Lischka

When I first tested Angelique Noire, I thought: nice, but where's the vanilla? After a while, however, the secret came to light. But let me start from the beginning.

From the very first spray, when this blend of spicy-green angelica root and the delicate, for my perception very subtle sweetness of pear appears, my heart leaps with joy. If the perfume were to remain at this point, it would be a pretty scent, but nothing extraordinary. What is particularly impressive (for me) is the refined transition from the beginning of the top note with the angelica root to the complete opposite in the base, which transitions to this indescribably beautiful vanilla note. I perceive it as moderately sweet, but not gourmand or cloying like pudding, a little spicy, but not harsh or edgy. It is not the usual "edible" caramel vanilla, but a fine, powdery, elegant, and warm yet distinct vanilla note.

Creating this fascinating transformation of extremely contrasting yet always exceptionally fine scent impressions is, for me, an art. The only downside is that this beautiful base vanilla note appears relatively late and - at least for me - remains weaker than I would wish. On the other hand, sometimes, out of nowhere, this unmistakable hint of vanilla suddenly appears and misleads me because I cannot define where it comes from. Perhaps there is still a trace of Angelique Noire on a piece of clothing from the previous day that I am perceiving. These moments are particularly lovely, and I wish they were more frequent and, above all, more intense, because the longevity for this horrendous price is almost borderline, in my opinion.

If I could wish for something from Guerlain, I would love to have an Angélique Noire base note concentrate. That would be simply wonderful, as this vanilla base scent is truly one of a kind. So dear Mrs. Andrier: a new order is beckoning (please, please).

But the original remains an outstanding fragrance full of sophistication and a true treasure in my collection.

There are probably many scents that are generally extremely underrated. This is one of them.
In my initial statement about this fragrance, I was still somewhat reserved. In the meantime, this has transformed into true enthusiasm and complete love for the scent.

When I spray Joyeuse Tubereuse, I experience a true olfactory spectacle of nature. In the top notes, the buds and the green of the plant emerge, which is noticeable in a slightly green-herbaceous, moderately sweet, and fresh beginning. The blooming of the flower in all its glory forms the heart note. Here, the scent becomes more and more lovely and sweet-floral with each passing minute - indeed, the splendor of the tuberose - which increasingly comes to the fore and competes for dominance with the vanilla, but then, in the base, graciously yields priority to the vanilla. After a while, the beauty has faded, and if one wishes, one can start the whole spectacle anew with another spray. Then it becomes even more intense.

The Guerlain vanilla develops here as beautifully and vanillic as in very few other fragrances. The combination of tuberose and vanilla truly creates something cheerful that can lift one's spirits. This tuberose does not come across as heavy or cloying (or whatever else is often said about tuberose scents). It is different from what I usually know and is, in the truest sense, cheerful and buoyant, making me happy every time I smell it.

The sweetness of the vanilla here is in no way that caramelized gourmand sweetness found in almost every sweet vanilla scent. Here we find the vanilla also in a sweet, but additionally floral and powdery combination, which is extraordinarily beautiful in my opinion.

As for the other fragrance notes listed in the pyramid, I must say that I can neither smell jasmine nor lily. Luckily, because I always find jasmine very disturbing, especially in combination with tuberose. I also do not perceive the lily. I would be lying if I claimed I could identify the sandalwood individually. The main players here are clearly the tuberose and vanilla, for which I am very grateful to Guerlain.

It is well known that Guerlain skillfully employs vanilla in various combinations. Here it accompanies the floral scent so artistically, so enchantingly, and delicately sweet - indeed, a true fragrance jewel. So far, no other tuberose scent has captivated me more. Here I find no discordant notes that do not belong. Everything is harmoniously connected and shines even better in the hot season.

The longevity is somewhat tolerable if you spray generously. Then this scent is also perceived by others. And to be honest: when do you approach others about their fragrance? Probably only when it is particularly beautiful. And it definitely is.

Scarlet Rouge - It should actually be called "Scarlett's Rouge," because with this name and the appearance of the bottle, I inevitably thought of that famous scene from "Gone with the Wind," when the young, beautiful, and proud Scarlett O'Hara sneaks out of the girls' dormitory at the garden party at "Twelve Oaks" to confess her undying love to her crush, Ashley. To look even more seductive than she already was, she pinched her cheeks to bring out her natural blush. This short but expressive scene shaped my youth, and probably that of entire generations of young girls. From then on, "Scarlett's Rouge" became a beauty tip, and Vivien Leigh was seen as the ultimate beauty ideal. Thanks to Technicolor, it became possible and still looks just as enchanting as ever today.

