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Arpège
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Descripción
Arpège by Lanvin is an aldehydic floral fragrance for women. Launched in 1927, this composition was created by Paul Vacher and André Fraysse. The top notes reveal aldehydes, valley lily, peach, honeysuckle, neroli, and bergamot; the heart unfolds jasmine, ylang-ylang, valley lily, iris, coriander, rose, lily of the valley, geranium, and camellia; while the base notes settle on sandalwood, amber, vetiver, musk, benzoin, vanilla, and patchouli. This perfume is the winner of the 2005 FiFi Award Hall of Fame.
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- Positivo 78%
- Negativo 18%
- Neutral 4.1%
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A MELODY. Arpege or arpeggio in music vocabulary means notes played on an instrument like a piano in succession, either ascending or descending. And so is this classic 1920s fragrance, made for the birthday of the French designer Jeanne Lanvin’s daughter, who played the piano. It’s a romantic melody fragrance like Chopin’s piano music. This concert starts with aldehydes very similar to those of Chanel No. 5. But they are softer and warmer. There are plenty of notes: honeysuckle, peach, neroli, lily of the valley, bergamot; camellia, coriander, iris, lily of the valley, jasmine, ylang-ylang, pink lily of the valley, and geranium; amber, sandalwood, patchouli, musk, vanilla, benzoin, and vetiver. Although it seems quite complicated, it’s a sweet and simple fragrance. It’s a well-dressed young girl who is a bit late to a classical music concert. She sits down next to her father, and everyone’s eyes are fixed on her. She’s very pretty, slender, and elegant. It could have been a perfume worn by Hollywood actress Audrey Hepburn. She starts listening to the music, and it moves her deeply. On my nose, the rose and peach notes are the strongest and stand out the most. It’s sweet, very sweet. I can also smell the white flowers it contains: lily of the valley, camellia, and jasmine. Sometimes it has a very sour, bitter taste; I don’t know if it’s the bergamot and neroli. There’s something green and intense, maybe the patchouli. The original 1928 formula no longer exists. The black bottle with the gold cap is a new formula where they’ve added green notes, patchouli, vetiver, and musk. The original was much softer and sweeter, dominated by aldehydes, rose, peach, and white flowers. Anyway, here is a tribute to the original, and it appears towards the end. A divine fragrance.
I came to this iconic fragrance through suggestive reviews, which I tested directly on my skin, and the perfumed honeysuckle took all the awards, so much so that the saleswoman was impressed by how it expressed itself with such elegance. Finally, it reached my perfume sanctuary, and to my surprise, its sillage isn’t always the same on me; powdery honeysuckle for hours with an unpleasant herbal finish at the end, preferable to use during autumn-winter. Fortunately, aside from these issues, this undeniable classic by Lanvin integrates into my collection, evoking a fascinating era.
The 1920s gave birth to fragrances that made a huge difference compared to previous decades, altering the future of the following years forever. Arpege is undoubtedly one of these. History tells us it was extremely popular in the 60s, almost 40 years after its launch. Even since its market release, it never lost popularity, gracing the faces of the most refined and elegant women for decades. Regarding its composition, the vintage version is a floral bomb with aldehydes, very narcotic and intense. The aldehyde chords are orchestrated and appear with the same intensity as in vintage Chanel No. 5; that’s the first point where the two are compared so often. Both are loud florals with jasmine notes, but the difference lies in the fact that while Chanel is a jasmine with heavy ylang-ylang and neroli presence, Arpege is a more lilac-like jasmine with honeysuckle, lily of the valley, and fine geraniums. Chanel has subtle citrus tints, while Arpege leans more toward peach. The second point of comparison is that both fragrances feature a very prominent musk note in their base with an animalistic tint, accompanied by soft but noticeable vetiver and sandalwood. The only difference is that Arpege becomes spicy due to the contribution of coriander. They seem very similar, but when we smell both, Arpege makes Chanel No. 5 look like a dreamy, romantic, innocent, fragile, and cheerful woman. Arpege is undoubtedly the opposite, showing a more mysterious, sexy, dark, and complicated side, more mature, yet without losing the warmth also present in No. 5, just demonstrated differently. Both are extremely fine fragrances, where Arpege emphasizes its base notes more, while Chanel No. 5 shines in its florals. Regarding the current version of Arpege: At first, it’s 60% the same as the previous one. The floral bouquet is almost identical, but the base notes are less prominent in the new Arpege, with a very subtle presence of powdery vanilla in the background that makes it distinct. However, as the new fragrance matures on the skin over the hours, it’s at that moment it resembles the old one almost 90%, showing that ultimately, the core heart of both is practically identical.
