Toujours Moi Dana

Because I was drawn to the notes and because of the very reasonable price, I went ahead and bought this fragrance blindly. This became a small surprise. So, I have no regrets.

I am sniffing my arm and feel myself transported to a palace somewhere in the Orient. The music begins. A gorgeous belly dancer twirls enticingly on the small stage in front of me. Spirited and racy at first, her movements gradually become softer and softer. Warmth and sensuality radiate from her body. She is fully aware of her feminine power.

And this is how I perceive this scent: Af first a somewhat strong impression of orange blossom, but then after a few minutes a soft woody oriental note appears, slightly sweet and very warm, almost powdery. I can also detect a honey note laced with a hint of cinnamon.

For me, this is a soft Oriental scent, really cuddly for the Winter time. Sillage and longevity are remarkable considering the low price of this perfume.

(Translation: Pipette)

I blind bought this one, based on reviews, but I'm not loving it. On me, the drydown smells greasy or petroleum. A powdery petroleum. I didn't leave it on long enough to comment further. A very disappointing blind buy.

My impeccably preserved bottle of Corday Toujours Moi is, in a word, divine. A bitter almond lavender-heliotrope mauve mist emanates from my skin, with orange blossom and seeming traces of blackcurrant and raspberry. Then there is the lilac and jasmine, pregnant blooms, treading somewhere between Victorian powder and sultry balm, drizzled with some honey. These are ever so lightly teased with spice, none that are quite legible enough to be identified individually, but still discernible nonetheless. Certain moments can be perceived as spicy flowers; others as flowery spice.

What's most notable though, is how forward the vetiver and frankincense is in the otherwise ambery, musky dry down, each lending a soft smokiness. Somehow this contrast creates a pleasing tension and relaxation to the nose—intervals in the dry own, dissonance resolving into consonance. It's an interplay of sweet and bitter, light and dark, curtains and layers, sillage that shocks and awes, as the bottle could not be from any more recent than the 70s, when Max Factor took over production. In summary, Toujours Moi has an unexpected air of mystery and drama in all of its layers.

.....when I come home from work, satisfied-tired, but dusty from a day in the garden. When it’s cold or gray-damp, I look forward to a warm, relaxing bath.
I let the water run, add a spicy aromatic bath, step in and enjoy for a quarter of an hour. Afterwards, I apply lotion. Not just any body milk, but an unscented one from "Natur aus," to which I then give the right kick by filling little jars with it and adding a wonderful fragrance to each. And now, alongside three other scent jars, I have just enriched one with Toujours Moi. And I am thrilled.
After applying the lotion, I spray a bit of pure fragrance, and a wonderful scent potpourri is ready, spicy, clove-heavy, smoky, earthy, delightfully "old-fashioned," and like a time travel into the fragrance universe of the 1950s and 60s of the 20th century.
Into the time of surrealistic cinema and mysterious thrillers.
But also into the era of elegantly dressed ladies and gentlemen who chose patterns from Burda magazines and sewed much of their wardrobe themselves (my mother comes from this generation and did the same..)
Elegance for relatively little money, diving into the world of fashion and the matching fragrances.
And the Dana fragrance described here has a slightly oriental elegance in the style of Farah Diba or Callas, without being as expensive as their gowns....simply "stunning"...

I came across the still-produced and easily available "Toujours Moi" by Dana through the previous purchase of a small mini of the namesake, but long discontinued original by Corday, which can only be acquired with luck in an old bottle.

The original by Corday is for me a wonderfully soft dark reddish-brown comforting amber, which perhaps / probably contains no amber at all - at least neither the local fragrance descriptions nor further research provide any indication of this. Nevertheless, it smells infinitely deep and warm, far from the usual shallow chocolate-cocoa associations. Perhaps it is simply due to the years and decades in which the original ingredients of my mini could mature and smooth out, giving them the impression of amber, without it ever being a component of the perfume.

The namesake successor model by Dana, although produced anew, still conveys the somewhat dusty charm of a vintage perfume that leans heavily on the old Corday original, but - how could it be otherwise - does not quite reach its level in my opinion.

The most apparent difference for me is the absence of the warm amber nuance, which in the Corday may have been created solely by matured patchouli. In the new Dana-Toujours-Moi, the patchouli appears fresh - and correspondingly harsher and coarser. It is indeed blended with forest honey, which naturally adds a sweetness, but also contributes its own harsh and resinous aromas. The aromatic benzoin resin, used in India as temple incense and in the Greek Orthodox Church instead of the usual resin from the frankincense tree, also adds to the overall impression, which is balsamic, slightly vanillic, warming, and sweet, yet retains a distinctly rough core.

Not worse than the original by Corday - just a bit different: Rougher and edgier.

The patchouli in Dana does not remind me of the often-compared (and rarely liked) musty potato cellar, nor of other patchouli variants I know, such as light-dry earth. During my first test, I had - even if it probably raises eyebrows - an immediate association with "Wet Dog"! Those who know it (and - even better - also like it) might understand what I mean: This completely natural, warm, earthy, and lively scent of a being that simply smells of itself - and is a bit stronger due to the moisture.

To provoke even more bewilderment, I could go further and differentiate: Not "any" wet dog, but specifically the kind of mixed breed that usually has a bit of terrier in it. With rather short, bristly, wiry fur, in black-gray-white (pepper-salt), feet like toilet brushes (which probably only an insider truly understands :D), not really pretty - but very intelligent, lovable, spunky, and cheeky.

I can well imagine that both formulations - the old one by Corday and the new one by Dana - are fundamentally not far apart. Perhaps it really is just the factor of "time" that has made the old Corday what it is today on a timeline. Maybe the new Dana is simply the somewhat rougher and rawer (because unaged) starting product of the same scent - and would present itself just as soft and warm in 5, 10, or 20 years if given the time to do so. A difference like between a new fresh "Crianza" and an old aged "Grand Reserva": The same grapes, the same vineyard - just a different aging time.

Yes - perhaps some perfumes should be stored just like we naturally do with certain wines. Since "Toujours Moi" by Dana can be obtained at reasonably moderate prices, it would definitely be worth a try. Especially if you like somewhat dusty scents with patchouli and resin. Or with wet dog.