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New Brooms Sweep Well
I am aware that benevolent statements about reformulations and new releases are often perceived by die-hard fans of the "originals" as iconoclasm, sacrilege. I do not exempt myself from this. As a long-time owner of the "original" - to what extent it is not anachronistic to equate a well-aged and concentrated scent in a bottle with the new bottle purchased many moons ago is debatable - I dare to say that this fragrance has its right to exist. Below, I would like to explain why and compare the scent itself with the old version - first from memory, and then in direct juxtaposition.
The fragrance is available in two sizes, 100 ml and 15 ml, and this (as of 2024) exclusively on the Jean Paul Gaultier website. The bottle design is simple, the larger one is square, its sprayer is adorned with a kind of "slave ring," and the name is broken up over several lines. I like the bottle - unlike the 15 ml version, which comes very plain in a cylindrical bottle with a simple, gold cap and whose lettering is linear. The design evokes for me the cheap "Spirit" fragrances from the drugstore.
The fragrance notes are all very heavy and therefore cannot be divided into top, heart, and base notes, encompassing jasmine, vanilla, musk, amber, and sandalwood, in which the old scent from 2005 has been complemented by jasmine and sandalwood. When the scent is sprayed on, with knowledge of the old version, the olfactory impression is prima facie the same for me: warmth, a slight sting, sweetness, and something slightly animalistic. However, without having made a direct comparison, I instinctively knew that the similarity in juxtaposition would be much less, because: I like this one. There is a reason why I still have the rest of the old version. I was not enthusiastic. I go so far as to say that I did not like it. On me, it was very sharp, headache-inducing, somehow wrong, almost like it had gone off. Perhaps it was also because I bought my small bottle back then to cover up an olfactory jumpscare, the first time I encountered Jicky on my wrist. Who knows. The intensity is, in my opinion, at least the same, very strong and very long-lasting.
After wearing the fragrance today and a priori finding that it is, with reservations, a worthy replacement, I rummaged through my stepchildren in the back of my perfume cabinet to make a direct comparison to the old version. And lo and behold: contrasted, clear differences emerge, which in my opinion could especially influence the demographics that will feel addressed by the scent.
The now included jasmine makes the new version significantly sweeter and, in my opinion, rounder - one person's "roundness" can, however, be another's "diffuse indefinability," nothing stands out in the new version, nor is anything distinctly recognizable. In contrast, amber is the absolute star of the old version - in my opinion, the scent therefore has quite a Le Male vibe compared to the new release, almost "shower gel-like." However, this unbridled amber made the scent borderline undrinkable for me. For this reason, I believe that the new fragrance has much more unisex appeal, pun not intended, than the, in my opinion, somewhat more feminine new version, which I generally consider to be more pleasing, less eccentric, and much more palatable. Apologies to the purists: If it was too strong back then, then I was just too weak.
Could this have been a flanker? Certainly. Should the new one HAVE TO be labeled as a flanker? I don’t think so. What matters to me is that I like it. Not everything was better in the past, and there were reasons why the old version was discontinued, and I find, for once, that the new fragrance surpasses the old one.
The fragrance is available in two sizes, 100 ml and 15 ml, and this (as of 2024) exclusively on the Jean Paul Gaultier website. The bottle design is simple, the larger one is square, its sprayer is adorned with a kind of "slave ring," and the name is broken up over several lines. I like the bottle - unlike the 15 ml version, which comes very plain in a cylindrical bottle with a simple, gold cap and whose lettering is linear. The design evokes for me the cheap "Spirit" fragrances from the drugstore.
The fragrance notes are all very heavy and therefore cannot be divided into top, heart, and base notes, encompassing jasmine, vanilla, musk, amber, and sandalwood, in which the old scent from 2005 has been complemented by jasmine and sandalwood. When the scent is sprayed on, with knowledge of the old version, the olfactory impression is prima facie the same for me: warmth, a slight sting, sweetness, and something slightly animalistic. However, without having made a direct comparison, I instinctively knew that the similarity in juxtaposition would be much less, because: I like this one. There is a reason why I still have the rest of the old version. I was not enthusiastic. I go so far as to say that I did not like it. On me, it was very sharp, headache-inducing, somehow wrong, almost like it had gone off. Perhaps it was also because I bought my small bottle back then to cover up an olfactory jumpscare, the first time I encountered Jicky on my wrist. Who knows. The intensity is, in my opinion, at least the same, very strong and very long-lasting.
