Perfume Reviews

Reviews of Mitsouko Eau de Parfum by Guerlain

Total Reviews: 205
Trial of EDT from mini-bottle of set, unknown year. Scent was nice initially, faded off rapidly, fading scent was nice; may try in stronger formula in future.
07th October, 2020
So sad, this was a perfume I loved many years ago and wanted to sample again - and I can't smell the beautiful peach and mossy notes at all. It just smells like wet towels. Or maybe it's my nose. But this is not at all lovely, in fact it is rather nauseating, and I feel so sorry for all the people who expect the former great classic scent and end up with this miserable parody.
18th July, 2020
For me the best way to enjoy Mitsouko, whether vintage or current formulation, is to wear the extract. It’s the smoothest, prettiest version of this peachy chypre and it won’t leave you scratching your head like some of the other incarnations can. The challenge of the EDP and EDT comes from that distinct “peach skin” accord of the opening notes. It’s an abstraction, an idea of a natural smell recreated with persicol, oakmoss and other chemicals that will have varied reactions. Some swear they smell a photorealistic peach plucked from the tree. Others like myself smell something both bitter and shrill, like champagne laced with strychnine. But the extract is different. It’s for Goldilocks. Somehow the peach comes off sweeter and golden, like it is linked to the milky warmth of sandalwood in the basenotes. This Mitsouko is the one that immediately validates her status as legendary because she is such a timeless, unique and addictive concoction with layers of interest and complexity. It is easy to imagine a person of 1919, 1960, 1989...etc. being faithful to this bottle and wishing that it never change. That isn’t to say the EDP and EDT don’t have their own devotees, but it will depend upon how you react to that opening accord. When people talk about classic perfumery, French-style, abstract composition, they’re talking about Mitsouko. It’s the reference chypre, the Mona Lisa of Grasse. The unlikely to be pretty Bergamot, Patchouli, Cistus and Oakmoss accord tinted and Guerlain-ified with fruit and flowers. A perfectly judged, impossible to duplicate, enduring, mysterious masterpiece.
14th October, 2019
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This is reviewing a 50ml refill bottle of the EDP I bought online in August 2019. I don't know what the edition is, yet I am quite sure this is one of the most recent formulations, because yes, it is different from the formulae I have always known.

I will hasten to add that it smells wonderful... So it's not *bad*... just *different*.

Brilliant, nose-prickling aldehydes slowly evanesce to reveal a head of bergamot, and possibly delicate accents of sweet orange, a phantom lemon, petitgrain and neroli to create a brilliant citrus head. And the famous fruity, dry peach, kissed with a discreet anise.

To my nose, this new edition has more musky quality, with perceptible deermusk, civet and ambergris (all synthetic, I'm quite sure). Being a big animalic fan, I like this quality.

In years past, it would be at this moment that I smelled a certain urinaceous quality-- likely castoreum-- smelling for all the world like deer urine in a Texas cedar forest, its floor covered in moody, mulching autumn leaves. I'm really not getting that note here now... the peach/citrus is more juicy and "present".

To my nose, the spicy qualities have also been ratcheted down and made more linear, less "3D"; I suspect the famous clove note of the classic formula also had to be refomulated here, as the barky, non-sweet cinnamon is nearly as prominent now as the clove.

I am getting very little floralcy here, truth told, yet I am picking up on a salty Play-Doh heliotrope, girded with the French thyme "medicinal" or "Band-Aids" note that some describe. I'm not sure I'm getting any rose or lilac at all, and the result is, this formula smells considerably more masculine than ever, beginning to approach the brassy warmth of, say, KNIZE TEN. The pencil-ly cedar note is more discreet now, too.

The absence of oakmoss means that this formula is not quite as rounded, fungal, darkly sweetish and Art Deco-fusty as the old mixture used to be; it is also less "melancholy", as this perfume is so often famously described. Our forlorn geisha waiting for her British beau seems to have cheered up a bit, clambered up onto her tatami sandals and put on some Shiseido tangerine-colored lipstick.

