Thé Vert Roger & Gallet 2000

I'm not usually a fan of green tea. But this isn't really at all about green tea. R+G The' Vert is really an easygoing, well-blended citrus scent. It seems like the tea is in there only to take the sharp edges off the citrus. Somehow, it does so without the chalky, claylike effect that I think marks glasses of green tea and green tea flavored sweets (I've had both green tea ice cream and mochi that were way too much like mud).

It's beautifully balanced. Interestingly, another website lists its nose as Philippe Romano, who hasn't anything else like it. (He's the nose behind Dali's Le Roi Soleil and several of the fruity-floral Escadas.) It's perfect for hot, stuffy nights when you don't want something too citrusy to wake you up.

Should my green tea taste bitter? In a word, no! Green tea should be sweet, crisp, creamy, delicate, nutty, seaweedy, or greenish. But not bitter. If your green tea tastes bitter, it is either weak quality tea or hasn't been appropriately brewed.
While the statement mentioned above is valid for drinkable green tea beverages, it does not apply to wearable green tea scents. Believe me or not, Roger&Gallet Thé Vert is one of the best bitter green tea cologne I've ever smelt. I don't know if the guaiac wood is the source of such a trace of bitterness. Yet the result is so pleasant, masculine, making the scent not only for women. If you take a cup of green tea and dilute it with lemon juice, you'll get something close to this Roger & Gallet number. It starts tart and sharp, but the musk makes it sweeter as it dries down. A posy of white flowers softens the lemon, and the rest of the story doesn't change much until Thé Vert fades.

Thé Vert opening is brilliant, tart, and sharp; it creates around you a scented aura that recalls the bright and divine atmosphere inspired by the Far East land. More, it reveals all the complexity, tenderness, and harmony of the oriental tradition and offers a pleasant soothing effect on the skin. I can recognize a zesty mix of citrus fruits, allegedly sour lemon, bitter grapefruit, and gentle mandarin orange peel's oils. The blend even has a floral tone, which reminds me of the powdery facets of iris and violet blossoms, perhaps the lily-of-the-valley or the freesia provide that fresh accord. The white flowers soften the lemon, and the rest of the tale doesn't change much until Thé Vert fades in. That floral moment is the only prominent feminine aspect of this wondrous scent, anyhow so soft and delicate, not overwhelming or annoying people around or close to you. When it comes to green tea scents, you might immediately think about Elizabeth Arden or Victor Green Tea takes, yet this scent is different. I like how it kindly hugs my skin and smells fresh and uplifting throughout the day.

The heart contains a green tea extract, a kind of like yerba mate or matcha, and the sheer presence of white flowers. I bet some citrus blossoms such as orange or lemon, zagara, or neroli, call it as you prefer, they must be in there cause a pleasant and uplifting citrus aroma stays in the background all the times. The green tea is very pure and natural here. It merely dominates, yet doesn't overstand, and with the added woods, it gives a more masculine character.

Afterward, the dry down reveals with a musky, sweet amber, and woody accord that lasts for 4 to 5 hours on my skin, then it's completely gone, but by then, I'm ready for a more substantial evening or night fragrance. Thé Vert is one of those casual perfumes that don't pretend to be great works of art and deliver plenty of enjoyment for few bucks. More, this is an eau de cologne, a so-called Fragrant Water, and it does a great job compared to many other eau de toilette scents that are gone in half an hour or so.
My flavor suggests me to wear during late spring and all summer daytime, even pleasant but too light for evening or night out. No matter how old you are, it performs well at office, leisure, or weekend with friends. Test it, and you will be surprised about how good is this cologne.

-Elysium

I have tried many Green Tea fumes and I found this one very casual and sporty.
My favorite Green Tea is Eau Parfumee au The Vert Bvlgari for women and men.I like the musk on it but this one is romantic and calm.I don't know why they are so negative reviews about this Spring water perfume.A very comfy and relaxation one with Japanese rose-some notes are not listed- and a refreshing flowery, woody, citrusy and green tea harmony.

