Anessa

...at least for this fragrance.

The first time, my expectation of a crisp and dewy rose was instantly betrayed by a non-natural, high-pitched, headache-inducing strong peony which went through a phase of astringent air-freshener and settled to a soapy and salty musky dry down.

However, when I tested again after a couple of years, Rose Fraîche surprised me with fresh but delicate pink petals I could have covered myself with. What had happened to my nose? Anyway, I was happy to use it from spring to early summer as my morning refreshing cologne and never get tired of it.

And then, all of a sudden, it shifted again. After I even secured some backup bottles, I noticed that it smelt the same as in the beginning, or even worse - fruit and citrus translating as a sticky sweet-sourness usurping the much appreciated fresh rose. Combined with the bitterness of wood, it created such an unpleasant, artificially acidic staleness on my skin like that of a spoilt canned grapefruit to the extent of causing nausea. The fragrance had not even turned, as a new bottle had the same effect on me.

Whatever factors were involved in this drastic change in perception - as much as I can tell from the time I actually liked it, I agree that Rose Fraîche delivers a fresh, pink rose that is much closer to peony. It has been likened to Atlas Mountain Rose by The Body Shop, and Paul Smith; I cannot comment on the latter, but I do find that the citrusy opening of Atlas Mountain Rose is the only similarity to Rose Fraîche. The Body Shop's rose is more rounded and sweeter in the base, without any bitter sourness.

Even with a lower projection and shorter longevity, I prefer the other rose version. Apparently the mix of fruit and wood did not work for me.

Originally written 10/28/2015

Edited to add: As of autumn 2019, the Un Matin au Jardin line was discontinued.

If you are curious about the smell inside this unique bottle, but do not have an easy access to it, I would recommend trying Jeanne Arthes "Sultane".
This one, in accordance with the more 'sensual' shape compared to the fancy bottle of Sultane, is like its mature (or, more advanced) version - more musky and with an oily undertone. While both fragrances have similar notes, the only difference for me is the weight or density. In addition, the peach in Sultane has a stronger tea-like nuance, and the whole composition remains lighter than the Tuscan Soul, which seems to be melancholically inclined - a sultry, peachy floriental, suitable for cooler seasons.

Someone who generally prefers the 'warm, sensual, cosy' type of fragrance (and peach flavouring in particular) might appreciate this more. For my part, I couldn't wear it in either variation, but I'm still intrigued by the peculiar headpiece - resembling a sauna turban, glass noodles or water poured out from an urn.

Edited to add: As Dr.Ricaud latest pyramid reveals, my nose was not mistaken about the proximity of Âme Toscane to Arthes' Sultane - the top and base notes are identical, the heart consists of a similar set of peach and a white florals (jasmine/freesia), leaving the 'Tuscan iris' as the distinguishing note. A heads-up for the fans of the uniquely shaped bottle: it has now been given up in favour of the unifying trend.

(review for the 2014 version)
Roses et Reines could be summed up for me in two songs: The Disney happ ending fairy tales for girls who dream of being princesses, representing the idea that girls are made of sugar and spice (and pink and ribbons and 'everything nice'), and the other Russian version which counts flowers and jam among further 'ingredients' of a girl.

The roses in full bloom lasted only the first few minutes before they passed the scepter to the berry pot, which dominated until the end, leaving me somewhat feel betrayed (as in, 'Et tu, L'Occitane!'); even more so when it developed an unexpectedly persistent projection for the next few hours, which disturbed my mind with its sugary, fruity stickiness.
There is another fragrance named "Spirit of Wild Roses" by Spirit, sold at drugstores for a fraction of L'Occitane's price, and it resembles this perfume with its pink, rose-flavoured, jam-like sweetness.

I for one wished the opening had remained longer. As it is, I had not expected this kind of contemporary, musky sugariness from this brand, and found that the fragrance lacked either a natural freshness or more depth, especially given its name and association. I imagine that this fragrance will delight fans of sweetened roses and 'pink' fragrances in general.

Too many years have passed since my last visit to the eponymous city to draw any comparisons. However, I could tell without a doubt that to me, this is a quieter, more rounded Jacomo Silences Purple, which allegedly resembles Dior Addict (pre-reformulation).
Un Jardin à Paris begins in the same vein as Boucheron's Place Vendôme Eau de Toilette, with a delicate blend of citrus and white flowers (perhaps this is not a coincidence after all?) While the square is filled with romantic rose-coloured bushes under a pale blue sky and eventually turns powder-sugary and musky, the garden, probably with lanterns lit at the creeping dawn, exudes an exotic, bright yellow scent of Ylang-Ylang and creamy sandalwood with just a hint of vanilla.
As stereotypical as this may be, I would say that - with reference to the Western zodiac signs - Place Vendôme EDT has, for me, the characteristics attributed to the 'Air' group (or Gemini, to be precise) with its effervescence, and Un Jardin, although much more toned down than Silences Purple, reminds of the 'Earth' group (mostly Taurus) with its somewhat weighty, 'down-to-earth' sensuality.

With this being said, the florals became a little bit too loud at some point, that I already saw headache signs blinking. Furthermore, not only its tenacity of half a day, but also the projection in the first 2-3 hours could challenge the nose with generous application, if one had relied on the innocently pale colour of the liquid. The scent seemed to develop better on warmer skin, as on my 'colder' wrist the emphasis was on artificial citrus notes with little depth. Overall, I clearly find Un Jardin an autumn to winter scent that may not quite live up to the expectations raised by its name and design - or perhaps it was just me who had associated the fragrance with fresh springtime flowers rather than an exotic summer night, without looking at the notes.

If it were for me, Madame's love would have to have been in spring at first sight, and unfortunately only of short duration.
From the opening with peony to the citrusy dry down, the fragrance remained light and transparent like the colour of the liquid, with a slightly fruity aftertaste of peach, absorbed by floral notes. The whole composition feels rather pale and thin, as if the base or the heart was missing, and soon after the pleasant start, osmanthus paired with citrus notes became stronger as a diluted sourness - the same development as in Lanvin Me L'Eau or Lempicka L'Eau Jolie.

I cannot say anything about its similarity to Gucci Floral EDT without having tried the latter. But both the bottle and the white box with its floral borders show a clear connection to the "source of inspiration", and the first smell immediately struck me as familiar.
It's a quiet, spring-like, light, and feminine floral scent along the lines of the fragrances mentioned above, with the distinctive notes of peony, osmanthus, and citrus, suitable for any situation that requires a subtle scent. The longevity is more like that of an EDT. Even though it went sour on my skin, Madame in Love is definitely one of those I would prefer to other perfumes of this brand.