And yet, I cannot melodramatically decree that MITSOUKO has been "ruined" here; the hand that has blended this is obviously expert and of the highest skill. This is still some fine, fine French perfume. In fact, some might say that this new EDP is more "wearable" than it ever was, more of a tous-les-jours candidate today, and not quite the distant and difficult "monument" she has always been. She might even be more "lovable" now (yet still removed from the sweet 'n' naughty hooker-with-a-heart that Rochas FEMME is). I cannot fault this *jus*, and she actually may find more modern lovers in this new guise.

Verdict: significantly tangier and juicier than earlier formulae; musky animalic notes more "present" now, though less urinaceous; very little perceptible floralcy and overall more masculine aura; less sweet and funky/fusty base.

Still gorgeous, bold, golden-glowing and compelling.

(UPDATE---->) Okay, now I'm getting the lilac. Surprisingly, it is not a head or heart note, but rather comes out to play in the late development of the EDP, after the spices have settled down! Mingled with an obvious iris, it smells both powdery, pastel purpley, and rubbery, like wet latex paint. Intriguing!
10th August, 2019 (last edited: 11th August, 2019)
Peachy, musky and mossy. Maybe just a touch powdery and pissy. That is my thoughts. Not bad smelling or impossibly dated. Addictive and delightful. Classy and sophisticated. Complex.
05th July, 2019
Zowiee Show all reviews
United States
Adore this historic scent. I just love this fragrance, and I make sure my wife always has a bottle!
28th January, 2019
Woman in the Dunes by Hiroshi Teshigahara 1964
Kobo Abe (novel)
21st January, 2019
Mitsouko (1919) is not just a great perfume, but also a very important one. Loved by generations and almost passed down like an heirloom from its fans to their children, Mitsouko is one of the most often-discussed classic Guerlains in existence, picking up the nickname "Mitzy" by it's admirers. I feel like a century after its creation, Mitsouko can only really be appreciated outside of these faithful fans for the history, context, and legacy it left behind for most rank and file people. Folks who enjoy perfume in the 21st century will have a difficult time understanding the appeal of Mitsouko, if only because it is of a style effectively extinct in mainstream or designer perfumery, and that style is of the chypre. Jicky (1889), L'Heure Bleue (1912), and the later Shalimar (1925) were all more or less in the fougère style, or semi-oriental fougère in the case of Shalimar, but Mitsouko was not part of Jacques Guerlain's usual "compound building" technique of basing perfumes on other perfumes, or building off of partial structures from past works, thus is unrelated to them or "Guerlinade". Instead, Mitsouko was a thoroughly new creation from the ground up, in an emerging style Jacques likely wanted to play with, and a style proving quite popular with women, becoming universally popular for much of the 20th century. It wasn't until the advent of aromachemicals that classic perfume genres declined in favor of cleaner and less-assertive compositions, with the restriction of substances upon which chypres were mostly based making chypres too difficult to create; the style had simply fallen from grace far enough to not make it worth the research anyway. In the meantime, the fruity-floral mannerisms and brisk cistus/oakmoss backbone of Mitsouko inspired countless perfumes to follow, and like most early 20th century feminine Guerlains, was also used extensively by male dandies, even being a favorite of esteemed actor Charlie Chaplin. The origins of the name "Mitsouko" is up to debate, but most sources point to it being derived from the name of the heroine in Claude Farrère's novel "La bataille (The Battle), set in Japan during the Russo-Japanese War, and telling of a secret affair between a British Navy Officer and one "Mitsouko," the wife of Fleet Admiral Baron Tõgõ Heihachirõ. As the story goes, both the officer and the Admiral went off to war together, and Mitsouko waited at home for the return of the survivor, with whom her romance would continue on. I think the association with this story alone managed to sell considerable units, since the Guerlain advertising was often hinted at it.

