Champagne Master 2011

I would like to have an infinite number of perfumes, one for each moment of the day. I want to wake up in the morning and sprinkle myself with what I think may represent my mood, more, and I wish that others around, smelling my perfume, could somehow imagine how I feel, could have an image of me, feel mine sensations. Am I asking too much? Maybe yes, but that’s what I want from perfume, and that’s why I never have just one. And even on the same day, the scent I put on in the morning, probably in the evening, no longer suits me. This morning, a lazy, foggy Sunday in April, I woke up to the addition of tuberose. And Gucci Bloom worked my desire perfectly.

I admit, my fault; I only recently discovered the fascination of the tuberose flower since I started ignoring the genus. As an ignorant man, I have always dedicated myself to perfumes intended for a male audience who, for some unknown reason, does not include this beautiful flower in their blend. There are perfumes like Bvlgari Man in Black that contain it, but they don’t give it the proper emphasis as in fragrances intended for a female audience. An exception is Zara’s recent releases, Bois Soleil Men, where the sensual flower plays an important role.

Bloom is a floral bomb but not a complex fragrance. It is a melange of flowers to create a bohemian bouquet that treads the razor’s edge between vintage and modern, the smell of the backyard at night. Bloom has a unique packaging that immediately captured me, a linear bottle with a lacquered surface and the pale pink color of porcelain. It’s like a box of face powder. Brilliant, delicate, but so wonderfully magical. And Bloom’s powdery note was an emotion, a velvety but not crushed sensation, immersed in the enveloping tuberose and jasmine that makes everything fresh and tender. It is the perfume that is revealed little by little after the first most powerful note. Bloom is therefore not an immediate perfume but one that reveals itself with grace, caution, and freshness. And it puts the spotlight on tuberose, enriching it with jasmine and honeysuckle. Everything is fresh, with the right amount of “sweet,” the right amount of “green.”

The scent unfolds directly with a dry and flowery bouquet. It’s purely a white floral blend, but rather than edgy or jarring, it’s delicately understated and sweet. There are no notes of Hesperides or aldehydes. The first notes are divine: pure white flowers, no fruit, no citrus, no sweet notes—just like diving into a flower bush. And this sets this fragrance apart from the multitude of floral scents currently on the shelves. The creamy tuberose hit with all its splendor explodes. It is a diva, rich, sour, bitter, a touch of waxy, camphor, simply delicious. A touch of bitterness makes me think of lily-of-the-valley.

The heart is and remains a floral mix; soon, the dewy white jasmine blooms. Rich, the bud is in the background, and there is something greenish, a green element of foliage with even a hint of undergrowth. The more it grows, the greener it becomes. Jasmine peeps out from time to time but remains docile and is not indolic. Sweet but not sickly, just like pouring a drop of honey on the bud, sharp but not annoying, noisy but not disturbing. Presumably, it’s because of the tuberose, but I seem to get a gardenia-like shade. It reminds me of walking in a garden of white jasmine, gardenias, and tuberoses that bloom right after the rain, with the warm breeze hitting my face. There is a light powder that could be an iris or a soft orris mixed with something like violet leaves, but it’s probably just one aspect of the Chinese honeysuckle.

The last stage adds a honeysuckle-like aroma, which is probably the added element of the Rangoon Creeper. I love the scent of honeysuckle, mine is the common white and yellow one, and every time it blooms on my terrace, I feel happy, so maybe that’s another reason why I love Bloom. It is the sweetest component in the development of this floral cluster, but it is a civil and lovable sweetness, which is never unpleasant, intrusive, or cloying. The base is a little powdery and balsamic, with a musky undertone but still rich in tuberose. There is a soapy atmosphere, not a classic soap scent, somewhat the characteristic fragrance of Marseille soap.

It is fresh and gentle with a dreamy and diaphanous sillage and scents like a bouquet of white petals through and through but has a persistent and ubiquitous creamy undertone that never allows it to be too floral or too sweet. Indeed, linear, while the subtle undertones change over time, but the scent doesn’t need to change much when it’s interesting enough to begin with. Like a memorable painted portrait, it has a face that you can perceive again and again and see it a little differently every time. To some, it will seem too linear and without notes, but in reality, on the skin, it has enough facets not to be boring, and at the same time, it is straightforward to overlap with other perfumes. It is a clean floral scent, slightly soapy, not too sweet, relatively modest. It is an elegant floral. Brunch with friends, spring office work, a date for a summer dinner - the scent is versatile and will blend well for many occasions. Bloom falls firmly into the non-indolic realm. You’ll never find that buttery fatness that is off-putting at times.

