64
I can't hate . . .
When Amarige arrived on the scene in 1991, riding one of the last waves in the storm of powerhouse 1980s spicy florals, it was love at first sniff for me, the perfect accompaniment to both its time and mine (late 20s and single in the city)—so much so that one whiff today can send me spinning into nostalgia with the clarity and weight of the memories it evokes.
Amarige became for my girlfriends and me the scented soundtrack of our single years, and we gleefully and unapologetically left clouds of its tuberose-on-steroids sillage in our wake as we tore through our city’s dance clubs and bars. For Amarige is nothing if not the heady scent of nighttime fun and seduction. It starts off loud and proud, with a blast of everything-but-the-kitchen-sink florals, enters into a plumy/peach-jam phase within a couple hours, and by the end of the evening manages to mellow out into a slightly boozy medley of warm woods with just a hint of skank. It's a bombshell, but a completely good-natured one, the perfume equivalent of, say, Sophia Vergara. You don’t want to cut this girl down, you want to be her best friend and bounce along on her laugh-a-minute ride.
A couple years later, I met my husband, settled down, got serious about my career, bought a house, and replaced my bottle of Amarige with a discreet flacon of Issey Miyake.
But I will always own a bottle of Amarige, always love it, always defend it. Even if, all these years later, it is impossible for me to wear.
Cool fresh tuberose. Sweet, milky white and metallic.
Alien flower juice, venomous as snake bite.
Mutant spawn of Poison and Sécrétions Magnifique.
Utterly audacious. Insanely powerful.
Rating : zen . zero stars
22nd December, 2015 (last edited: 23rd December, 2015)
There are two things about Amarige I find hard to reconcile. The first is that a house as refined as Givenchy created this bomb. The second is that it is still around 24 years later.
Barbara Herman correctly ascertains its synthetic-smelling sweet fruitiness and its overdose of tuberose. She notes also the sandalwood and cedar which ground it, but overall finds it to be very chemically laden and over the top. I couldn't agree more.
This reminds me of Sand & Sable, another tuberose bomb that is truly offensive. I love tuberose and I love its use in perfume, but these two are just embarrassing.
Turin gives in only one star, naming it "killer tuberose."
Plum Peach, Neroli, Violet
Ylang, Jasmine, Tuberose, Rose, Orchid, Carnation
Sandalwood, Cedarwood, Musk, Amber, Tonka, Vanilla
It's so bad, it's almost laughable.
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I think the best word to describe AMARIGE is Heady.A timeless Classic by GIVENCHY That speaks of confidence. This smells Special so it may not be very Good for Everyone.Passionate in a Audacious way. Feminine,Rich,Seductive, Sultry,Strong,Complex and Sweet.
Passionate and Fruity top of Peach, Orange Blossom,Mandarin Orange and Plum over bouquet of floral Glamor Like Orchid,Gardenia,Rose and Jasmine finishing on notes of Sandalwood, Vanilla,Amber and Musk and a hint of Tonka Bean Ensure a Lasting experience of Undoubted Luxury.
Unfortunately AMARIGE gives me Headache and it is also in a Cloying way for me. when You wear it with multiple spray or Daytime it is too Heavy but Perfect and Impressive in EVENING and makes you feel like you are a HEROINE.It reserved for SPECIAL occasions and COLD weather but definitely test it first.
Longevity?About 7 hours on my skin.
Fifteen years before composing the transcendently beautiful tuberose soliflore Carnal Flower for Frédéric Malle, Dominique Ropion gave us Amarige. Could two essays on the same flower, by the same perfumer, be any more opposed in style, mood, and attitude than Amarige and Carnal Flower? You tell me.
Eucalyptus, coconut, and sandalwood render Carnal Flower green, crisp, and ethereal, in spite of its considerable potency. Fruits (currants among them,) powerfully sweet lactones, and heavy synthetic musks lend Amarige the olfactory tone and volume of a bugle call and side drum tattoo. If Carnal Flower is candlelight, Amarige is a Klieg light. Carnal Flower is voluptuous, while Amarige is raucous.