The smell of Mitsouko is designed somewhat to be a compliment to the previous L'Huere Bleue, which is why they share the same bottle design. L'Heure Bleue is meant to symbolize waiting for love at the onset of night, while Mitsouko is meant to symbolize the returning of said love after a battle, representing something of a symbolic beginning and conclusion of a story arc. L'Heure Bleue is mostly a rich, powdery floral fougère, which comes on strong then fades into sweet warmth. Mitsouko is the equal opposite of this development, and represents a fragrance that literally reverse fades into view by being quiet in the opening, then gradually ratcheting up presence until the complex and sharp chypre base provides the climax. Mitsouko opens transparent, with light fruity top notes of peach, mandarin, bergamot, neroli, and lemon. The smell is so very familiar at the onset because most of us have encountered some of the women's perfumes ranging from drugstore to boutique perfumer that have attempted its emulation. The middle slowly materializes with rose, jasmine, ylang-ylang, and lilac, with a spicy clove note to sensually bind them all. By the time the base finally arrives, it's pretty difficult to tell notes apart, as the fruity floral top and middle collapse into a very complex and blended chypre base, with oakmoss and cistus labdanum being the only two really noticeable players outside some musk, amber, and sandalwood. Not quite Guerlinade, but still clearly over-engineered like most Jacques Guerlain pefumes. Some of the most cherished classics actually come across as hot takes on Mitsouko's finish in hindsight, so that deja vu comes back again for another round in my mind. Unlike whatever random Revlon or Coty everyone's Aunt Maude wore, Mitsouko has a certain refined air of a true sophisticate in its DNA, and doesn't reveal all sides of its structure in every single wear. Performance varies on concentration but more on that later. Mitsouko is not a casual fragrance, nor was ever meant to be, so wear it on special occasions where something as deeply textured or mysterious as Mitsouko feels warranted. Being perhaps one of the finest examples of a dead genre makes Mitsouko feel a tad more antiquated than some of its peers of the day, since Shalimar still remains in the public consciousness thanks to modern celebrity endorsement, plus the older turn-of-the-century Guerlains seem to more closely-resemble genres experiencing resurgence in modern prestige perfume. Mitsouko by contrast just sort of sits pretty with its hands in its lap as the darling precursor of the mid 20th century's favorite feminine style, which does more to make it an anachronism than the rest, but at least it isn't powered by aldehydes like Chanel No. 5 (1921).

I love chypres, but I also can't rightfully lead anyone to sample this without first making it clear that Mitsouko has weathered age the least-gracefully of all the classic Guerlains. Naturally, all moss was limited to ridiculously small levels by IFRA after 2011, and from 2006 to 2011, a blend of oakmoss and treemoss had to be used to reduce the amount of skin sensitizers naturally occurring in oakmoss by itself. This is why most classic chypres outside of the big sellers are discontinued, and the ones profitable enough to keep on the shelves in spite of themselves have been reformulated sometimes to the point of being unrecognizable by fans of the original releases. Contrary to that, a lot of research money has been dumped into the preservation of Mitsouko, with low-atranol "fractured" versions of oakmoss using molecular chemistry being substituted by Guerlain house perfumer Thierry Wasser for the natural stuff. It's this same reconstituted oakmoss that also exists in modern Habit Rouge (1965), and makes Guerain chypres a far better sight and more authentic than most other chypre survivors in modern times, but still markedly different from vintage since oakmoss is such a linchpin to the chypre accord itself. Other Guerlains from the era like L'Heure Bleue or Shalimar rely more on powdery vanillic tonka bases or oriental elements, so they have survived in forms much closer to their original state than Mitsouko. Regardless of whether one seeks vintage or not, Mitsouko is still a large perfume by modern standards, so only fans of slow unfurling dry downs should seek it, with old colognes being brighter, current eau de toilettes having a more floral character, and parfum extrait having the deepest base presence/longest wear. I really like Mitsouko, and even if it's among the harder classic Guerlains for a man to pull off, I'd still flaunt it like I just don't care (because I don't), however I also cannot in good conscience call this unisex. Classic chypre fans consider Mitsouko one of several holy grails for good reason, but for everyone else, it is more of a historical journey than a practical perfume, answering the question of why "Mom's old Avon" smells the way it does. Well, now we have our answer: it wanted to be Mitsouko. Since 1919, a lot perfumes have wanted to be Mitsouko, even future Guerlain ones. Everyone just wanted to be Mitsouko, but there can only ever be one Mitsouko, and she still patiently waits for us to return home from our battles, so she can give us her love. Thumbs up!
01st December, 2018 (last edited: 03rd December, 2018)
Now and then I’m down in the dumps, worried about the sad state of the world. Whenever that happens, Mitsouko is a perfect antidote. Art, history, culture, timeless style — all perfectly represented here. Just one or two sprays, and it’s like the feeling I get in fine art museums. You know you’re in the presence of genius. As with all fine arts, it’s likely to take some time to really figure out and “get” Mitsouko. Keep trying, it’s very much worth the effort. Highest recommendation.
25th July, 2018
There's much to love here, however it's not something I enjoy wearing. As I have two bottles of vintage juice, I find that in my vaporizer, my home smells amazing. Bit expensive for a home scent, but everyone who comes in is blown away by how beautiful my home smells.
25th May, 2018
It's been about 10 or 12 years since I first tried Mitsouko, back when my Dillard's used to carry all the classic Guerlains. I didn't love it. I didn't hate it. But I didn't really like it, either. I did groove on the initial brightness of it, the juicy peachiness interwoven with citrus, but then after the first few minutes it devolved into something more harsh, yet at the same time kind of vague. I figured I just wasn't sophisticated enough to appreciate it, and yet I never revisited it.

