It was my beloved grandmother's fragrance and i haven't been smelling it for long time, since when she departed leaving on me a sweet, sweet memory of her. All i remember is that was a classically costructed fragrance with a lot of citrus and flowers in composition and with a very woodsy, incensey and sweet final wake. I remember a sort of prickliness and smokiness in the smell that over all was very green-boise', floral, incensey and a bit vintage. An olfactory piece of my sweet past and for this reason i tribute at it a thumbs up.
27th September, 2011 (last edited: 30th September, 2011)
GOCCE DI NAPOLEON does not, as its name might suggest, smell like pure, uncut testosterone but is instead a unique floriental perfume with initially dominant notes of hyacinth and rhubarb—or reasonable facsimiles! There is definitely a strong hyacinth scent and a rhubarbish green yet ever so tangy and crunchy quality in the opening of this composition—whatever may really account for these scents, I like them a lot. GdiN becomes more oriental and dark in the drydown, with diminished florality and the emergence of what appears to be pepper and possibly a touch of leather along with some sort of dark wood.
What I do not find here at all is anything at all very sweet: and no vanilla, in particular. Although the opening seems somewhat feminine to me, the drydown becomes far more masculine, as though Napoleon arrived home after one of his military adventures to usurp Josephine of her domestic authority. The servants suddenly turn all of their attention to the little emperor, ignoring the fair lady of the house. I like both the Josephine and the Napoleon phases of GOCCI DI NAPOLEON and would happily wear this perfume, if I had a bottle.
01st July, 2011 (last edited: 09th July, 2011)
Extremely sharp and peppery opening - sneeze-inducing ( this hardly ever happens to me). Green and mossy tones in the heart, dries down to a classic male fougere-note.
Probably better on a man than on a woman, this highly original peppery start of the fragrance brought tears to my eyes - not because of its beauty, but because of the fact that it made me sneeze... - and - always makes me sneeze (on re-appliction... I gave it several tries on several days). "Tears of Napoleaon" taken literally - what else could you want?