I based the review on a 100 ml bottle I own since January 2021.

-Elysium

Gucci's Bloom is the modern designer floral par excellence. Fresh, green-tinged, and youthful, it has become somewhat of an instant classic. Indeed, it is sometimes hard to believe its distinctive floral-patterned box and pink rectangular flacon only hit the shelves eight years ago.

Bloom's fresh white floral opening delights with its dominant tuberose and crisp green facets, like crushed young stems. The waxy petals and green stems of jasmine soon become apparent, and are superbly blended with the tuberose. Both flowers are neither carnal nor indolic at arm's length; they are softly creamy and very fresh, with a splash of naturalistic sweetness. It's only up close that they have a bit more indolic bite, but you'd have to be very initimate for someone else to detect it.

Bloom becomes creamier and less sharp in the dry down, while remaining clean and bright. The shift is subtle, and overall the scent is fairly linear.

The comparisons to Diptyque's much pricier Do Son Eau de Toilette are apt, but Bloom is arguably a better fragrance; more coherent, simpler, more persistent, and certainly more affordable. It may be more synthetic, but you couldn't tell due to its clever composition.

In fact, from among the wave of minimalist designer florals that descended on the market in 2017, Bloom is by far the most naturalistic, despite being predominately composed of synthetics. It is lighter and more cheerful than Twilly d'Hermès Eau de Parfum, which has a heavy-handed dose of musk in the base, and more distinctive than Gabrielle Chanel Eau de Parfum, which timidly mimicked the citrus and floral accord of Jour d'Hermès Eau de Parfum, released four year's earlier. Alberto Morillas really does know how to compose a blockbuster to a budget without sacrificing artistry, and Bloom is among his finest examples.

Heavy white florals. The initial cloud smells like those flowering bushes that are pretty tame and unassuming during the day, but suddenly become super fragrant on summer evenings. I can never remember their name. But they're beautiful. Humid, honeyed, warm.

I'm usually not a big fan of heavy floral scents, but I have to admit – I found myself enjoying this one quite a lot. It became sweeter as it settled on my skin and jasmine came to the forefront. I didn't feel any powderiness. On the contrary, it was very clean and easy to breathe in. Unexpectedly good, realistic flowers on a gentle creamy backdrop.

For a brief moment I thought I was falling in love. Something about this composition was very comforting. Delicate, honeyed floral sweetness. Airy warmth. It felt... safe. Like I was a little bee cradled for the night in the petals.

But then in a blink of an eye it was gone. It lasted barely longer than an hour in total, but near the end it suddenly fizzled away to a weird greenish base. ~20 more minutes and it was completely gone.

Left an overall pleasant impression except for the abrupt ending. But while I think back on it and do want more of that cozy feeling, I'd rather search for it elsewhere than fly back to the same flower I've painfully fallen out of before.

Beside Rush, I am not an owner of a Gucci perfume. None of them suits me. I am sorry I had no chance to smell Envy because I heard it was a beautiful creation.
Now, let’s talk about Bloom. Tuberose is a nice flower but it can be very heavy. 2017 seems to be a tuberose year: Twilly, Gabrielle and now Gucci Bloom. I bet that by the end of the year there will be more perfumes that have tuberose as a starting point.
The fragrance opens with a sweet tuberose. The sweetness comes from honeysuckle, a flower from heaven with a gorgeous smell. So, I get a sweet, wonderful tuberose because it is the diva in this composition.
The perfume is linear with a tuberose which dominates the other notes. Sweet but not sickly, sharp but not annoying, loud but not disturbing. A classic composition made for all those who love white flowers.
The dry-down is a little powdery and balsamic maybe due to orris root, but still full of tuberose.
Projection and longevity are very good.
Gucci Bloom is a very nice fragrance where the tuberose is very well represented. It is different from others perfumes and bold in its own way. A good floral for the floral lovers.

A contemporary, buoyant floral, with a hidden green note, perhaps from the tuberose. Longevity is considerable for a white floral, and the dry down remains fresh without a sweet or powdery finish. Highly recommended for lovers of simple floral bouquets. Excellent for Spring and Summer daytime wearing and for warm spring and summer nights. But I wear Bloom anytime I need a lift. This is a bold floral that does not go by halves.