Yes, the opening blast is a fresh bergamot, whiffs of lemon and a good load of mint - brightness galore? Yes initially, but soon a gentle black pepper and a woodsy note add a touch of spice.
The drydown adds an iris as the floral contribution, but a ginger tone together with touches of a cistus impression continues the line of brightness. There are a lot of green moments, mainly sage and a touch of a grassy undertone.
A darker and again spicier base combines labdanum - quite weak though - with a sweetish anise background.
I get moderate sillage, good projection and five hours of longevity on my skin.
This agreeable scent for cooler summer days stars in a nice and fresh manner, but the later stages are characterised by a lack of vividness and a certain generic nature of some of the ingredients. Pleasant it is but not much more, with a somewhat disappointing performance. Overall 2.75/5.
This review is based on Eau de Toilette concentration.
The initial blast of Mandragore contains a lot of bergamot, very refreshing and energetic. The citrus soon hides away as a supporting role and reveals a combination of anise, mint and ginger. It's green, fresh, reviving, zesty and sparkling. I was overwhelmed by this phase as this combination of spices which is usually thick, actually delivers such an unusually translucent scent.
However, this phase doesn't hold up very long and it soon was taken over by a spicy and earthy scent. The spices are still the same as above, but no longer freshly picked. They're dried and their ultimate spiciness are sublimed. Interestingly the fragrance remains ethereal even at this stage.
Unfortunately, Mandragore turns bland and watery afterwards, and loses its vivacity and strength. It was soft at the beginning and now it stays extremely close to skin. It dies after about 4 or 5 hours on me, which is weak among those I tried from Annick Goutal.
Mandragore, in contrary to the prune bottle and the mysterious name, is actually green to my nose. I appreciate the aromatic and spicy stages towards the beginning very much. However, these interesting stages doesn't last long (about 1 hour) and the fragrance itself either, which implies frequent reapplication to me. I'm curious if EDP would suit me better.
Nontheless, this should not hold you back from trying it. This green aromatic fragrance, lasting or not, has a very interesting twist that can hardly be described, but to be experienced by oneself.
Mandragore is a disappointingly thin citrus-woods concoction with a touch of herbal elements. There is a nice initial accord of bergamot with ginger, which is quickly joined by some green, woody aspects, and the show is over within an hour.
2/5
All I get is a generic oceanic woody, like thousands of other drug store scents over the past twenty years. I feel like the boy who pointed out the emperor was wearing no clothes.
Turin called it a "bergamot violet," although there seems to be no violet in it. I do get the lemony bergamot, but none of the spices, no anise, no ginger. The iris, mint and pepper are simply not there.
Overall effect is that of a poor and dismal, vastly unattractive concoction. I am amazed that so many reviewers sense so many things in it that I do not, especially those who give it a positive review.
Definitely a sniff first, don't blind buy scent.
I'm really not sure what to make of Mandragore: it is a green ambrette fragrance, which, on my skin, is almost identical to Chanel No 18. It's difficult to say how these two fragrances differ; however, I love No 18, but I'm not overly fond of Mandragore. Not a perfume I would buy again