After wearing the fragrance today and a priori finding that it is, with reservations, a worthy replacement, I rummaged through my stepchildren in the back of my perfume cabinet to make a direct comparison to the old version. And lo and behold: contrasted, clear differences emerge, which in my opinion could especially influence the demographics that will feel addressed by the scent.
The now included jasmine makes the new version significantly sweeter and, in my opinion, rounder - one person's "roundness" can, however, be another's "diffuse indefinability," nothing stands out in the new version, nor is anything distinctly recognizable. In contrast, amber is the absolute star of the old version - in my opinion, the scent therefore has quite a Le Male vibe compared to the new release, almost "shower gel-like." However, this unbridled amber made the scent borderline undrinkable for me. For this reason, I believe that the new fragrance has much more unisex appeal, pun not intended, than the, in my opinion, somewhat more feminine new version, which I generally consider to be more pleasing, less eccentric, and much more palatable. Apologies to the purists: If it was too strong back then, then I was just too weak.
Could this have been a flanker? Certainly. Should the new one HAVE TO be labeled as a flanker? I don’t think so. What matters to me is that I like it. Not everything was better in the past, and there were reasons why the old version was discontinued, and I find, for once, that the new fragrance surpasses the old one.
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Letting Go/Eau de Nice
It follows a rather lengthy, lamenting introduction.
Fragrances can be evaluated in very different ways. Each perfume entry as a standalone work. One can compare fragrances with similar notes that have a similar scent character, with fragrances from a certain period, fragrances that one associates with a certain type of person. Do fragrances belong together under a brand? Or those of a perfumer? I assert that fundamentally these schemas are very subjective. Nevertheless, and I apologize for the extrapolation, I think that all fragrances under the Thierry Mugler label, and to a certain extent still under "Mugler" under the aegis of L'Oreal, are connected by a common thread, the essence of which was the eccentricity and love of their father, Manfred Thierry Mugler. I was launched in the same year as Angel, grew up with it, and Alien was omnipresent in my formative years. As a result, I had an inherent aversion to the L'Oreal creations, particularly those that appeared after Mugler's death. They belonged, and to be honest and let the "It" speak from within me, still do not belong. I once had a lecture where it was explained that quality of life can be measured by how close reality and desire are to each other - and sometimes, when there is no other way, one has to lower their expectations. Mugler is dead. In every sense. The eccentric fragrances, loving, diverse bottles, the campaigns, the love. Gone. In the meantime, I have come to terms with Mugler 2.0. Mugler is nice. The fragrances that adorn themselves with names, foreign feathers from glorious past times, are as well.
Enough first-world whining.
The bottle, like the rest of the standalone Muglers now unified under L'Oreal, corresponds in design to the Alien bottle, but has a champagne-colored hue. The packaging is white and decorated with the outlines of flowers.
The fragrance opens slightly citrusy fresh with bergamot in the top note, which then gradually fades and remains merely as a veil over the rather sweet other notes, preventing them from ever becoming sticky.
Alongside the citrus freshness, the coconut is immediately perceptible and harmonizes perfectly with the contained vanilla and jasmine sambac. This conglomerate may seem somewhat diffuse in the lack of distinction of the individual notes, but the included Egyptian jasmine prevents the fragrance from drifting into sticky confectionery, and there is also a correspondence to the original Alien. For this reason, I prefer it compared to the Intense version, as that one contains a much more indolic, classic jasmine and consequently reminds me more of Hypnotic Poison than Alien.
After the fading of the top note, the fragrance becomes quite linear for me, which I don't find too bothersome.
The scent character overall reminds me of very luxurious sunscreen due to the white flowers and coconut - but has better longevity than fragrances like Beach Walk and the like. I give it about eight hours, the sillage is in the upper midfield. The most similar fragrance that comes to mind is Mancera's "Coco Vanille," which, however, is much more sour-fruity and a bit stronger. The fragrance is heavy, but still quite summery - in my opinion, predestined for not too hot summer days or spring.
All in all, solid. I am glad that I have been able to let go of the old man in the meantime and am happy to be able to enjoy this fragrance.
