Hiroshima mon Amour Nez à Nez 2010

The famous nouvelle vague film "Hiroshima mon amour" is intriguing and disturbing, the perfume is not in the least as bold or challenging as the film. With such a name, the scent should be genuinely outstanding! Yet the fragrance comes across very sweet, quite plain, containing some weird, milky note I cannot pin down. After the Fokushima disaster from 2011, "Hiroshima mon amour" is a scent which bears a name I would not want to see/read on my shelf at all - too many utterly bad associations. And the scent itself is no winner in my book either.

I haven't seen the film, I do not know anything about it.
The name is quite interesting. I really like Japanese culture, so I decided to give it a try.
HIROSHIMA MON AMOUR is one of the most interesting fragrances in my opinion. I can not compare it to anything what I know, it is totally special. There are some perfumes, which are breezy, airy, this is NOT. It is definitely sweet, sometimes exaggeratedly - and on word "sometimes" I mean my own mood, not the change of the scent, since it really does not have changes, you can put it everywhere, on testpaper, on hair, on clothes, on skin, the scent will be the same, and till it disappears (minimum 8-9 hours), it remains what you smelled at first.
I can not identify from the notes else than beeswax. Smooth, sweet and strong fragrance, relaxing and natural. It makes H.m.A. a gourmand parfume.

And today, please not one with mint flavor. I want something fruity, with cinnamon. But not that sharp cinnamon like in the Sizzling Cinnamon Jelly Bellys, please. They are incredibly delicious, and I generally have nothing against spicy, but not today. Today should be gentle and mild. Like a mix of Juicy Fruit and Big Red, perhaps. But not quite so strong. More like those modern wellness gums. Soft and velvety. And not so artificial, please. Surely, it can be quite natural, right?

Of course, it can! Hiroshima Mon Amour, here you go!

Had I known the fragrance notes before testing, I would have been sure: this sweet fruit explosion is definitely not for me. With all the fruits (plum! cherry!!) and vanilla in the amber-musk base, I wouldn't have thought about the rest. But sometimes you just need a little nudge or a blind recommendation from a perfumery owner and a carefree openness. And a suitable skin. And a beautiful fragrance composition that keeps all its promises but does so in a very refined and surprisingly different way, making it really good.

Hiroshima, my cheerful and noble gum instantly lifts my spirits and soothes a possibly somewhat tense mood. Cherry and cinnamon are present, but very, very subtle and far from any squeaky candy associations. The otherwise quite dominant plum stays perfectly in the background and contributes more of a velvety softness. The mandarin is rather weak for me, but the zesty yuzu lingers on my skin quite a while and prevents this lovely gum from turning into Hubba Bubba. Overall, it doesn’t come off as overly sweet like a children's birthday party. Instead, a noble schnapps or liqueur note (without alcohol) adds sophistication and multidimensionality to the scent.

A fine sweet base carries the cinnamon-cherry heart note for a long time and doesn’t show off. The heart note remains the centerpiece of this perfume, rounded off by a highly airy, noble woody, and delicately vanillic base. Interesting fragrance notes like birch and beeswax provide a few indistinct facets that are not really tangible but definitely present, as Hiroshima Mon Amour feels finely crafted and skillfully complex without being complicated. On the contrary, it is extremely easy to grasp and easy to like. When I perceive and describe it as a gum scent, I mean that in the most positive sense. Approachable, cheerful, and likable, yet not childish, but very grown-up and restrained. But even beyond adolescence, there are still carefree moments, right? For that, Hiroshima Mon Amour is just perfect. You can't chew gum in a fancier way.

Nez à Nez has the gift of placing fragrances of very different nuances on a wonderful wooden base, without the scents appearing woody. Hiroshima mon Amour is the fourth fragrance, after Ambre à Sade, Marron Chic, and Bouche Baie, where I notice this fine, dry wood-scented note. Stronger in one fragrance, weaker in another, but still present.

Hiroshima mon Amour is a truly interesting scent. Even in the fresh-fruity top note, the coloring of ripe cherries and dry wood is evident. This impression intensifies after 10 minutes and lasts a long time, really a very long time, gaining a wonderful depth and slight sweetness. However, the wood does not drift too much into the gourmand territory, although I would already classify it as a gourmand.