From Roger & Gallet site about this fragrance: The caressing majesty of Mount Fuji at daybreak. Allow yourself to be carried away by the radiant, sacred atmosphere of Mount Fuji rising among the tea fields. The senses are aroused, the mind is stimulated under a natural waterfall of green tea and citrus fruit blended with the subtle sensuality of the precious wood. The Roger & Gallet Green Tea Gentle Fragrant Water takes its inspiration from the wisdom and harmony of the oriental tradition. The balancing of body and mind.

This green tea keeps it's promises and pls don't judge it like another one lemon cologne.Feel it.It is unique!

One of the great unsolved mysteries of humanity for me is the question of why men do not like tea, or rather, why almost all green tea fragrances available are either women's scents or barely classified as unisex. When a perfume lover thinks of tea, they might think of Elizabeth Arden or Bulgari, but certainly not the latest sport flanker from David Beckham.

After all, green tea is actually quite a robust affair, something that could definitely lean towards the masculine in the traditional understanding of gender roles. But no, the gentlemen of creation prefer to spritz chocolate bars or pudding pastries behind their ears and leave a wonderful scent like "Thé Vert" to the ladies. Well, some coffee uncles might think green tea is too much in the direction of a rehab center.

Admittedly, when the generous gift from Mrs. H. from M. reached me some time ago, I thought of Roger & Gallet and the old-fashioned packaging more as grandma's toilet soap than a cool fragrance, but during the few warm days we recently had, it proved to be a great refresher. This may be due to the fact that alongside a beautifully bitter tea note, a whopping three citrus fruits join in: grapefruit, mandarin, and yuzu.

According to the packaging text (it is always amusing to study these desperate acts of creatively challenged copywriters), it is the ideal scent to immerse oneself in the balanced tranquility of a tea garden at the foot of the sacred Fuji, which rises impressively into the sky with its radiant atmosphere. Whether one must have studied Japanology to operate the sprayer, I could not clarify.

She knew it from the moment she opened her eyes.
Something was different in the room, different from last night when she had gone to bed, shivering in the cool night air that had streamed in through the window and tugged at the curtains.
Quickly, she had slipped under the down comforter and had been glad to feel the fluffy beaver of the sheets on her skin, which would otherwise have been banished to the farthest corner of the closet by Easter at the latest.
But Easter had been white this year, whiter than Christmas - instead of hiking boots, she had worn skis on her traditional Easter walk.
She must have misunderstood something about global warming.

But now it was different.
She still didn't know what it was - heavy and warm, the comforter lay on her, wrapping her in a cocoon outside of time and space, the threshold of sleep just a breath away.
Softly, the chirping of a bird reached her, a second responded, bright and clear, a third voice enticing - and suddenly she was awake, listening, straining, still, not wanting to lose any of those first sounds that flowed into her like a half-forgotten melody from childhood.
A light breeze billowed the curtains, brushed over her still-warm cheeks, tickled her nose, and filled her lungs as if by itself.
Surprised, she began to sniff: Cool and clear was the air, smooth and fine like silk, green and golden sparks flickered here and there, dispelling the last veils from her mind.
In one leap, she was out of bed and at the window - pale blue stretched the sky over the still-bare trees, white cotton balls had lost the gray of the long months, milky gold poured over the dark brown earth, which just yesterday seemed never to awaken from its winter slumber.
Tiny green bursts broke through the monotonous surface, from which a male blackbird began to tug at a fat worm.
Further back, the yellow tips of the flowers from that bush, whose name she could never remember, pushed through.

She went to the kitchen, put water on to boil, and filled the teapot with her very own blend - one part Lung Ching, one part jasmine tea.
She loved the light freshness of the Dragon Well, whose fine aroma reminded her of chestnuts and that combined like no other with the floral sweetness of jasmine tea.
The morning sun had reached the pots with her kitchen herbs, the scent of which filled the air and mingled with the lemons in the glass bowl.
She dipped her hands into the stream of light, felt the warmth of the rays, which was so different from the heating air of the past months.
It tingled - she could already feel the damp, rich earth on her palms and fingertips, sensed the blackness under her nails and the small cuts and scratches that would adorn her fair skin in the evening.
She would plant freesias and lily of the valley, the wild jasmine needed to be pruned - she would have to get some soil and this and that...
Quickly, the pencil dashed across the paper as the list grew longer and longer.

But first, she would chase the beaver from the bed.