Until recently, when I was gifted with a bottle of the EDP, which turns out to be from 2014, supposedly a very good reformulation year. The peachy/citrusy opening still really sparkles, and the middle sings a very fine spicy (cinnamon? clove?) tune on my skin for about an hour. But after that it just falls off the cliff and muddles itself into a big ol' bunch of fusty/dusty/musty-ness, and not in a way that I would normally champion, like, say, Joy’s symphonic florals turned to rot or Djedi's mix of damp-basement and lemony roses or Youth Dew's balsamic orange blossom weirdness. Here, and at least on my skin and to my nose, Mitsouko is kind of a mess—an expensive, beautifully made, historically significant mess, to be sure. But still a mess.

The good news is, if you love it, it will last forever. It's still wafting from the T-shirt I had on when I spritzed it two days ago.
22nd April, 2018 (last edited: 07th May, 2018)
Mitsouko is made with superb ingredients and smells very sophisticated.

I associate this smell with cigars and pipe tobacco. No need to be scared with it being peachy and feminine.
09th March, 2018 (last edited: 08th February, 2020)
It’s not bad, but I feel bad for not liking it. The opening with bergamot is interesting, just like Shalimar. Then it’s a bit dull...

OK, OK. After reading your reviews, I guess I'll have to try it again.

The vintage Parfum miniature I have (from the 90’s) is way more interesting and make this review go from a “meh” neutral to positive. The bergamot is less present and goes towards a beautiful floral mix. Very potent.
28th December, 2017 (last edited: 02nd March, 2018)
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Say my name !!!! Mitsouko !
Wonderful !I like edt ,edp not good smell.
20th December, 2017
What wondrous story
Making past seem like present
Stirs in your bottle?
25th November, 2017
I bought this blindly and the Eau de Toilette came in the mail a few days ago.

When I opened the gold box and took the elegant bottle out I was excited.

Then I sprayed it on me. It instantly reminded me of my late Aunt Serena who lived from 1921-2011. Which was both good and bad.

This scent is unlike anything I've ever liked. My first impression was that I hated it. My preferences are for notes such as opoponox, sandalwood, cedar, cypress, and bergamot. My favorite scents are Chanel Bois des Iles, Diptypque Tam Dao, Tom Ford Noir and Gucci II. I took a "risk" by purchasing Mitsouko.

The problem with me, personally, is that I was convinced this smelled like my late Aunt Serena. I loved her, but I did not want to smell like her. So I contacted her son and asked him if his mother ever wore Mitsouko.

His answer was related to something that will not sound at all politically correct but it is the truth.

Aunt Serena was married to Uncle Luke, who served in the US Army Infantry during WWII. He fought in the most brutal battles in the Pacific, both on Leyte Island and Okinawa against Japanese forces. He saw the worst of war. He hated the enemy.

