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Top Review
17
Short story of a love-hate relationship
I got the large Trussardi Donna bottle in the 90s from my (now ex-)boyfriend's best friend. While I fortunately never saw my then boyfriend again, I am still very good friends with his friend, who never saw him again either. Twice he brought me a perfume from the airport. Why, I don't know - I suppose the selection in the duty-free shop killed him and his business nose sniffed out big savings. Since he didn't have a girlfriend at the time, I was the lucky one who was able to enjoy these two fragrances: First, Van Cleef Eau de Parfum. Unfortunately I didn't like it, so I gave it to my mother, who in turn gave it to my brother's girlfriend. It stayed there until it was recently used up, I heard. The second fragrance was Trussardi Donna - and I didn't like it either. What a blackjack! What a materialization of shoulder pads and elbow principle! Brutal chypre, at least chypre-like scent, because the moss is missing here in the base. But to think "No moss, no action" would be a fatal miscalculation here - the scent is too deliberately spicy green, due to tons of galbanum, and the supposedly existing tuberose and rose I never smelled out in all these years, I swear. Whenever I wore it, after a while I became noticeably sick, yes, the aversion to this green dominance turned into disgust many times. After some time, this bottle also migrated to my mother.
She preserved it, because she loved the powdery softness that this fragrance, so hard in the opening, developed over time. Only then, after a few hours, does its incredibly elegant potential unfold. When the fresh green opening, spiced with coriander, has evaporated - and that really takes patience - an unspeakably fine, still very unsweet, absolutely unisex green floral quality comes to the surface, which lasts for many more hours and gives the fragrance and its wearer the impression of absolutely serene understatement, just what the bottle and the images accompanying it have always evoked: italian landed gentry, a polo-playing Trussardi heir (at the time, no one knew about Michelle Hunziker), the finest Italian jackets in the style of Scottish Harris tweeds, but made of Florentine cloth - and the overemphasized female counterparts. A fine, self-confident fragrance, without doubt. The longer it lingers, the more wonderfully it develops. Finally, its base is woodsy; I only detect traces of patchouli to an extremely small extent. The beauty of the base is that when it comes, the heart is still beating with life. So the ever dominant green notes blend with the floral heart notes and the woody base to almost perfection.
When I visited my mother, I always sniffed at "my" bottle and the impression of superior elegance never left me. A few weeks ago, I took this bottle back - now that I'm interested in fragrances, it seemed appropriate to incorporate it into my collection, and it's also particularly well suited for Corona times: I don't notice the sharp green top note when I'm doing my work with FFP-2 mask - and at break time, when I take the mask off, the fragrance has long since reached the heart note and unfolds its noble Italian floral bouquet. But when I tried it here, I didn't like it any more and offered it in the souk. This morning, finally, I wore it again during a walk with the dog in the sunny, cool air in the vineyards - and promptly I loved it again and secretly felt like a landowner sifting through her lands. And it was exactly this morning that my bottle was sold and is now finally slipping into the gentle hands of a lover.
All the best, dear Trussardi Donna! We have walked a good part of the way together and there is no need to hide behind romanticisms: I have hated and loved you. Now, finally, I let you go. Be happy!
Top Notes 
Heart Notes 
Base Notes 
Oishani