Perhaps because of the film, but definitely because of my perception of the fragrance, I associate Scarlet Rouge primarily with nostalgia, heavy, velvety curtains, and silk clothing. You could smell the quality of the silk, its authenticity and high value. What a beautiful scent it was! This silk scent, combined with lipstick and makeup fragrances, creates that antique, nostalgic powderiness that I perceive in this perfume.

Although iris is not listed, it is the note that I primarily smell. Whatever creates this fragrance combination is a mystery to me. Probably the almonds, cherry blossoms, musk, and woods together create this impression of silk and powder. In any case, it was not the listed fragrance notes that inspired me to buy this perfume, but the many descriptions here and elsewhere. And I have not regretted it.

Ultimately, the name, bottle, and scent of Scarlet Rouge form a perfect unity that does justice to Scarlett O'Hara's blush.

What a perfume! Now that's what I call a floral scent! After testing other fragrances from the "wardrobe line," my expectations were not too high due to the low success rate. But this one is anything but mediocre.

Anyone who liked the floral scents of the 90s will also enjoy Capeline, as it is a relatively intense floral fragrance. The opening is dominated for just a few seconds by citrus fruits (bergamot, mandarin), after which the heart notes floral arrangement kicks in, igniting a scent fireworks of lily, ylang-ylang, and neroli. Very floral, somewhat lighter and sweet - which sets it apart from the heavy floral scents of the 90s. This combination, especially with the lily, is new to me yet somehow familiar. I do like lilies and find it a shame that their scent is increasingly being bred out in the floral industry. A fragrance lily is hardly available anymore. Yet lilies are noble and nostalgic and are used as floral decoration in English manor houses, so the smell of lilies combined with floor wax has a wonderfully antiquated scent. Well, Capeline does not smell like floor wax. In Capeline, the lily is not so dominant. No, it rather integrates, perhaps sometimes a bit reluctantly, into the floral community between ylang-ylang and neroli. Occasionally, it dares to flash through briefly but is quickly put back in its place by the others. But it doesn't give up. And so it remains a fine floral scent with a little presence of lilies. Unfortunately, after a rather short time, the flowers then quietly say goodbye and give the musk-vanilla base a little chance to say together with the wearer: "Come spray again, and we will return." And bam, they're all back. Charming.

How one could come up with a floppy hat for this fragrance creation is a mystery to me. Because if it has to be a headpiece, then it could at least have been a little cocktail hat. Because this perfume is indeed something special. Elegant, feminine, and not everyday. It is not the green bouquet but the fully ripe, slightly sweetish bloom.

Anyone who does not like oversized floral scents, or lilies in particular, or even gets headaches from them, should steer clear. Because flowers are the main actors here. For me, it is another enrichment of my fragrance world.

This wonderful perfume is described by Chanel as "the refuge of Gabrielle Chanel in the heart of Paris." The address must have been extraordinarily beautiful to inspire such a fragrance and to be named after it. Unfortunately, I have never been there.

As is well known, 31 Rue Cambon is a chypre of the finest kind. As evident in the various fragrance pyramids, it begins lightly citrusy with green notes, which are soon accompanied by rose, iris, and ylang-ylang. I cannot distinguish the individual flowers, as my nose is not that trained. But that probably doesn't matter, since anyone can read about the composition of the floral combination in the fragrance pyramid.

The base is then enriched with very fine woody and slightly spicy, earthy notes that, in conjunction with the delicate citrus and floral notes, evoke for my nose the association of a late summer forest. When I smell the perfume, I see a forest clearing in the afternoon in August under sunshine, namely when the light already appears more golden and slightly muted due to the approaching autumn than it did in early summer, and the fruits, needles, and leaves of the forest trees release their spicy scent through the dryness, while the last meadow flowers still compete for the late insects. Then I feel immediately grounded, and my love for nature spreads within me. That is why I love this perfume so much, and when I wear it, it is only for myself, and I don't care whether others notice it or not.

Ultimately, I can fully empathize with Gabrielle Chanel's thought of naming this fragrance after a "sanctuary." It is truly an "essence of beauty." Will there ever be a more beautiful chypre?