A decent gourmand scented with cocoa notes (I guess it's coffee, but to me smells more like toasted cocoa beans), tobacco, vanilla and aldehydes. On the base, a shady veil of dusty suede. Not bad honestly: it’s sweet but not sweetish or cloying, rather with a pleasant and mature sort of “dusty”, elegant kind of sweetness. Gentle floral and fruity notes are well counter-balanced by the tobacco-leather base. Pleasant and fairly compelling, although not the most original scent around, as several names come to mind (think of any recent tobacco scent, just a bit sweeter and more graceful; or think of pretty much any feminine fruity-floral scent and imagine to add a drop of leather-tobacco darkness). Antoine Lie did so worse than this, so here’s my mild encouraging enthusiasm for this work. “Bravo”!
I like this one, but not buy a full bottle like. I really like the orange blossom and rose notes. The neroli note is very noticeable also. Nice summer and spring gem. 7.5/10
Marshmallow & diapers. Meh.
I expected more from this one. I imagined that i`d start innocent, delicate, and end in a dark, smoky, leathery base, but instead what i got is a big floral oriental on me.
It`s not so distant from a mainstream fragrance of Jean Paul Gaultier. Divin Enfant has a great resemblance with Jean Paul Gaultier, due to the fact that both fragrances relies on woody honeyed amber and orange flower. The difference is that Divin Enfant adds more complexity to the game and increase the sweatness by putting a marshmalow note at the top that gives you a sugary aroma to the flower and amber accord. When it starts to develop, the scent goes in a soft suede and creamy mocha direction, nothing so dark or daring.
It`s not bad, but it`s not great either. A strange creature, that doesn`t seem childish or divine.
If fragrance can be said to have a "shape," then Divin' Enfant can readily be called a shape-shifter. One certainly can't accuse it of being linear. One problem, though: after testing it a half dozen times, one still can't be sure what "shape" it will be when it emerges from the bottle.
This was not a purchase I had intended. Rather, an eBay seller had listed several largish Perfumed Court niche decants as a lot, and as I badly wanted one of them, I bid for (and won) the whole group. There is some quality in the whole self-mythology surrounding Etat Libre d'Orange that I find off-putting (if nonetheless fascinating), and I can make the same observation about the few other ELdO scents I've sampled. Every time I wear one of them, I simultaneous like and dislike it, and all the while find it difficult to define exactly what I'm smelling. Such is the perversity of Antoine Lie, creator of the notorious Sécrétions Magnifiques, and I'm not surprised to see that he's the nose behind Divin' Enfant.
I completely understand the conflicting and self-conflicting remarks by the previous reviewers. Divin' Enfant can feel like a heavy oriental fragrance, can come on with the sweetness of the orange blossom or rose, get musky and murky, shift into a glowing amber scent, then turn into a bitter, skanky leather fragrance. I can't really say that this kaleidoscope of notes actually works together; rather, the different elements all seem to fight each other for control.
It is difficult, too, to make any concrete observations about its sillage and longevity. On the average, it lasts about four hours, during which time its sillage fluctuates considerably. It seems to go away entirely, then comes back to slap you in the face when you least expect it.
There is nothing divine or infant-like about Divin' Enfant. As I've said, there are aspects of the fragrance that I find very compelling (i.e., the orange blossom and the amber), but there are so many--including its thick oiliness on the skin--that I find sufficiently unlikeable to eliminate DE from any further consideration.
Given the volatility of the fragrance, though, I can actually imagine it working quite nicely for others.
The great switcheroo. Starts off with a lovely neroli and rose mixture and gradually turns into a screaming sweet leather monster. Antoine Lie is an alchemist. Not sure about the finish here -- I wish it had gone in another direction really.
Neroli with a sweet musky base and a touch of leather tanning fluids. Smells a little like a coffee gourmand at times. Not bad.
Orange blossom. End of story. Not fresh flowers but the perfumey scent of orange blossom water used in pastries. Powdery and sweet enough to give you cavities. I shouldn't like it but I do.