Vaniglia del Madagascar Spezierie Palazzo Vecchio 1994 Eau de Parfum

This is not your mama's Vanilla Fields. Vaniglia del Madagascar is the purest vanilla I've smelled, a true reference vanilla that is as gourmand as I ever get, and even so, it is balanced out by a lily of the valley, with its green/white floral quality preventing it from being 100% edible smelling.

This suggests a custard cream vanilla, nothing boozy, nothing floozy, nothing gussied up with 31 flavors from the sweet shop. It is a natural smelling, straight from the bean vanilla in its dry down, lightly frosted and low in sugar. There are intermittent moments of tasty toasted marshmallows, too, but the lily of the valley overtones linger on my skin, which is a lovely contrast to it all.

After getting a whiff of the highly praised Vanilla West Indies today, I had to admit to myself again that I already know and own the best, (almost) pure vanilla scent. Yes, St. Barth is good, there's certainly no complaint there. Delicate authentic vanilla, my first thought is Wibele (a typical pastry here in Baden-Württemberg, do you know it?) But somehow it lacks that certain something. And by that, I don't mean significantly different notes playing along. Something is missing to make the scent perfect for me. And that's exactly what Vaniglia del Madagascar from IPdF has! Most of my predecessors have aptly described that certain something about this scent: It is not just one-dimensional vanilla, but creamy. It has such a soft, noble cream note that I can't specify further, which wonderfully rounds off the vanilla. Slightly powdery, I would almost say. Lily of the valley now rather puts me off, as I generally don't like lily of the valley scents. And incense, like in Eau Duelle, is definitely not it either. That smells great combined with vanilla, but completely, completely different.

No question, if I didn't know this one, St. Barth would be close to the holy grail of vanilla scents for me. But I have already found my grail, even if the vanilla here doesn't come across as completely pure.

It's intense, the IPdF, and as a wearer, you tend to underestimate the sillage, as it comes across so harmless and delicate. Longevity is superb. And for me, it is definitely a winter scent. One that I am already looking forward to on the cooler days that will soon come!

I got to know the brand "I Profumi di Firenze/Spezierie Palazzo Vecchio" through a very nice perfumist who also introduced me to this community.
From the very beginning, these fragrances spoke to me: it’s a kind of "soul connection".
I feel the same way about the compositions from the ladies of the Annick Goutal house, whose acquaintance I also made through this woman.

Lily of the valley belongs to my "great floral wonders"; I love these little "stinkers" that bravely stretch their slender spikes out from the dark green leaf rosettes every spring, heralding the most beautiful season with their intense fragrance alongside the first rays of sunshine.
I usually bring home at least one little bouquet from my walks in spring; even though I know I have to set it in front of the balcony door in the evening: from dusk onwards, I can no longer tolerate them in the room, just like many other white flowers; because then they "power up" and, as is well known, they take no prisoners:
"The Winner is Lily of the Valley!"

Naturally, I was eager to test "Vaniglia del Madagascar".
What a light yet rich vanilla cream scent!
Thanks to the loosely whipped cream, this vanilla is not as creamy and heavy as often found, but seems to float lightly over the skin like on an air cushion.
Years ago, I read that Madagascar vanilla is always airier and lighter (fluffier) and not as sweet, sticky, and paste-like as its sisters from the Caribbean.
(Although these originally also come from Madagascar and conquered "the new world" on ships as "accompaniments" and became established there.)
That’s why it fits so excellently with this creamy fragrance delicacy and tenderly murmurs around the lily of the valley, as if it wants to neither hurt nor suffocate them, but only embrace them lovingly.

I know and love many of the heavy warm, sometimes luscious vanilla fragrances, where this smooth vanilla fragrance goddess seemingly glides lazily and sensually creamy-white, and whose full-bodied scent flow is usually still marbled with golden-brown streaks of patchouli or sandalwood.
I am all the more delighted to get to know this Italian-stylish creation:
A "sunshine vanilla," interspersed with charming lily of the valley flower islands.

Dottore Giovanni di Massimo has once again created a delightful composition; he has been responsible for fragrance development at this brand for several years and continues to delight me with his creations.
(His sister Francesca is also a very lovely lady who gladly and precisely answers any questions.)

"Vaniglia del Madagascar," tested here as Eau de Parfum, is also available as "Fragranza Concentrata".
Thanks to Gelis, I was able to enjoy this as well: richer and fuller-bodied, this fragrance concentrate is deeper and naturally more expressive; only the light "vanilla cloud flight" I seek here in vain.

Vanilla fragrances are a vast world of their own; "Vaniglia del Madagascar" from the treasure chest of Palazzo Vecchio clearly swims against the general heavy fragrance trend and is therefore something truly special.
"È una preziosità speciale"

A yellow-brown lemur monkey with huge black blinking eyes is tumbling around in my living room. Nocturnal, it swings back and forth between cabinets and chandeliers, poops on the sofa, tears down curtains, and annoys me and my two pets quite a lot.
But I will keep it.
It brought me the Madagascar vanilla from I Profumi di Firenze. A vanilla scent that brilliantly reinterprets the common - and boring - theme of vanilla.
This vanilla is not fermented: It is not black, smoky, wrinkled, deeply grounding, or darkly spicy-sweet. Rather, it is bright, cheerful, young, and extraordinarily creamy. It corresponds incredibly well with a firm, spring-fresh green floral kick, given to it by a radiant lily of the valley, and has a decent sillage without claiming too much weight.

How can a scent be so straightforward, uncomplicated, and simple while also being so subtle? Vaniglia del Madagascar is a completely new olfactory experience in this regard. There is no comparison to the grand Guerlain composition in terms of vanilla. No significant development:
At first, the green floral aspect is prominent, and in just a short time, it transforms into a pure floral note that accompanies the vanilla. A bit of light wood is also included, and that’s it.
But even without great effort and an Oscar-worthy script, this scent is characterful, nuanced, and appealing. The simple yet so exciting vanilla note keeps inviting you to sniff again and again.
I still think I can catch a very, very faint hint of incense at the end, but that’s actually irrelevant to the overall impression:
A charming, cheerful vanilla with lovely floral notes and no darkness. An exciting, charming, and expressive scent despite all its simplicity.

*looks into the living room* Um… what do lemurs actually eat?

Thank you, thank you, dear parfuma, for placing it in the souk and for me to get it. It's truly a hit, so cozy and so beautifully creamy and powdery. This could become my vanilla grail.
Doesn't anyone smell lemon in the opening? For me, it's an essential component, just as I'm quite sure that Ylang-Ylang is included, perfectly accentuated, in the right measure.
The image of my vanilla ice cream sundae: a beautiful vanilla pod, freshly sliced open, wrapped in the finest threads of cotton candy, adorned with freshly sliced lemons, yellow Ylang flowers, and a few naturally tossed lily of the valley flowers.
You think it's sweet from the cotton candy, but before it becomes too much, lemon and lily of the valley dance in and bring a wonderful freshness to the otherwise creamy-sweet scent.
One should apply it sparingly, otherwise, you might get used to it too much, which is why I deduct half a point. The sillage is quite substantial and it lasts forever. Later, a subtly smoky note even joins in for me, but not too much; you can hardly tell if it's smoky or powdery.
I, for one, am floating on vanilla clouds in seventh heaven.