Anessa

Sparkling White Diamonds is another fragrance where I seem to be in the minority with my experience.
This was repeatedly called a "soft", "sparkling/fresh" scent elsewhere, with romantic associations ranging from Elsa of Disney's Frozen to snow angels and ice queens which added to my curiosity. Encouraged by the predominantly positive feedback, I finally dared a blind purchase, lacking any testing opportunity.
This being just my second Elizabeth Taylor fragrance after Gardenia, I never came to smell the original White Diamonds; therefore, I had no idea what kind of fragrance to expect.

Coming straight to the point, this perfume did not have any 'soft' nor 'fresh' characteristics to my understanding of these words. It opened with a bitter-sweet sourness like that of a dried tangerine peel, paired with a rather sharp white floral on a heavy, sweetened base and strong musk. I had expected to feel some kind of breezy coolness, based on some reviews and also suggested by the name and its beautiful design of both the bottle and the hologram box featuring snow crystals.
While the cold aspect might be there, it is a static one, and I was reminded most of powder soap with no air stirring. Instead of the anticipated refreshing, sparkling creaminess, my nose was pricked with sharp icicles, and I waited for a smoother dry down in vain.

Wearing this in the freezing cold to see how it fared in a wider space, one light spritz on my cleavage turned out to be potent enough! The heady tone comprised of bitter citrus, florals and musky heavy amber irritated me so much that I could not concentrate on my tasks: I felt as if I was constantly forced to put my nose into a freshly opened box of facial towelettes.

In the very end, the faint remnant on my pyjama smelt clean and much more pleasant the next morning... I might have enjoyed this more if it was less intense.
A powerful, clean and sweet floral perfume with good affordability and longevity of a whole day, I recommend testing first if you are not accustomed to some headstrong powderiness.

I had attempted a review once but shortened it again. Many people have already given feedback on this fragrance all over the internet, possibly rendering mine superfluous. Since my experience differs from those of the majority and I happened to agree with the scarce non-glowing opinions (a perceived ratio of 2%), I will still write down to throw in some diversity.

This is a spicy, slightly watery, vaguely sweet floral, a very office-safe and light fragrance I imagine best suited for the transitional seasons with some crispness in the air under a mild sun. It is also one of those more skin-dependent fragrances, and on me, as usual, the sour and bitter notes are emphasised and do not harmonise with the woods and vanilla. The main issue I have here is the overall felt 'transparency/thinness' - even though the woods are listed, they do not serve as a sufficient base to balance out the heady notes.
It's really a shame because the first impression was promising and I felt excited until those edges started to bother me after a while, and trying it over a year under different conditions did not change anything.

Despite its affordability, I would recommend testing first, especially if your skin like mine amps up citrus, green or bitter notes. For those that do not have this issue, you might find a versatile fragrance with a decent longevity of half a day, for the amount of three Latte drinks.

Having worn it almost daily for over a month, I decided to write down my impression of this newly reformulated version of Yardley English Rose.

After I had got used to the green, bitter and oddly waxy opening, I was finally able to tell what it reminded me of very strongly with its waxy gelatin and dense, boozy juice: of blackcurrant gummy candies.
While I love the taste of cassis, I did not expect to smell it so clearly and distinctly in a rose scent. The subtly placed berries on the box were easily mistaken for mere accents. And yet, the gummy candies are the real stars in this fragrance. They remain strong throughout and never step aside for the eponymous lead. Perhaps the rose is neither lively nor energetic enough to keep up with the fruit - it has a 'withered' quality, no longer fresh, but already been processed into a potpourri or tea, which to my nose translates as rosehip tea. Since the woody bitterness is emphasised when smelling too closely to the skin, the best way seems to spray generously and enjoy the wafts.

At first, I found this new version pleasant enough as a short-lived berry-rose mist for warmer mornings. After a while, however, I started to perceive the rose note as artificial as the one used to flavour food. I have the same problem with some other fragrances that use this type of 'rose', for example in Oscar de la Renta's "Rose Gold". While it will certainly suit someone else's taste, this time, it just did not meet my cup of rosehip tea.

Sometimes, a differing concentration just means what it literally stands for - the same fragrance with a varying perfume oil proportion. In this case, the Eau de Toilette version has nothing in common with the 'original' Eau de Parfum and could have been released as a fragrance on its own. It wouldn't have made sense even as a flanker because the main role of the rose was altered to the extent of being unrecognisable.

Whereas the rose in the original was of a patchouli-sweetened and velvety, realistic kind, the rose of the EDT, while still remaining clean, verges on the cosmetically polished, abstract cool version resembling another fragrance of the same house: Comme Une Evidence. It might not be a complete coincidence that they were both created by the same perfumer.
The green Moment de Bonheur lacks all the weight and the distinct sharpness of CUE, almost appearing like its defanged version.
The anticipated promised apple note is more of an alibi, vanishing after the first few seconds; and contrary to the overall impression with the ad and the colours, I find myself in a cosmetics department than a fresh outdoor garden.

With a soft but perceptible projection for around four hours when worn on the upper body, I could imagine the EDT suited for closed environments and in the heat, as well as for someone wishing to be perfumed discreetly, clean and floral in a modern way without being hit by heavy flowers.

Yuzu always makes me fall in love at first sniff with a perfume. Osmanthus, on the other hand, as much as I appreciate the natural smell, is a tricky note in perfumes for me, like freesia. So, it wasn't perhaps really surprising that my affair with Boucheron Place Vendome EDT remained a short one: Fell in love with the slightly sugar-coated yuzu opening, the floral bouquet très chic and very French, so dreamily romantic and delicate--not only peony and rose, but jasmine and osmanthus altogether seem to have been gently dusted with a rose-coloured powder. A more eloquent person would paint the imagery this perfume evokes in richer words than myself, so I will not attempt further.
For a while, I was floating on the luminous, rosy cloud of sweet powder--and fell down when the musk began to grow larger and larger, covering the light and taking out the air, heavily laden with the powdery sweetness now threatening to cause headaches. And of course, osmanthus had emerged, adding a high-pitched tone to the overall fizziness in the base which I suspect to be Iso E Super, judging from its nose-tickling quality. It is categorised as "a woody citrus floral" on the Boucheron website, and I seem not to be the only one being reminded of Light Blue, also because of the basenote.

It remains a very chic and feminine fragrance, like a pair of intricate silver studs with rose quartz, requiring a certain fashion and occasion to be worn with; whatever the base components are, they lend this perfume a very bright 'fizz' and effervescence despite its warm and earthy powderiness, making this an adequate choice for young ladies who wish to smell mature and elegant and yet, retain a certain youthfulness*.