Amarige aims to out-Fracas Fracas, and for the most part it succeeds. Your response to it will depend on how you feel about that aim. Its manner holds no appeal for me, but I can’t fault it for that. On the other hand, I can’t exactly recommend it either, since you’re as likely to hate it as to love it. I’m left in the awkward position of giving Amarige a neutral rating, though “neutral” seems an odd term when applied to so bold, distinctive, and divisive a fragrance!
Old fashioned, sophisticated, big sunglasses mischief, affordable glamour, all of these and more...old $$$,
I LOVE it.
Dime store fabulous is my first impression, and in a good way; something in Amarige reminds me of the little girl perfume sets you could by at Woolworth's back in the day. In fact, I wore this once when teaching third grade and a little boy ran up to me and exclaimed, "you smell GOOD!" There you have it, it's been my go to when subbing in elementary school ever since.
Amarige is a big girl fragrance, too; my nose places it in the "bite me" category of zesty galbanum laced florals, à la Chamade or Mollie Parnis.
fwiw, I cannot imagine spraying Amarige, it radiates enough without being propelled into the atmosphere, so I stick to the splash EdT.
Daffodils and black pepper
I agree wholeheartedly with antiquerose who said it smells like "a big bunch of fresh jonquils." On me this smells like narcissus (daffodils, jonquils) with a touch of black pepper from start to finish as long as I wear it in cooler weather. The balance of power between the narcissus and black pepper shifts through the day with more black pepper in the evening. I love it. However, if I wear Amarige in warmer weather the narcissus burns off and the black pepper gets so intense that people around me start asking each other if they smell pepper and where is it coming from. For me, this will never be a warm weather scent, but when winter drags on and I'm longing for spring, I'll grab for my Amarige, spritz it in the air and walk through the mist.
Pros: perfect waiting for spring scent, long lasting
Cons: exceedingly strong
Truly, truly awful. Radiates out to the orbit of Neptune. Causes asthma, retching and a stampede for the exit. Frightens children and pets, ruins dinner-parties, restaurant meals and plane journeys. Could be used to eradicate vermin from silos and warehouses.
Please people, stop buying this hideous juice so Givenchy will stop making it. It's an abomination, a crime against humanity. I can't understand why any woman would want to smell like this, or why her significant other would want to smell it on her. A chemical disaster of Chernobyl proportions.
13th October, 2012 (last edited: 03rd November, 2012)
this Perfume is a migraine in a bottle. I first smelled a sample of this in a magazine and I now understand why the mag came in a bag. It's an indelible, soapy, gagging fragrance that resulted in the mag going in the trash.
The absolute worst fragrance I've ever smelled.
I didn't love this fragrance when it was first introduced, but it grew on me. Men seem to love it- I always get compliments from them when I wear it. It reminds me a little bit of bananas! It's a bit heavy, so I only tend to wear it in colder weather.
my current favourite. a solid wall of intoxicating flowers, soft, sharp, fresh, sweet,everything you could wish for packed into a nuclear flower explosion. Actually, I find it almost addictive... it reminds me of a big bunch of fresh jonquils. Love it.
I had a mini of amarige the I liked for tiny dabs, like a little accent.
However, my bottle of spray on EDT turns me off. I find a sniff near the atomizer makes me reluctant to put it on my skin, a little like sweet moth repellent, I'm sorry to say.
My mother liked the mini of Amarige & disliked the mini of Ysatis. I feel just the opposite ....I wish I had more Ysatis!
