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Much--perhaps too much--has been made about the de Nicolaï/Guerlain connection. Nevertheless, I'm coming to realize that Patricia de Nicolaî's scents share a common quirk with those of her ancestors: The fragrances choose their wearers, not vice-versa. I would so love to love Maharadjah, but it refuses to return that love.
I have now tested it twice, months apart, with the same result. Its opening is one of the most gorgeous I've ever experienced, dark, plummy, mysterious--sort of a kinder, gentler analogue of Kenzo Jungle l'Elephant. The fragrance grows even more glorious as a note resembling burnt brown sugar mixed with cinnamon kicks in. And then . . . the anti-climax.
I see various references to Maharadjah's excellent longevity among the reviews, but that hasn't been my experience in either test. I share the heartbreak that vintage*red remarks. Within fifteen minutes, it diminishes into a skin scent, still very lovely, that I can detect if I keep my nose firmly pressed against my wrist and forearm.
Oh, that I could stay the fleeting moment! But in the end, Maharadjah is too ephemeral on me to warrant the purchase of a full bottle.
01st June, 2010