For many hours, I was able to enjoy this fine, ripe cherry on wood with a hint of beeswax. Nevertheless, I will not be acquiring Hiroshima mon Amour, as the base brought me back to reality.

As beautiful as it could be based on the fragrance components listed in the pyramid, it is not. After about 8 hours, I suddenly received a kind of marshmallow scent (I can't stand marshmallows), an artificial, sweet note, devoid of any depth or warmth and certainly not gourmand. What a pity, I enjoyed Hiroshima mon Amour very much until then, but marshmallows at the end - that just doesn't work.

To understand some of the comments about this fragrance, it should be added that the fragrance pyramid was originally stated differently.

On the packaging of the fragrance, it says (Fragrance Pyramid 1):

Top note: Yuzu, Mandarin, Algae
Heart note: Lotus, Cinnamon, Clove
Base note: Noble Woods, Cherry Pit, Royal Jelly

But various retail points and fragrance portals online indicate the following (Fragrance Pyramid 2):

Top note: Yuzu, Chinese Mandarin, Plum
Heart note: Juniper, Ambroxan, Birch, Sake, Cherry Pits
Base note: Beeswax, Musk, Amber, Vanilla

Why is that?
Anyone who frequently encounters such differing perfume descriptions, someone who might be actively involved in Parfumo Research, might know. Unfortunately, I do not... and I am simply astonished that despite such clear evidence (black on white on the packaging!) another fragrance pyramid stubbornly persists on the internet.

I find it even more fascinating that the fragrance can be recognized in both fragrance pyramids.
Experiment:
Spray Person A with the fragrance and present Fragrance Pyramid 1.
Spray Person B with the fragrance and present Fragrance Pyramid 2.

Result - which fragrance components were perceived?
- Person A recognizes a selection of the components from Fragrance Pyramid 1, but not the fragrance components that only appear in Fragrance Pyramid 2, apart from the cinnamon.
- Person B recognizes a selection of the components from Fragrance Pyramid 2.

In short: Selective perception.
Or also: the fragrance description becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Not that this is something new. But this fragrance demonstrates it so impressively.
And it makes me question everything first. How much of a fragrance is objectively there and what is interpreted, shaped by our expectations?
No worries, no existential crisis :-) The whole thing resolves itself in that fragrances are anyway a subjective matter and thus all fragrance pyramids and comments in the world cannot prepare us for what it triggers in us.

What I perceive in this fragrance, by the way:
Cinnamon, unsweetened cherries, and "something bee-like" (Royal Jelly / Beeswax)
Something indefinably fruity, also unsweetened, only very slightly perceptible.
I do not directly perceive the woods, but one can already notice a difference from the typical musk amber base, which I find very pleasant and different.
Little strong change in the fragrance over time.
In my case, relatively little projection and longevity.

And I learn to appreciate this fragrance much too late.
I test it one last time before it moves on to JC77. I had only tested it before and did not particularly like it, which I now cannot understand at all. The combination of cinnamon, Royal Jelly with unsweetened cherry note is simply noble and very fine. I can imagine it perfectly for the pre-Christmas season.
A quiet gourmand that one cannot get enough of quickly, as it does not overwhelm with sweetness.

Perhaps one simply needs to engage more deeply with a fragrance, to delve into it, in order to appreciate it. Especially with quiet fragrances.
Just as one must learn to appreciate music (I have experienced that I did not like music at all, and then eventually found everything absolutely brilliant upon repeated listening).

P.S.:
I am probably somewhat of a scientific type. I like to be rational, tend to overthink, am critical, and sometimes look for answers at a depth where others shake their heads (which does not contradict a love for fragrances; I also love everything that appeals to the senses). Therefore, I am not the one who weaves stories around a fragrance in comments, working strongly with associations and metaphors. And I always have the impression that I have to apologize for this in every comment, as at least for my feeling, most readers prefer rather flowery comments.
This time, however, I do not feel the need to justify myself. Perhaps a different perspective on fragrances can indeed be refreshing. ;-)