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This gets mailgned as being a huge overblown floral while for me it smells of rich, ripe late summer fruit and honey warmed by the afternoon sun. Worn in moderation I think that this is a beautiful, sensual scent. It speaks of the promise of the harvest, the peak of ripeness well worth waiting for, the maturity that comes at great cost--keep the grapes on the vine one week too long and the harvest could be lost. Yes, there are wonderful white florals that play a supporting role, but the honeyed fruit is the real star here--and it is honeyed fruit in the abstract--it does not smell of any one fruit and thus avoids the gourmand foodie note that I dislike. This is the CONCEPT of ripening fruit, ripe womanhood, not the actual thing. The promise of what that ripeness will yield is what this fragrance is about. I know that the name and the bottle, with its bridal references, are all about the wedding (although this would smell wonderful on a bride) but to me it is about the marriage--and the promise of what a lifetime of wedded bliss could bring.
A quality perfume, but it has a bit of sharpness to it that doesn't suit me. Kind of powdery. I wear it as a break from my faves sometimes.
I usually do not like white florals, my "white noise" florals, but this one has a bit more heart and soul than most. A bit of jazz saxophone in that white noise I do believe. I do get a bit of toned-down Fracas, a tiny hit of Joy, and then a sweet tobacco/honey tone.
This one gets better the longer it sits on my skin. The male in my life said it makes him want to take me out to dinner naked....
In brief exposures, this perfume smells rather nice. Sprayed on paper it lasts distinctly for four days. I own a bottle of it due to my initial attraction to its smell in small quantities. Wearing it, I feel nauseous and completely unable to eat anything. I tried to scrub it off in the shower but it won't die. I haven't eaten anything all day. I think this toxic odor could be useful as a diet aid.
Wow! This sexbomb of a juice has taught me the difference between daytime and evening fragrance like nothing else ever could. Today I accidentally drowned myself with this during a casual spritz at the Boots perfume counter and immediately knew I was in trouble. Don't get me wrong, the opening was heavenly - and LOUD! To me the opening smells of honeyed flowers - very similar to heather moorland on a hot August day, or a clover field, or linden blossom - a heady sun warmed bouquet, and beautifully done. As it develops an alluring spicyness appears alongside a warm sweet tobacco note - very very grown up and sexy! Unfortunately I'd gone out in my ripped jeans, scruffy t shirt and old sneakers and felt somewhat mortified at wearing such a loud, dressed up frag, but dressed up to the nines and with an agenda this would be perfect. I actually tried to scrub this off before continuing my shop but it didn't budge an inch and I felt I was walking around in a thermonuclear cloud of come hither. Men's heads actually turned as I went by... and looked right past me, as I couldn't possibly be the woman who was wearing that scent.
It walks a real tightrope between being grown up and sexy and downright brazen sluttishness, and at one point in it's development it stopped smelling reassuringly well made and expensive and started stinking of end of the evening desperation, which is why it only gets a neutral. Oddly it was only the sillage that smelt tawdry and cheap, the skin scent was lovely. But with a sillage monster like this, ultimately it's the sillage that counts. That moment did pass and was replaced with a smooth sweet tobacco and tuberose, but really who wants to smell of desperation even for a moment? The drydown is lovely, the sweetness tempered by green and musky notes.
I would certainly give this frag another try - applied carefully and in the right context I may well love it. It is obviously beautifully made and suits my skin chemistry (which is dry and often ruins frags by burning them off too quickly) but this is more of a weapon than a fragrance and not to be worn causally.