I received a sample of this fragrance, and in one word… STUNNING! At first, it’s sparkling, like a soft melody… an arpeggio repeating its notes, reminding us of Chanel No. 5. The comparison is inevitable due to the aldehydes, but in Arpege, they’re much gentler. I’d describe it as a fizz of champagne and delicate talcum powder, giving way to a floral scent where, at least for me, the ylang-ylang/iris/jasmine combo was most noticeable. A hint of peach with powdery sandalwood and vanilla towards the end makes it very elegant, adding a halo of sweetness as it settles close to the skin but remains persistent. It’s one of those scents that doesn’t fade easily… It’s part of old-school perfumery, the persistence that gives each perfume its identity. You might share similarities with No. 5, but deep down, they’re very different… it has a much softer, more powdery-vanilla, warmer, and drier finish. In this phase, I find it similar to Chanel’s 31 Rue Cambon, which I owned a while ago. It’s worth at least trying to smell a piece of perfumery history… the epitome of sophistication and class. Greetings from Chile, friends!
Bought the 100ml version. It’s definitely authentic, but unfortunately, no matter how hard I try to appreciate it, it smells like vinegar-y Chanel No. 5 to me. I find it baffling that with all that hype about its beautiful history and the endless list of ingredients, it ends up smelling so much like the legendary Chanel scent. I truly don’t get it. I’ll try wearing it in different settings (cold, heat, humidity, etc.) to get a better understanding and hope to update my review later.
Arpege is elegance full of nuances; I’ve loved this perfume for a long time. It makes me feel sophisticated every time I wear it, that aldehydic, woody, spiced scent with floral touches that invades my senses. This is a top-tier perfume very similar to Chanel No. 5. Arpege is a perfume here to stay in my collection. Rating 10/10.
I didn’t get it this time; it’s the type of perfume that feels like it belongs to another era where I don’t see myself. The price didn’t make me too sad about it, but I’ll keep trying. ladamenoir is right—it’s not for everyone, at least not for me.
Arpege is a classy perfume. Complex, harmonious, and very feminine. When I apply it to my wrist, it highlights a floral bouquet on my skin, settling into a woody aura with exotic hints at the end of the dry-down. They say it was the fragrance of the wonderful Greta Garbo until the end of her days. The perfume for a lady. A lady with classic airs, romantic and tender, yet fundamentally contemporary and open to this world of change. Wonderful Arpege.
A true beauty. To put it plainly: a sparkier Chanel No. 5. No. 5 is a soapy opening that eventually turns into a slightly gaudy, nocturnal blend of iris powder and ylang-ylang. Arpege is practically the same but takes a happier path with sunflower notes and rebellious nuances. On my nose, the difference lies in the jasmine, which is much more evident here—a fruity jasmine with neroli edges that, in its latest reformulations, can feel a bit cheap at the finish. Given the price Arpege sells for, that’s natural. It doesn’t smell dated at all; it’s an aldehydic floral full of joy, happiness, and light. It’s a shame that Lanvin hasn’t been able to position its perfumes where they deserve to be in recent years, especially considering that under Alber Elbaz the house returned to the top, only to be relegated to indifference after his departure. If there’s one Parisian house with a history of killing it, it’s this one.