So according to Serena and Luke's son Tom, his mom would NEVER wear any perfume that sounded Japanese. My apologies for having to communicate something which sounds prejudiced to modern ears. Yes it is, but it must be understood in connection to those who experienced WWII. There are still some old people who won't drive German cars, or people in China who cannot forgive Japan, or Japanese who cannot forgive the atomic bombs. We must all repair our bonds but we also must try and see how historic hates metastasized into wars.

So now I know my Aunt Serena never wore Mitsouko. And after learning of this, I reapplied the scent, forgot the association, and found that Mitsouko needs time to appreciate.

It is frankly old-fashioned, reminding me of opening up an old box of newspapers in an attic, smelling the inside of piano, entering an old house where a woman just dusted herself with powder and went into the kitchen and sliced up a peach.

The scent sticks and sticks and will not go away. It dries down into something perceptible and ruminative. It makes me think of the piano score from the Anastasia (1958) written by Alfred Newman and starring Ingrid Bergman.
21st October, 2017 (last edited: 08th September, 2018)
I read another fragrantica review about Guerlains, which propose an explaination why this truly legendary brand not as popular as it was: they're not those over-the-counter 5-minutes-fame perfumes, they're mean to be take-home and appreciated in a longer time frame. Most people don't have the patience now.

Now that I've experienced mitsouko, I can't agree more with this review.

First time I tried mitsouko at counter, the sales person burst into laugh when they saw the grimace I made: the opening is a bit off-putting. It has a rather medicinal note which appears in a lot of old Guerlains, and I still don't know what caused it. I also get that inky/wet oakmoss tone on top. The rest of it is soft-fresh spice smell, not sweet, not warm, not harsh.

I just let it sit on my arms and went home, planning to scrub it off as soon as I can. By one accident sniff I was captured: it turns into something divine. The only note I can pick out is peach, not in a realistic way——frankly speaking, a lot of realistic peach only make me feel they tried too hard——but rather...lazy and comforting, not unlike a beauty lies blithely on the bed of aforementioned spicy accords, as if she did not know how charming she is.

So Guerlain teachs me a lesson: never judge a perfume by its opening, especially old classics like mitsouko.
18th October, 2017
Every time I try this out, it smells like spicy plastic and I can't detect the florals at all. I'm mainly smelling a more peppery version of Irish Spring with something else I can't identify muddying up the smell. It certainly smells expensive, but it's also highly stuffy and moldy. It's what I imagine an old dowager's mink smells like. I love most Guerlains, but this one hasn't worked for me in any season. After an hour, I have to get it off of me.
11th October, 2017
The scent I want to be buried in.

Each evening, come rain or shine, I run with my whippet through the enormous walnut orchards by my house, as the sun slowly sets. During the fall (my favorite season), the walnuts ripen and finally shed their skins, and the fruit drops to the ground. The skins, the shells, the still-warm earth, and the fading leaves on the trees--all of this is closely reincarnated in Mitsouko. The perfume's dark, velvety oak moss and its walnut-skin bite of piquant green create in me an almost melancholic introspection that suits my artistic nature down to a T. It's autumnal tone and notes that mimic moist, rain-soaked dirt speak to me in the same way that black and white films and photographs do. Its beauty is an aching, longing kind that will never be totally fulfilled, and it is all the more lovely because of this. Somehow Mitsouko seems to find the commonalities between the human body and the natural world, all the while speaking to a deep, nameless emotion that those who have lived long enough, share.

-Review for the vintage PdT
01st October, 2017 (last edited: 09th February, 2021)
I bought Mitsouko perfume bottles 15ml.& 7ml. This is classic and very beautiful smell. Perfume had flower,wood smell but Eau de Toilette had green smell sharply. I don't like EdT.
27th June, 2017 (last edited: 02nd July, 2017)
This one I like, depending on my mood. To me it is a woody, slightly spicy, floral. No one note stands out. They are all blended together. It is a somewhat monotone fragrance.

I have learned to love this. Perhaps it is all the sampling of other perfumes, since purchasing this one, that I have come to appreciate its beauty.
11th June, 2017 (last edited: 16th April, 2018)
This one crept up on me. I got myself a 2 ml sample of the EdT because I wanted to explore some of the classic Guerlain fragrances. I did not expect to really love it, but it did sound interesting, and I thought it might help me understand what a chypre smells like.