As already underlined Amarige is a pillar, a notorious, joyful and graceful woodsy fruity-floral based on the prominent tuberose and gardenia, with a milky synthetical kind of fluidity, the fruity undertones of orange and peach, the delicious hint of black currant and a warm and boise' dry down made of milky oil, smoky amber, sandalwood and vanillic artificial musk. The fragrance is sophisticated, versatile and with an almost gourmand fatty consistence. I agree with Off-scenter about the comparison with the following (many years later) Carnal Flower Malle by the same nose, Dominique Ropion. While Amarige, with its synthetic musk, the usage of lactone and the tasty implementation of dry fruits is an example of olfactory plasticity on the borderlines of the gourmands territories, Carnal Flower is natural, crisp and vivid in its notable individuality of elements and in its carnal aromatic crudity of those. Amarige is finally a onedimensional, well rounded, sweet, chemical fluid though delicious and sophisticated while Carnal Flower is mutable, natural and almost edible in its variegated wake. In order to close the round i have to underline that Carnal Flower is mainly based on the powerful presence of tropical tuberose (blended with eucalyptus, coconut and sandalwood) while Amarige is a blend of well balanced flowers and fruits in which the other milky woody-green elements play the role played by coconut, sandalwood and eucalyptus in Carnal Flower). Amarige is anyway a good composition, one of the most appreciated by the women all over the world for its uniqueness and easiness.
09th July, 2011 (last edited: 29th August, 2011)
I haven't had a luscious evening perfume in quite a while and had been sticking to my citrusy and/or green favorites. Then I had an evening event coming up so I bought a dress and EDT Amarige---blind! Amazingly, it is perfect for me; a woman over 40 with 1950's curves and curls. I love it so much I could swim in it. It is exactly who I want to be on an evening out: sophisticated, sensual, deep and knowing. Very French, in the end. I completely agree with Weimar27's interpretation.
I'm not very familiar with Givenchy fragrances as of yet, but this fragrance is certainly very memorable and beautiful and is one of friend's signature scents.
Like most people have mentioned here, this is a very strong floral fragrance. It's strong in an elegant and sophisticated fashion rather than being offensive and "in your face".
The scent is rich and spicy with subtle hints of fruit - rather oriental and unique. The notes of orange blossom and peach are quite prominent, making it quite sweet and feminine.
I absolutely love that my friend wears this scent well, it blends perfectly with her skin chemistry and makes this classic fragrance smell exotic, sensual and very seductive. However, on myself Amarige becomes quite powdery, not terrible, but not as beautiful as when others wear this scent.
I suggest that you try this before you buy to see whether it matches your chemistry.
Classic, heady, grown-up feminine floral with an elegant touch of fruit and some soft spice. The tuberose is beautiful and the peach is a delicious complement. Apply with a light hand because it's got that 80s/90s bigness!
For evening wear in summer and early autumn. Joyful without being hysterical -- graceful but confident. I agree with Weimar, it has a definite 50s feel to it. It has something in common with Fracas, I think -- it's the sheer volume of this plume of florals. It's big. If you're looking for something quiet and tame, this is not it!
I enjoyed a sample of this very much, and had it been more obviously "me" I would have picked up a bottle -- if I see it discounted somewhere, I'll snatch it up and start channeling my inner debutante.
I sniffed this in Macy's one day and instantly fell in love, I didn't spray any as I knew I had seen it at Sephora so I went to Sephora and asked for a sample....I already had 4 perfumes tried on that day so I had no other place to sample it.
I unfortunatly tried it on right before bed and didn't realize it was quite so powerful! I only sprayed on spritz on my wrist and got into bed my husband started complaining about and awful smell....well that smell was me so I got out of bed and showered. My husband can stand Amarige if I apply it lightly (I tolerate it better if applied lightly too!) though Amarige will never be a favorite of his on me....that will always belong to Pink Sugar.
I have the book Perfumes The Guide and get a chuckle out of Luca's review.....he states in part that Amarige is perceptable in parts per billion! I do agree with him, this is powerful stuff!