Arpege is an absolute masterpiece; I’m surprised some say it smells old—that’s usually people who just love candy scents. It’s luminous, deep, sophisticated, pure class in a bottle. It has a slightly erotic dry-down, simply wonderful. It lasts about ten hours on my skin with a medium-to-high sillage. Greta Garbo, Marilyn Monroe, and Rita Hayworth adored it… long life to Arpege, which achieved the perfection that Chanel No. 5 never quite managed, even though Chanel No. 5 is also a great perfume.
I bought it almost 15 years ago; a friend sold it to me new at a laughable price because she didn’t like it. I took the opportunity, and it went crazy with happiness for my mother; it was one of her beloved youth perfumes. It’s very similar to Chanel No. 5, quite so, but as it settles, it acquires another expression: it’s powder, spices, flowers, and an undeniable brazen elegance. It’s a pity it’s no longer available in stores in my city. I would make this for myself, ideal for fresh, cold climates and rainy nights. It’s a work of art of the finest class, conceived in the heart of good taste. It’s heartbreaking that today there are no longer perfumes with this perfect and wonderful craftsmanship.
A friend gave it to me because she didn’t like it; at first I thought wow, too particular, then I really liked it. It’s very sophisticated and feminine, a classic. I don’t find it similar to Chanel No. 5; it reminds me more of the First, but it’s not the same either. It has a lot of character; it’s not for everyone.
Maybe I aimed too high when starting in perfumery. I bought Arpège blind based on the wonderful reviews. It arrived, I tested it, and yes, it’s hard to interpret. It’s unique, rare (like a jewel that’s hard to find); I’m still getting to know it. I feel I’m missing a stage to discover it, maybe my nose needs to mature. Without contradicting that it’s a marvel, I intuit it is, I just need to fully assimilate it. It’s a great piece in my collection; I respect it and give it its space.
It’s exquisite. Extreme refinement, a jewel exuding opulence and richness. Although it has similarities with Chanel No. 5, here it’s more glamorous. It’s not for today’s teens, but for a woman who has long left the nest. It has an incredible story: Jeanne-Marie Lanvin sent someone to create a unique perfume for her daughter that would last generations, a birthday gift. The bottle image is when she delivers the gift. This was before Chanel No. 5 came out.
Being the classic of classics, I thought maybe the green would be nice for a mother-to-daughter gift. It’s complex, perhaps for someone mature (35-40 years old); it evokes all the retro 70s and 80s vibes where glamour was about mixing unmistakable scents. This is an unmistakable scent with good longevity (hard to get off). I suggest buying a decant because it’s not for current consumption.
I bought it blind based on the reviews and I wasn’t wrong: it’s exquisite. Very similar to Chanel No. 5 but not identical; I liked this one more. It doesn’t last longer on my skin, but I feel it’s less ‘old-fashioned’. I’m in love!
I think I’ve fallen in love. And it’s forever.
SIMPLY BEAUTIFUL! I bought it blind, expecting an opulent Chanel No. 5 for formal occasions, but on me it became something elegant, cheerful, sweet, and sparkling. It’s very talc-like; the jasmine gives it that ‘clean’ scent. It’s not boring at all; it’s my everyday fragrance because it gives me an incredible mood boost. Really so cheerful!
It has more tweaks than Carmen Lomana’s face, but it’s gorgeous. The olfactory face wash is very well executed. It no longer smells like what my mother used 35 years ago (more aldehydic and boring, nothing for a twenty-something); this reformulation works. It reminds me of Dorian Gray trying desperately to maintain youth at all costs, paying a price for a perfection that hides vices. The first hours are a dream of floral sweetness and benzoin. The dry down is a floral show with peach, iris, and attenuated aldehydes; the iris, which I hate, comes out fresh and bright. It reminds me of those square Puig soaps from the 70s with soapy flowers. The blend of honeysuckle, ylang-ylang, jasmine, iris, peach, and vanilla creates a sweet illusion that turns into disillusionment after 3 hours: Dorian withers, the iris powders, the peach wrinkles, and Arpège enters a politically correct decline. It only resembles the Chanel No. 5 Eau de Parfum (a disappointment compared to my mother’s vintage). It lasts until the seventh hour, without an overwhelming sillage. Goodbye, Dorian, beauty doesn’t last forever. If Lanvin had gotten involved in this, they could have made the most lasting change. It’s singularly beautiful, but with that performance, I would have thought twice.