On the first try I did not even know whether I liked it or not. Compared to most of my (rather Chanel heavy) fragrance collection, this one smelled a little odd, a bit difficult, slightly off even. It did, however, smell interesting, not generic, and certainly not boring, and somehow I kept going back to that sample to try some more.

It took me a few wears to distinguish and label the different notes I smelled. I definitely get peach. It's not a bright and sunny peach, but more of a mysterious dark peach. I also get a little of the jasmine and some subtle woods in the base, but neither of these notes are the star of the show.

The real defining note for me is what I've been lovingly calling the Guerlain funk. In the case of Mitsouko, it's a stale-flower-vase-water funk; vegetal, fuzzy and cool. It gives this fragrance a deep dark, murky green feel. This might sound unattractive, but it isn't. Combined with the dark gold sparkle of the peach, it transports me to a shadowy pond in a enchanted forest, where frogs just may transform into princes.

And by the time I used the last of my 2 ml sample I felt sad that I would now be without this fragrance, so I bought a full bottle.

I have the sneaking suspicion that I'll continue to like this more the more I wear it.

02nd November, 2016
This review is for the 2014 EDT, which is reputed to be among Guerlain's better reformulations. I also have a 2015 EDP, and can't recommend that one - it has a sour note, and might have been among the batch issued prior to Guerlain's 2015 Mitsouko and L'Heure Bleue production halt due to a problem with one of their shared ingredients (that issue was resolved, and production resumed in 2016). The 2015 suspension involved only the EDP and parfum extrait concentrations of those fragrances - not the EDT.

Mitsouko EDT, while of course lighter and thinner than the parfum, is true to its heritage and actually smells more like my vintage juice than the 2015 EDP (referenced above). The EDT is fresh, crisp and well delineated, and it even has a little of the bite we associate with oakmoss (though modern Mitsouko contains only a fractionated version of that restricted ingredient). So I agree with those who say that 2014 was a very good year for Mitsouko EDT.
31st October, 2016
I really want to like this. It doesn't smell at all how I expected. It has a lovely woody clove scent that i love, but I can't get around another prominent note that smells perfectly like freshly opened band aids. This is the edt version, so that might make a difference.
26th September, 2016
It's bright and sunny. I smell peach and ginger and mace and honey. Even so, I would keep it for spring and summer. It's got a little spice to it as it opens up, and while I wouldn't call this a night scent /for me/, I tend to wear masculine perfumes at night, so this might be deep enough for someone who prefers florals in the daytime.
14th July, 2016
Mitsouko edt is a fun, interesting fragrance, reminiscent of a leather handbag filled with lotions and other secrets, with some bright fruit and sweet flowers, peach and jasmine, I gather.
17th April, 2016 (last edited: 18th April, 2016)
Unbelievably multi-faceted and ever-evolving during the course of a single wearing, and different to my nose every day I wear it. It seems like everything affects it, and tilts it one way or another along a burnished gold spectrum: the temperature outside, the time of year, my mood, the alignment of the planets, what I had for lunch :). Even though some days it's not for me, it is simply without peer and worthy of its pedestal. A treasure.
16th January, 2016
Purchased for my wife based on Basenotes reviews and popularity. I own several Guerlain fragrances and always have found the house's scents very well done in a quite traditional sense.

What struck me as odd about Mitsouko is that it didn't seem dated at all but in fact, a very modern fruity chypre. The peach and jasmine middle notes are prominent, supported by a mossy wood base. Sweet, but not sickly. Although not listed, there's a touch of white floral, to keep it feminine. Good longevity and average sillage. Seems to be a better fall to spring scent. Wife likes it.

Thumbs Up for me as well.
29th December, 2015
This is going to be a bit lengthy, but I think Mitsouko deserves it...

So here I am - my Basenotes wardrobe says I've tried almost 2000 perfumes now, and this is close to my 600th review, so I feel like I have a basic grasp on what I'm talking about when it comes to perfumes, and I still very much struggle with Mitsouko. It's supposed to be the finest perfume in the world, and truth be told, I just don't really like it that much.

