For those wanting to wear a Dua fragrance, it's not been easy in Germany lately: When you visit the Americans' homepage, you find a rich (not to say overwhelming) selection and regular discount promotions, but as soon as you head to the virtual checkout, reality hits. Among the selectable destination countries are the Netherlands, Poland, France, and even Ukraine (!), but Germany is left out in the cold. Even if you have your order shipped to friends or acquaintances abroad, a hefty €30 shipping fee plus potential customs charges apply. There is a German online store, but it only lists "just" 119 fragrances (and this one is not among them), and currently (as of 09.05.2025) only 12 of those are in stock. This is not really practical unless you are a complete ultra of one or more fragrances from this house and absolutely must have them. Personally, I am lucky that a well-off friend regularly spends his vacations in the USA and can bring me a gem or two directly from there. The =3.14 was one of those nearly 2 years ago, but it was only recently added to the database.
While Dua now also has various standalone fragrances (marked on the homepage as "A Dua Fragrances Original Blend"), they have likely gained recognition among most people through their clones or hybrid/tribride/x-bride versions of well-known perfumes. They do not approach this like Lattafa, whose range also consists of many clones but often comes with its own twist. Many Dua fragrances, on the other hand, are 1:1 interpretations, and I can understand those who are put off by this approach, especially when considering the rather aggressive social media marketing in the past. However, in my view, they have quite an ace up their sleeve, and this situation is often self-inflicted by the brands whose fragrances are being copied. It naturally relates to the tiresome issue of reformulations, particularly of successful designer scents. One of these fragrances that has fallen victim to this (presumably) imposed fate by the business administration department is "Pi (Eau de Toilette) | Givenchy." It’s not that I owned it during its heyday, but it was the quasi-signature scent of an acquaintance, which meant I was regularly exposed to it. When I compare the currently available version to my memory of it, two things stand out: On one hand, the current Pi seems fundamentally duller, as if it has been so heavily compressed like an audio file that many nuances have simply been cut off. On the other hand, while the performance is not a disaster, I wouldn’t rate it above average, and even that only with one and a half squinted eyes. Since I wasn’t really satisfied with all of this, I asked the aforementioned acquaintance to get me one of the Dua bottles.
And after I leaned back and sprayed it for the first time, the grin on my face developed all by itself. There it is again, the Pi from the past. The zesty opening with mandarin, which at the beginning receives a fabric softener-like freshness from the aromatic green components, yet never appears musky. And underneath, this absolute heavyweight of a base, the interplay of cedar and benzoin, supported by the sweetness of tonka and vanilla. Nothing sticks out or overpowers; everything is where it belongs. The progression is linear, with only the fresh aspect stepping back after about an hour, though it doesn’t completely disappear. This creates a continuous contrast to the base and allows it to showcase its full strength. Due to the notes used, it naturally comes across as very sweet, but thanks to the aforementioned aromatic freshness and the cedar, it never veers into the sticky territory. Even the mandarin aspect can still be perceived lightly after some time. It’s simply a wonderful fragrance, sexy, playful, but elegant enough to wear even over 30. Speaking of sexy: Ladies, don’t be afraid of the cedar; give it a try when you have the chance!
A few words about the price. 34ml of the Dua costs $33. Since 100ml of the Givenchy, including shipping, can be had for as low as €50, its clone is therefore twice as expensive, and that’s without shipping and customs fees. It’s understandable that this meets with rejection, but it must be noted that, unlike the EdT, this is an extrait. This results in a typical Dua-level excellent longevity, while the sillage, in relation to the duration of the fragrance, is good but doesn’t fill rooms at the beginning. The second and for me more crucial point is that the Pi in this formulation is simply no longer available. Givenchy has evidently entrusted the Gentleman series as its flagship (even though I believe they took the completely wrong exit with the Society... creepy), but apparently does not want to discontinue the Pi and instead lets it languish in obscurity. Because of this decision, I can only conclude with "self-inflicted," as the DNA is by no means outdated or out of fashion. That Dua offers fans like me the opportunity to enjoy the original version (or at least something very close to it) legitimizes the clone for me 100%. Better than with the following fixed English expression, I don’t think the =3.14 can be described: We've come full circle.
