Constantinople

4 reseñas

Mostrando las más recientes primero.

• Nyss

  November 17, 2022

  

  A unisex fragrance that smells like a brute man. To me, 100%, I don’t see any woman wearing this. At first, it’s typical and dense—a classic men’s perfume. After a few minutes, different notes emerge and it becomes much fresher. You can really smell the vanilla and pepper, and with a bit more time, florality kicks in. I’m not a pro at describing perfumes, but the price seems exaggerated for the scent it has. I don’t see it as that special. It does change over time, and I value that, but… no thanks.

• Nyss

  November 22, 2022

  

  They said it was unisex, but it smells like a man at full blast. At first, it’s dense and typical; nothing like a woman wearing it. After a few minutes, it releases fresh notes; you can detect the vanilla and pepper, then the florals come in. I’m not an expert, but the price seems way too high for what it smells like. It does change with time, and I appreciate that, but no thanks, it’s not that special.

• Angelmaius

  November 9, 2023

  

  At first, a spicy kick of heat that screams ‘Arabian’; if you’re used to orientals, it won’t surprise you—it smells like Lataffa clones for under €30. But then the magic happens: sweetness takes over with caramelized vanilla and a spice-laden rum that masculinizes it, like those Central European holiday punch bowls. It’s not cloying; it has a gourmet touch. Unlike other orientals in my collection, the Penhaligon one doesn’t suffocate; it feels elegant, a caress rather than a slap, with no harsh edges. It lasts through a workday without needing a reapplication and leaves a trail until morning coffee. Maybe it won’t shock the experts, but its quality and evolution are extraordinary. The official notes don’t match my experience; every skin and nose interprets it differently.

• Angelmaius

  November 15, 2023

  

  Upon spraying, a burst of spicy heat hits and I think: ‘this is Arabian’. If you’re used to orientals, it won’t surprise you; it smells like many Lataffa clones for under €30. That initial disappointment changes with the sweetening: caramelized vanilla with spice-laden rum, very masculine, like those Central European holiday punch bowls. It’s not cloying; it has something gourmet. Unlike other orientals I own, the Penhaligon one doesn’t overwhelm; it’s elegant, a caress and not a slap. It lasts a full workday without needing a reapplication and leaves a trail until mid-morning coffee. Maybe it won’t shock the connoisseurs, but its quality and evolution are extraordinary. The notes don’t match my experience; everyone smells it differently depending on their skin.