An olfactory bridge between Chanel No. 5 and Van Cleef’s First. That historical soap aldehydic cleanliness, born from the tail of No. 5, but here calmer and softer, with less sparkle. Arpège is uniform and constant like the First. The perfect alternative to a pure aldehyde: light, softness, and calm in a subtle, discreet version that remains alive.
I turned two weeks old, and my mom asked what to get me. I saw this perfume, read the reviews, and asked her to buy it based on them… and she nailed it! It smells delicious. It’s vintage yet elegant, smells clean, with a very subtle sweetness followed by white flowers. I can’t describe the notes well, but I loved it.
This composition is magic on my skin, an addiction for my nose. It’s wonderful, multifloral, and multifaceted. The opening is citrusy with well-balanced flowers; I detect lots of geranium and rose. As it dries, the resins take center stage: amber, woods like sandalwood and vetiver, and benzoin. It settles into herbal, resinous, amber roses. It’s very similar to Chanel 5 EDP but with fewer aldehydes and no civet. I only wear it in winter because it hugs me and creates an aura that stays with me for hours.
It’s a jewel, a classic that doesn’t feel dated. Reminds me of Chanel No. 5 but is sweeter and dustier, with less prominent aldehydes. On my skin, it has better projection and performance. It’s beautiful.
I don’t know why I detect a honey note in this gorgeous perfume… am I the only crazy person who smells it, or is there someone else experiencing the same thing?
Hedy Lamarr once said anyone can have glamour, but she was so much more than a pretty face; she invented spread-spectrum technology to save American ships. This Arpège reminded me of that complex woman: elegant, with well-worked aldehydes over a luminous floral that isn’t overly spring-like. The soapy base gives it an attractive freshness without being clinical. It’s perfect for those who value more than just physical appearance. Projection and longevity are decent; I don’t care if it feels youthful—I simply love it. Highly recommended.
A timeless classic with great quality. Delicious, clean, and creamy scent. On my skin, it smells like Dove bar soap.
Arpège EDP, recent batch. A masterpiece on the first spray: opens with peach and light aldehydes. As it dries, you get soapy, creamy notes of jasmine and lots of rose. The sandalwood is addictive, slightly animalic but nothing as intrusive as Cabotine. The camellia is unique in my collection; over time, it makes sense and adds a distinguished creaminess that pairs beautifully with the jasmine and rose. It lasts long on clothes; on skin, after three months of maceration, it hits 9-10 hours. As a No. 5 lover, I understand the comparison, but they aren’t similar: Arpège is complex yet less chaotic than No. 5’s aldehydic opening. Perfect for sunny autumns or cool nights. It becomes a great signature scent with daily wear—highly addictive.
Arpège Extract, old batch. It’s a shame it doesn’t have its own section; it’s an incredible olfactory experience. The spices really pop, and it features one of the best sandalwoods I’ve ever tried. They complement the jasmine and rose soapiness that develops, giving a soft, talcum feel. It’s sweeter than the current EDP, like honey. An intimate perfume lasting over 15 hours. No aldehydes, just a warm floral bomb; I recommend layering it with the EDP—it’s a whole other world. Compared to an old batch of No. 5, there are similarities, but Arpège is more complex and warm, whereas No. 5 feels more complicated and effervescent.
Fun fact: this is Eva Perón’s favorite perfume. Cheers!
I agree that Arpege by Lanvin and Chanel No. 5 belong to the same family, just like L’Interdit, but they diverge quickly after the initial burst. I’m talking about the current versions: Arpege is a woody lily, soapy with yellow notes; No. 5, which I’ve worn since childhood (my grandmother and mother used it), is a deep, talcum-powdered rose. Arpege feels fresher and more youthful, while No. 5 is mature and seductive. Two historical jewels worth owning if you’re not scared of vintage vibes.