Fragrances can be evaluated in very different ways. Each perfume entry as a standalone work. One can compare fragrances with similar notes that have a similar scent character, with fragrances from a certain period, fragrances that one associates with a certain type of person. Do fragrances belong together under a brand? Or those of a perfumer? I assert that fundamentally these schemas are very subjective. Nevertheless, and I apologize for the extrapolation, I think that all fragrances under the Thierry Mugler label, and to a certain extent still under "Mugler" under the aegis of L'Oreal, are connected by a common thread, the essence of which was the eccentricity and love of their father, Manfred Thierry Mugler. I was launched in the same year as Angel, grew up with it, and Alien was omnipresent in my formative years. As a result, I had an inherent aversion to the L'Oreal creations, particularly those that appeared after Mugler's death. They belonged, and to be honest and let the "It" speak from within me, still do not belong. I once had a lecture where it was explained that quality of life can be measured by how close reality and desire are to each other - and sometimes, when there is no other way, one has to lower their expectations. Mugler is dead. In every sense. The eccentric fragrances, loving, diverse bottles, the campaigns, the love. Gone. In the meantime, I have come to terms with Mugler 2.0. Mugler is nice. The fragrances that adorn themselves with names, foreign feathers from glorious past times, are as well.
Enough first-world whining.
The bottle, like the rest of the standalone Muglers now unified under L'Oreal, corresponds in design to the Alien bottle, but has a champagne-colored hue. The packaging is white and decorated with the outlines of flowers.
The fragrance opens slightly citrusy fresh with bergamot in the top note, which then gradually fades and remains merely as a veil over the rather sweet other notes, preventing them from ever becoming sticky.
Alongside the citrus freshness, the coconut is immediately perceptible and harmonizes perfectly with the contained vanilla and jasmine sambac. This conglomerate may seem somewhat diffuse in the lack of distinction of the individual notes, but the included Egyptian jasmine prevents the fragrance from drifting into sticky confectionery, and there is also a correspondence to the original Alien. For this reason, I prefer it compared to the Intense version, as that one contains a much more indolic, classic jasmine and consequently reminds me more of Hypnotic Poison than Alien.
After the fading of the top note, the fragrance becomes quite linear for me, which I don't find too bothersome.
The scent character overall reminds me of very luxurious sunscreen due to the white flowers and coconut - but has better longevity than fragrances like Beach Walk and the like. I give it about eight hours, the sillage is in the upper midfield. The most similar fragrance that comes to mind is Mancera's "Coco Vanille," which, however, is much more sour-fruity and a bit stronger. The fragrance is heavy, but still quite summery - in my opinion, predestined for not too hot summer days or spring.
All in all, solid. I am glad that I have been able to let go of the old man in the meantime and am happy to be able to enjoy this fragrance.
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What must perfume achieve?
This will simply be the silliest review of all time.
I bought the fragrance heavily discounted a few years ago when it was sold out in the drugstore because the packaging was changed and DM removed it from their range as a result.
The old packaging was, like today’s bottle, a red apple with golden lettering, but with rounder shapes and the spray head in the form of a thin stem, which was regularly broken off by testers from cognitively and socially less fortunate individuals. Very cute, especially when you own several Lempicka apple bottles. I found this iteration of the bottle cuter than the new one, but I understand the issues with the delicate sprayer.
Since I’m more of a Rossmann girl, I always took a scent strip with Sweet during special visits to DM, actually with the certainty that I would never want to wear or buy it. The former hasn’t changed to this day. So why did the woman always sniff it? Why the hell did the old lady buy it then?
Quite simply.
I find it amusing. Sprayed on, it smells like: cherry lollipops. Artificial cherry. Nothing else, at best a hint of floral notes and soft musk in the background. Very linear. Not particularly long-lasting or projecting. If I had to compare it, I would say it’s a kindergarten sketch of Petite Robe Noire. Not classy, not expensive, not seductive. Brazen in its simplicity. Who wants to smell like this? Who formulated it thinking that someone would want to smell like this? Questions to which I have no answers. And yet I always ran over and smelled it, simply because it made me giggle. I took it with me because it made me laugh. And here the question arises: What must perfume achieve? In this case,
certainly not to feel self-assured or like a seductive succubus, not serious for a trip to the bank. In this case, and I want to emphasize this point, for ME not even to wear it at all. But to put a smile on my face. And that’s enough for me.
I bought the fragrance heavily discounted a few years ago when it was sold out in the drugstore because the packaging was changed and DM removed it from their range as a result.
The old packaging was, like today’s bottle, a red apple with golden lettering, but with rounder shapes and the spray head in the form of a thin stem, which was regularly broken off by testers from cognitively and socially less fortunate individuals. Very cute, especially when you own several Lempicka apple bottles. I found this iteration of the bottle cuter than the new one, but I understand the issues with the delicate sprayer.
