I've sampled this at a fragrance counter. Going in to smell it, I thought I'd hate it--a reviewing friend of mine called it something for a woman in the Vitorian era who's a librarian. Not something to be charged about, I was guessing.
But smelled it I did, and largely because I love that comment on it and all negative reviews--they always make me want to smell whatever it is so that I can see what the reviewer means and get to make up my own mind. So I smelled it, and it rocks. I'm sure a man can pull it off, but I visionize (allow me to make the word) it on a woman. It's a very calm and aristocratic scent, with dryness, chalkiness, a peaceful feeling, and luxurious comfort scent. It really knocked me out. I see it best on a punky hipster sassy woman because it would be a total twist--she'd be hot and brash, but Aubepine Acacia on her would be the aura of the social stratosphere, and it would powerfully make a strong and very sexy atmosphere for her, doubling her hotness. This is one for my next girlfriend, I've thought.
I'd invite myself to wear it too, for sure, but I'd want it on her to invite some frolicking by me and the subsequent being at play in the fields of the bed.
As to what it smells like, I'd say it has some dry pedals of white flowers, some very un-sharp woods, and the smell of something made hot in the summer sun like white paint, plastic, or metal. Maybe the smell of a very hot car hood after a long drive, maybe like the hot smelling part of Thierry Mugler's Cologne, without the old eau de cologne associations. It also seems to share some non-citrus, non-rose qualities with Acqua di Parma Colonia (NOT assoluta).
It was a long time ago that I did this sniffing test, but I loved it on my skin, and I kept the paper sample card with it beside my desk for a long time to smell it when I needed to. To me it commanded my attention and hasn't left my brain since. A scent tour de force, but truly something I'll want on an elle-devil when I find her.
--Chris