Folie Douce

5 reseñas

Mostrando las más recientes primero.

• VainillaDulce

  July 28, 2017

  

  Another one of my miniatures, and this Gres creation I like even more than the classic Cabotine; too bad I never found Folie Douce in a full size. Here, heliotrope and blackcurrant take the lead, creating a succulent, sweet, and powdery combination. Framing them are mimosa, ylang-ylang, vanilla, iris, and woods. It fits perfectly today with its slightly sweet touch and that powdery sensation. I loved wearing it on my skin; sometimes I smell it on the bottle and it seems so coquettish and feminine. Wish someone who owned the full size could share their experience.

• VainillaDulce

  August 2, 2017

  

  Another gem from Gres that has won my heart, even more than the classic Cabotine. What a pity I didn’t catch Folie Douce in a regular format. Here, heliotrope and blackcurrant shine, creating a sweet and velvety blend where mimosa, ylang-ylang, vanilla, iris, and woods hide. It fits perfectly today with that sweet and velvety touch. I loved it on my skin; sometimes I smell it on the bottle and it seems super coquettish and feminine. Wish someone with the original could tell us their experience.

• Tuberosa76

  March 19, 2018

  

  It smells like gummy bears! But I’m more of a Cabotine person.

• Wonder34

  October 14, 2020

  

  It was the first ‘candy-scented’ perfume I tried and I loved it. The aromas that are trendy today then seemed like a precious novelty. I can’t define it in detail, but I remember it as sweet, enveloping, vanilla-like, edible, playful, and nothing vulgar. I have the empty miniature vial, but it evokes cherries in syrup or strawberry jam, nothing to do with the real ingredients, perhaps just my memory of that balanced and fine sweetness, far from being cloying. After trying so many disappointing gourmand perfumes, this one was delicious. I remember it as coquettish and seductive.

• Wonder34

  October 25, 2020

  

  It was the first ‘candy-scented’ perfume I tried and I loved it. At the time, the aromas that now dominate the market seemed like a charming novelty. I can’t define it precisely, but I remember it as sweet, enveloping, vanilla-like, edible, playful, and not vulgar. I have the empty mini bottle, and now it reminds me more of cherries in syrup or strawberry jam—nothing to do with the actual ingredients, but rather the representation of that balanced, fine sweetness, far from being cloying after trying so many disappointing gourmand perfumes. It was delicious, coquettish, and seductive.