Since I’m more of a Rossmann girl, I always took a scent strip with Sweet during special visits to DM, actually with the certainty that I would never want to wear or buy it. The former hasn’t changed to this day. So why did the woman always sniff it? Why the hell did the old lady buy it then?
Quite simply.
I find it amusing. Sprayed on, it smells like: cherry lollipops. Artificial cherry. Nothing else, at best a hint of floral notes and soft musk in the background. Very linear. Not particularly long-lasting or projecting. If I had to compare it, I would say it’s a kindergarten sketch of Petite Robe Noire. Not classy, not expensive, not seductive. Brazen in its simplicity. Who wants to smell like this? Who formulated it thinking that someone would want to smell like this? Questions to which I have no answers. And yet I always ran over and smelled it, simply because it made me giggle. I took it with me because it made me laugh. And here the question arises: What must perfume achieve? In this case,
certainly not to feel self-assured or like a seductive succubus, not serious for a trip to the bank. In this case, and I want to emphasize this point, for ME not even to wear it at all. But to put a smile on my face. And that’s enough for me.
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Stinky Socks Deluxe
Wow, it’s really been a while since I last posted a fragrance review - so here we go. Forgive me if it’s a bit bumpy.
Surprisingly, this is the first review of this fragrance.
The fragrance Rose Berberanza comes from the exclusive Maison line of Lancôme and is available in 100 ml for a retail price of 220 euros. The bottle is made of glass and features a rose gold metal plate on the back, from which a rose pattern has been punched out, allowing us to see through the reddish liquid. The cap is magnetic and golden. The outer packaging is matte white, and a textured label on the front echoes the rose gold metal plate. Overall, the packaging looks high-quality and quite elegant, although not nearly as luxurious as competitors from Guerlain.
Now to the fragrance itself. It starts with a punch. We perceive a rather generic rose jam-vanilla-berry syrup conglomerate. Smelled this way many times before - Mancera Rose Vanille, Tresor Nuit à la Folie, and the like. Hyper-feminine, very sweet, but also a bit forgettable. At the same time, we are hit with a concentrated pistachio in juxtaposition. In this configuration, it comes across as very bitter, out of place, almost stinky - which is often noted by users on various platforms. Nevertheless, this so-called stinky note manages to pull the fragrance out of the sweet-nice-forgotten corner and provides a welcome edge.
As the fragrance develops, rose and pistachio noticeably recede, and the scent becomes more harmonious; the notes stand together, no longer against each other. The pistachio no longer pushes to the forefront but instead supports the sweet notes, creating a successful, stylish grounding. In my opinion, it has a similar effect to a musk or wood base - depth and dimension. Oud remains subtly in the background.
The fragrance is, as usual for the Maison line, very long-lasting but has a much greater projection than the other semi-florals in the range.
Alongside Montale's Intense Café, in my opinion, the best fragrance in this theme.
Addendum:
I remember reading that people find it similar to Angel, and I can confirm this in hindsight. Super sweet and a bit messy; imagine a lady who has just come from Angel biting into a rose-raspberry jelly bun ;)
Surprisingly, this is the first review of this fragrance.
The fragrance Rose Berberanza comes from the exclusive Maison line of Lancôme and is available in 100 ml for a retail price of 220 euros. The bottle is made of glass and features a rose gold metal plate on the back, from which a rose pattern has been punched out, allowing us to see through the reddish liquid. The cap is magnetic and golden. The outer packaging is matte white, and a textured label on the front echoes the rose gold metal plate. Overall, the packaging looks high-quality and quite elegant, although not nearly as luxurious as competitors from Guerlain.
Now to the fragrance itself. It starts with a punch. We perceive a rather generic rose jam-vanilla-berry syrup conglomerate. Smelled this way many times before - Mancera Rose Vanille, Tresor Nuit à la Folie, and the like. Hyper-feminine, very sweet, but also a bit forgettable. At the same time, we are hit with a concentrated pistachio in juxtaposition. In this configuration, it comes across as very bitter, out of place, almost stinky - which is often noted by users on various platforms. Nevertheless, this so-called stinky note manages to pull the fragrance out of the sweet-nice-forgotten corner and provides a welcome edge.
As the fragrance develops, rose and pistachio noticeably recede, and the scent becomes more harmonious; the notes stand together, no longer against each other. The pistachio no longer pushes to the forefront but instead supports the sweet notes, creating a successful, stylish grounding. In my opinion, it has a similar effect to a musk or wood base - depth and dimension. Oud remains subtly in the background.
