Soleil de Capri Montale

…in a fairy-tale time, when wishing still helped: One only had to tightly squeeze their eyes shut - and found themselves on a warm late spring day in an Italian ice cream café.

Unfortunately, it’s not that simple nowadays. We have to resort to other means. So: I really want spring. And if you want something with all your might, what better aid could there be than a corresponding Montale? After all, they also want something with all their might. And indeed, recently as part of a swap (many thanks to KC2503!) I found a sample of a Montale in the envelope with the magic words ‘Soleil’ and ‘Capri’ on it. Deus ex machina.

The opening offers not only the promised palette of citrus fruits, but there’s also a green note in between, possibly a corresponding leaf. Alongside that is a slightly artificial prick from hesperidic peels, like freshly grated lemon zest. I also find it smells a bit like fresh fig. I borrow the “crisp apples” from the comment of the esteemed Taurus1967, as they fit perfectly too.

The white flowers are very understated. The same goes for the spices. I am genuinely shocked in a positive way that a Montale can come across as Mediterranean. Only in the third hour do the aforementioned spices achieve any notable presence. Cinnamon, yes, has already been mentioned. But also things like clove, nutmeg, or allspice. Just their aroma, no sharpness, no prickliness. The flowers, on the other hand, remain elegantly unobtrusive and almost merge with the creamy musk base.

Around midday, the spice becomes more pronounced. The prickliness of the citrus fruit is gradually replaced by spicy pricks. For that, the aforementioned spices simply had to become a bit more defined, to exploit their potential more strongly. It happens so slowly that I suddenly wonder if I have been literally led by the nose for quite some time.

The afternoon offers another shift, new moisture-retaining elements are called from the bench to the field. Two variations come to mind: First, I imagine a hint of diffuse woodiness alongside the musk, possibly a light artificial wood note is involved. Second, some daffodils have white flowers, and there’s a light, airy bitterness in here….

Be that as it may, it somehow remains fresh. Not really citrusy towards the end, but fresh. The fragrance lasts about seven to eight hours in total, until only soapy musk remains - very decent.

Conclusion: A straightforward sunny scent that skillfully extends its freshness through spice, perhaps wood, and possibly daffodil. No olfactory acrobatics, simply beautiful.

And - what can I say: It worked! After a still frosty morning (including scraping ice off the windshield!), there was bright sunshine all day with at least double-digit temperatures! I can’t ask for more in mid-March in Hamburg. Well done, Soleil de Capri!