My mother, the most beautiful woman to me, bought this fragrance several years ago. She used it very rarely and then didn’t like it because she thought it was too strong (ironically, she smells like Paloma Picasso), so she handed it to me along with the bottle, which is as stately as it gets. Yes, it’s stately, but an atemporal one. I’m not a young girl anymore; 35 is whispering in my ear, and I love being a mature woman to carry something so beautiful with confidence. It has a strong presence; you won’t go unnoticed when you wear it because it’s quite heavy. Thanks to my mom for gifting me such a precious bouquet of white flowers in a bottle that reminds me of her.
2019 batch. A gift for my mom who loves Chanel No. 5, but I usually buy Fraise or dupe versions since my budget doesn’t stretch to a real Chanel, and I sometimes doubt the brand’s own reformulations. She absolutely loved it; it’s a stately, elegant scent and a great substitute for Chanel No. 5. It’s a dupe, BUT Arpege follows a different path—it’s more soapy but very economical. In short: A soapy Chanel No. 5, you can’t go wrong.
Fun fact: Eva Perón used Scandal by Lanvin.
A vintage scent that smells expensive, opulent, elegant, and warm. It arrived two days ago, I sprayed it twice on my neck 10 hours ago, and I still smell it constantly. Very similar to Chanel No. 5, but much more affordable with spectacular performance. My husband doesn’t like vintage scents, but he complimented how good I smelled with this one.
Pure Sandalwood, nothing like the original Arpege or the 90s reformulation. Back then, reformulations aimed to enhance the fragrance; nowadays, prices go up while quality and longevity drop. Minimal costs, massive profits, yet it’s amazing to spend 300 euros on a perfume that vanishes in 10 minutes. This isn’t the case here, although I bought the black bottle a year ago—the pre-90s reformulation extract, nearly from 2000, was far from Arpege. My take? If you want something like this, pull it off the market and don’t sell it at clearance prices. That’s the issue.
I love it. It’s like Chanel No. 5 but without that aldehydic fizz. As a spray, they’re similar, but Arpege becomes soapy and white-floral, a more sophisticated bouquet. I’d wear it for everything, but especially in summer evenings with that midnight freshness. Excessive heat brings out the woods and makes it feel rough. Haven’t tried it in winter yet, but I’m eager to.
I don’t know what the original smelled like; I suppose it would make more than one person sigh. The current version, bought in 2025, declares its classic character with that charming soapy floral vibe. It evokes the atmosphere of moms from the 70s and 80s who’d welcome you home late on a Friday with a warm hug and a sandwich, so vibrant, clean, and perfumed, in their cardigans and knee-length skirts. Ready to take you and your dad out to cheer you up after a exhausting week. Very feminine, elegant, and timeless. For me, it still holds charm and personality, lasting on clothes until the next day. Even if it’s not quite the same as before, how beautiful it is! A perfume to remember just as much as the people who wear it with pride.
I loved it; it transports me to another era without being there. It smells like those body creams from 100 years ago—I have no proof, but I have no doubts either. The opening doesn’t appeal to me; it smells like burnt plastic, though on my skin it turns creamy and floral. It’s a shame it only lasts three hours.
I don’t know what the original smelled like; I suppose it would make more than one person sigh. The current version, bought in 2025, declares its classic character with that charming soapy floral vibe. It evokes the atmosphere of moms from the 70s and 80s who’d welcome you home late on a Friday with a warm hug and a sandwich, so vibrant, clean, and perfumed, in their cardigans and knee-length skirts. Ready to take you and your dad out to cheer you up after an exhausting week. Very feminine, elegant, and timeless. For me, it still holds charm and a welcoming personality, lasting on clothes until the next day. Even if it’s not quite the same as before, how beautiful it is! A perfume to remember just as much as the people who wear it with pride.
Arpege is a gem, like Chanel No. 5 but more potent and resinous. If you like that vibe, go for it—I have respect for it and actually prefer the discounted version of Chanel.