My son had the day off school today so we went on a sniffing adventure and while in Macy's I once again happened upon Amarige and just had to sniff the bottle.....Yuuuuuuuuum!!!! Funny because I'm an Oriental freak and usuakly HATE florals...Amarige is about as floral as you can get but is truely likable on me. One day I may invest in a small bottle (I still have some of my sample) as I know it will last forever due to my applying in only miniscule dabs...I spray one spray on a Q-tip then dab on to my wrists. :0)
16th March, 2011 (last edited: 17th March, 2011)
I actually wore this fragrance quite a bit about 15 years ago. It was one of my first loves. I bought a new bottle only to realize how much my interpretation of what is beautiful has changed. The fragrance is still pretty, but it's a sledgehammer! Just too much, even when applied very lightly. Friends and family who are sensitive to perfume probably wanted to kill me when I wore it, EVERY day. I'm probably lucky to have survived :)
This morning I decided to play the fragrance samples version of Russian roulette, in which I close my eyes and pull out a vial from my box of (too many) samples, and I pour it on me without thinking twice. It could go off like a loaded gun and distress/embarrass me all day long (as did the super-skanky Vivienne Westwood Boudoir on a day when I had to take my car to the repair shop and the looks on the faces of the male mechanics--well!). But the risk is all part of the excitement for this perfumista.
I have no idea where the vial came from, and the name Amarige struck fear into me, having witnessed the erstwhile gf dispose of a nearly full bottle with some uncharacteristic disgust and vehemence. (She gave me a "don't ask" look, so I didn't. I figured it had some past association with another party.)
But still I splashed it on. It was interesting at first, an old school 80s/90s style Big Perfume with monster sillage, and I confess I still retain some fondness for that genre. Although I'm not the floral type, I must say I rather liked it. The tuberose is what stood out for me, some fruit and woods as well. I was beginning to look on eBay to find the going price for Amarige when, about an hour after application, some strange metamorphosis occurred.
I ran out of Pine-Sol a couple of weeks ago, so why am I smelling it? Why is that smell coming from . . . ME? Then it turned plastic/metallic/fishy and finally settled on smelling like rotten vegetables. This isn't the first time a tuberose fragrance has done this to me; L'Artisan Tubereuse did something similar, only that fragrance had rather weak sillage and, mercifully, went away rather quickly. Amarige, unfortunately, is a different story. I'm afraid I'm stuck with the smell for a while as it isn't washing off too willingly.
I couldn't understand why the gf, herself a true perfumista, would trash a bottle of Amarige with such indignation unless there was some story behind it. The reason might be quite simple: She really, really hated it.
White Gardenia Red Rose Succulent red berries Orchid delectable Peaches
Spicy Carnations and Woods makes me imagine a 1957 Parisien Cafe with fire red walls Abstract Fernand Leger paintings on the wall Having lunch with Audrey Hepburn Jean Seberg Brigette Bardot Simone Signoret. downstairs plays
jazz where all the chic Beatnicks hangout mixing with high class Sophisticates. This Maybe released in the 1990's but has a 50's sensibillity.
23rd August, 2010 (last edited: 09th October, 2010)
I like this but i love Amarige Mariage.
On me all i can smell are fruits, the lovely notes in the dry down are completely lost to my nose.
It's a pleasant but demur fragrance which fails to excite me.
On me the projection is average not at all strong and certainly not overwhelming, on the contrary i was underwhelmed.
A great women's perfume - a classic IMO. One of the most distinctive, elegant and best in recent years that I could see might get very mixed reviews. Very potent and assertive but still 100% feminine - a powerhouse that makes you think it comes from the 1980s, but I was surprised to find out it came out in the 90s. Was very commonly used about 10-15 years ago in London, and I still regularly come across women wearing it now.
One of the great tragedies in my fragrance diary! I smelled this scent on someone and was instantly in love with it!!! To the point that I walked up to a total stranger and asked what she was wearing and told her how amazing it was.
I practically broke land speed records to get to the local store to check it out. Fortunately, after a few mistakes in my younger days, I knew better than to simply plonk down the money and run. I used the tester and asked for a sample. Sadly, this amazing scent turned into something along the lines of Raid or some other vile smell on my skin. It just doesn't work with my natural chemistry or whatever. To this day, I know Amarige anywhere and I love it...on anyone but me.
i like the tuberose note in this. good for daytime wear, i think it can be worn best in summer or autumn.
a frag that lifts the mood