To me, Mitsouko is confusing in a frustrating way, like trying to untangle an impossibly knotted cord. And yet somehow, everyone else seems to "get it" and have simple descriptions of it that make no sense to me.

I started off with the current extrait version, spraying it on at every opportunity for years. Something about its concentration always knocks out my nose, leaving me smelling practically nothing, whether I try a light or heavy application. After years of thinking I must be doing something wrong, I've decided that the extrait simply disagrees with me and I've written it off.

From there, I tried the current EDP. I have no trouble smelling it, but I just don't get the magic that everyone else does. If I bury my nose in it and study it really hard, I can barely make out whiffs of peach and clove and a hint of something green and poopy, but it mostly all melts together into a cohesive single entity that smells to me like thick, peanutty dough. It actually smells pretty good, but the claims of it being the best peachskin perfume or the ultimate textbook chypre are baffling to me.

So, as a gift from a fantastic perfume friend, I got a sample of the vintage EDP. As is chemically unavoidable, the topnotes have turned with age, so you have to wait through about 20 minutes of rancid vinegar before the good stuff starts. Eventually, it lands on that peanutty dough smell, but somehow less cohesive than the current version. I can smell peach - it's still not upfront, but I can understand how it is flavoring the peanut dough mixture. The same goes for the rose and cloves and a dark green smell that I'm assuming is the oakmoss everyone is crazy for (it honestly doesn't smell like the little bottle of oakmoss tincture I use as my benchmark, though). It's more strongly poopy than the current version, and the whole mixture is louder.

So I guess my favorite is the vintage EDP, but there are other classic chypres I enjoy a lot more. I like the peanut dough smell, but the same effect is in L'Heure Bleue, but teamed up there with powdery flowers and greens and sandalwood and iris and the amazing Guerlinade base, so I like it MUCH more than Mitsouko.

So I guess that's it. After years of study, the world's best perfume gets a "meh" from me. Maybe someday something will click and I'll fall in love, but after all these years of sampling Mitsouko, I doubt that's going to happen. So I guess that leaves me voting "neutral". Oh well...
22nd November, 2015
I've tried this on a few occasions now, as all Guerlains require me to before reviewing! Well, this is an interesting one. It takes confidence for a man to wear it, but once you feel confident, it's an amazing experience and nobody would ever think you were wearing a "Women's" fragrance. Right at the start it's slightly fruity but in my opinion it's "dry", not juicy. That dryness allows it to be firmly unisex where just a bit more juice would have leaned feminine. There's some citrus and spice lurking in the background but it's never very strong on me.

The middle is also immediately evident, you don't really need to wait for the top to fade. The middle is moss and rose, plus just a bit of a peach-fuzz-like effect. Also the moss here doesn't smell like the oakmoss we're all used to, at least not to me, and it smells nothing like the little vial of true oakmoss I have either. It smells recognizably like standard green moss that you might have smelled as a child. There's some vetiver somewhere in the mix too but it isn't grassy, it's earthy. There are some woods in there as well but I can't quite pinpoint exactly what kinds of woods they are. They're soft and don't smell generic or synthetic. If this all makes it sound like a scent influenced by unusual outdoors-evoking smells, that's because it is. Slightly sweet but earthy and rich, and shame unto anyone who says that description doesn't sound masculine, or at least unisex.

Things get softer toward the end but that's really it with this fragrance. The only thing that made me question wearing this out in public was that rose note. Upon further thought, however, I decided rose is very common in oud scents and incense fragrances that men wear. If it's OK to mix with a peppery wood and smokey incense, why not earthy vetiver and moss? One more thing that really solidified my confidence in the fragrance's unisex quality was its reference in Habit Rouge EDP. There are some parts in the middle of Habit Rouge EDP that are, at least in my opinion, a firm nod in Mitsouko's direction. When I close my eyes and smell my wrist while wearing this, "feminine" doesn't even come to mind. So relax, men, this is more masculine than original Habit Rouge and Habit Rouge EDP. I think it's significantly more masculine than Dior Homme. This is certainly more masculine than Shalimar, which many men wear. Plus it's an amazing composition that we deserve to enjoy too! Big thumbs-up from me.
25th August, 2015