HeliaAJ

I've been looking for a citrusy fragrance that really pops for a while now. One that you spray on and that wakes you up straight away, because it's sour, tangy and intense! And of course it would be great if it lasted for at least a few hours, which is all you can expect from fresh citrus fragrances.

With the first spray of Sal y Limón, I thought we were very close!

Fresh, juicy lemon, it tingles in the nose! You can literally taste the acidity. Although not listed, I get a salty note...Fleur de Sel flakes on which the juice of a freshly squeezed lemon slowly drips, the salt slowly dissolves...Wonderful!

And then that was it. Simply gone. Just as it came, it disappears again, leaving behind a faint aftertaste. What remains is a hard to define, inconspicuous 0815 citrus scent, bathroom cleaner vibes, boring. It lasts for a few hours, but doesn't excite me.
What a shame! So close!

I was able to test this interesting fragrance extensively in a group of fragrance enthusiasts. The opinions were very mixed. However, we all agreed that the top note took some getting used to. Although not listed, we smelled plant sap, green, sweetish, perhaps even slightly putrid and unpleasant. A bouquet of tulips that has been standing in water for a while and whose stems are now being trimmed. The water urgently needs to be changed.

After a few minutes, the scent of the tulip flowers gradually unfolds and overlays the strange smell of plant sap. Freesia and woody notes round off the whole thing. After a few hours, I only smell the tulip, very authentic and very close.

Not a purchase option for me. The fragrance reminds me a lot of a flower store, I could almost imagine it as a room fragrance.

This is probably what Maison Margiela had in mind. The fragrance is a fresh, clean cotton scent that I would also expect to find on freshly ironed bed linen. Lily of the valley, a fresh green pear and light rose merge to create a wonderfully fluffy fragrance.

Unfortunately, I can imagine it more as a room fragrance. For an apartment that has just enjoyed a spring clean, this would probably be the right fragrance.

In my opinion, it doesn't come across particularly well on the skin. Unfortunately, I can hardly smell any of the base. For me, the fragrance has a fresh, slightly citrusy opening in the first few seconds, then turns into a clean-laundry scent and disappears. The fragrance doesn't last 2 hours on me. Nothing warm remains, no base. As a result, the fragrance gives me the impression that it doesn't match the skin, that it can't really merge with it. Nevertheless, it is a beautiful fragrance, but it certainly comes into its own more on underwear.

I'm not a big fan of Delina, somehow the whole thing is too rosy sweet for me. Nevertheless, the fragrance is of good quality and a beautiful composition with a soft, sophisticated rose rather than a sultry one. I gave the pink water to a friend for her birthday a while ago and have been smelling it on her ever since. And I was curious about the exlusif.

Delina Exlusif, on the other hand, is a shocker for me. The whole thing smells like the granny version of Delina. I imagine that if you were to spray Delina into an old powder compact, you would probably get a similar smell. The whole thing is powdery and somehow old-fashioned. The freshness, the effervescence and youth are all gone. An aged Delina and unfortunately not aged very well. Je suis désolée.

After reading so many enchanting reviews about Mitsouko, it's kind of hard for me to write my own. I have to admit, I never noticed Mitsouko in the perfumery before. Guerlain's bee bottles somehow seem more playful and interesting, so I've never dared to try this one. I recently ordered a bottle and wanted to be surprised. My interest was piqued by Jean-Claude Ellena's book. There are a few passages on the creation of the famous perfume houses that have had a lasting influence on the world of fragrances.

Mitsouko first came onto the market in 1919 and, if the lady from the niche perfumery is to be believed, it has not changed since then. It smells like it did back then, of course. We all know that this is not the case, but the mere thought is somehow fascinating. The enchanting ladies in festive flapper dresses and long Gatsby-style evening gowns, that's what they smelled like when they weren't wearing Chanel No. 5.

I think without this movie in my head, Mitsouko would have come off much worse. With the knowledge that I am sniffing a piece of perfume history on my wrist, my verdict is mild. I like the sparkling chypre scent overlaid with ripe, sweet peach and oakmoss. Spicy and light, but somehow also intense and heavy. Somehow beautiful. Perhaps a luxuriously dressed old lady in a dusty library. Unfortunately, I can't imagine it on young people. But who knows, maybe one day I'll be an old lady wearing Mitsouko. You never know.