1826 Histoires de Parfums 2001

This headline should be taken literally. Recently, I ordered a blind buy from my wishlist, just like that, because I had a little financial boost, and because I happened to see Eugenie de Montijo as a good offer in a shop. So, I thought, I'll just order it, it's been on my list for so long, and sometimes not, back and forth, let's just put an end to it.

Dear Fran, your comment was largely responsible for Eugenie being a permanent guest on my wishlist, I just wanted to mention that ;-)
I was expecting from this fragrance what I personally cherish as my main prey pattern regarding perfumes: warm, soft skin, a fragrance that doesn't smell like perfume. A scent that could theoretically be my own skin scent, just as I ideally imagine it. A fragrance that enters into an irresistible symbiosis with my skin. A scent that doesn't immediately attract everyone, but only those who come close to me and are allowed to, and from whom I wish for that.

Well, so Eugenie arrives, I open the outer box, I ordered: 60ml. The standard size is 125ml, but we don't want to get carried away with blind buys. The bottle is a half bottle. This should also be taken literally, it is halved in length, the lettering is only half, the sprayer merges with the cut edge. ART with a wink, I have to grin.

The grin quickly fades as I spray Eugenie. At first, nothing spectacular, a few moments of spicy citrus freshness, somewhat vintage in feel - I think of the 70s - I sense the patchouli I fear and feel a bit anxious. Is this going to turn out to be a musty patch scent, perhaps in the hippie old-school 70s manner..?
I go about my day, or rather, I start it, when suddenly a scent rises from my wrist that I swear I did NOT spray.

In an instant, it hits me, I almost feel dizzy, good gracious, a hundred percent!! I know it immediately. The round, soft, deep warmth, subtle yet memorable, cuddly; caressingly soft, warm skin, just as it is, without cream, without sunscreen, having gone 24 hours without a shower without any major sweat-inducing activities in between, pure and unadulterated.

If Eugenie were a voice, it would be a dark, calm, not loud voice, no sexy rasp, rather velvety, a chest voice. No fast speaking pace, but also not sluggish. Not excited. No lecturing. No whispering. And certainly no shouting or shrieking.
Such voices exist, both among men AND women, and when you encounter them rarely amidst the constant noise and chatter of everyday life that surrounds us, it feels like a warm blanket being laid over a shivering body. When such a voice speaks, even if only briefly and not loudly, other voices fall silent.

That is Eugenie de Montijo. I linger and listen to the voice, my eyes closed. This is how I want to smell. Ideally, naturally. Warm skin, humanoid, organic, but without animalistic traits, without sweatiness, but also not like clean, soapy skin, showered, bathed, or even creamed. No, I want to smell human and warm. And with Eugenie, I do.

Without waiting for further development, I rush back to the computer, without hesitation I now order a *whole* bottle of this glass-encased vision of love, beauty, sensuality, underlying eroticism, security, and calm.

It is essentially unnecessary to mention that friends of expansive projections will not get their money's worth. Eugenie is a skin scent, and it stays close to the skin. Its longevity falters as well, after 5 hours it runs out of breath, but before that, its voice brightens a bit, soft, light woods bring a hint of fresh bitterness into play, which suits the character of the fragrance - by the way, absolutely unisex - excellently.
I can hardly perceive anything floral, as I can hardly unravel this lush fragrance pyramid at all. Everything is a unity, a completely rounded impression, and nothing stands out.

This fragrance has made its way into my personal Hall of Fame from 0 to 100, and I swear, there will be no half bottles of Eugenie for me anymore. Here, I will only go for the whole.