The fragrance is, as usual for the Maison line, very long-lasting but has a much greater projection than the other semi-florals in the range.
Alongside Montale's Intense Café, in my opinion, the best fragrance in this theme.
Addendum:
I remember reading that people find it similar to Angel, and I can confirm this in hindsight. Super sweet and a bit messy; imagine a lady who has just come from Angel biting into a rose-raspberry jelly bun ;)
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Oajan from the Gumball Machine
After I sent my friend to the desert last week, I was in the mood for something else cheap that smells like tobacco.
Since Herod is not cheap and seems to have been "reformulated" (that delightful euphemism for "diluted") and Richwarmaddictive from Zara wasn't tobacco-heavy enough for me, I remembered that there was still 1 Million Privé, which I could vaguely recall.
I ordered the fragrance half-blind based on my memory - all the testers in the city center were either empty or stolen (one might be cheeky to draw any conclusions about the audience of this fragrance...).
The box strongly resembles Tom Ford in its dark, shiny bronze; some might say it’s trying too hard, but not me, because I like it. The name of the fragrance is highlighted in gold.
The bottle continues the color scheme but otherwise resembles the original Million.
The scent opens on me primarily with cinnamon - the tobacco is also noticeable and the perfume appears quite rounded, albeit very sweet. The comparison with Oajan seems understandable, although 1 Million Privé comes across as somewhat synthetic and piercing.
Unfortunately, this impression doesn’t last long.
After about half an hour, the tobacco noticeably retreats and reveals the blood orange note, which doesn’t quite want to join the rest of the fragrance but rather lays next to the other notes, almost overshadowing them. This note gives me a strong gumball vibe, reminiscent of the original 1M. Not even deliciously gourmand, but rather shower gel-like. It also becomes increasingly sweeter.
The tobacco appears weak and harsh in juxtaposition, no honey, no vanilla like in similar fragrances that smooth it out - the indicated tonka absolute is not perceptible to me. If there were a gumball with a tobacco flavor, it would taste like this :3
After an hour, I only perceive cinnamon blood orange, tobacco only when I bury my nose in my wrist.
At this stage, the fragrance is fortunately no longer strongly noticeable - longevity and sillage are okay, but not groundbreaking.
I would definitely describe the fragrance as unisex.
All in all, I like the fragrance, but not so much that I would need more than a decant, let alone the 100ml bottle that I shopped out of frustration. Better and prettier than the ex, for sure ;)
Since Herod is not cheap and seems to have been "reformulated" (that delightful euphemism for "diluted") and Richwarmaddictive from Zara wasn't tobacco-heavy enough for me, I remembered that there was still 1 Million Privé, which I could vaguely recall.
I ordered the fragrance half-blind based on my memory - all the testers in the city center were either empty or stolen (one might be cheeky to draw any conclusions about the audience of this fragrance...).
The box strongly resembles Tom Ford in its dark, shiny bronze; some might say it’s trying too hard, but not me, because I like it. The name of the fragrance is highlighted in gold.
The bottle continues the color scheme but otherwise resembles the original Million.
The scent opens on me primarily with cinnamon - the tobacco is also noticeable and the perfume appears quite rounded, albeit very sweet. The comparison with Oajan seems understandable, although 1 Million Privé comes across as somewhat synthetic and piercing.
Unfortunately, this impression doesn’t last long.
After about half an hour, the tobacco noticeably retreats and reveals the blood orange note, which doesn’t quite want to join the rest of the fragrance but rather lays next to the other notes, almost overshadowing them. This note gives me a strong gumball vibe, reminiscent of the original 1M. Not even deliciously gourmand, but rather shower gel-like. It also becomes increasingly sweeter.
The tobacco appears weak and harsh in juxtaposition, no honey, no vanilla like in similar fragrances that smooth it out - the indicated tonka absolute is not perceptible to me. If there were a gumball with a tobacco flavor, it would taste like this :3
After an hour, I only perceive cinnamon blood orange, tobacco only when I bury my nose in my wrist.
At this stage, the fragrance is fortunately no longer strongly noticeable - longevity and sillage are okay, but not groundbreaking.
I would definitely describe the fragrance as unisex.
All in all, I like the fragrance, but not so much that I would need more than a decant, let alone the 100ml bottle that I shopped out of frustration. Better and prettier than the ex, for sure ;)
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