Habanita

8 reseñas

Mostrando las más recientes primero.

• Selene

  August 27, 2014

  

  Controversial, elegant, sensual, exotic, rebellious, untamable. Habanita is definitively the representative perfume of the 1920s, the aroma the ‘Flapper Girls’ should have worn. An attitude full of life and hedonistic, reforming the old and creating a new vision on fashion and makeup. The girls of the 1920s knew how to have fun and were pioneers in countless things, leaving an important legacy. In its Art Deco-style bottle, Habanita already tells us that its aroma encloses all that. It’s worth noting that this decade was heavily influenced by Egyptian culture, especially by archaeological findings, which served as inspiration for several houses. It was born as an essence to perfume cigarettes, and 3 years later, girls were already wearing it on their skin. When we talk about Habanita, we talk about Tobacco and Leather. These two notes dominate the perfume and are so well integrated they seem like one; both tobacco and leather are rather soft and talcum-powdered. Behind these two notes lies amber and vanilla, which makes the fragrance intoxicating and sweet. The sensation is like smelling a smoky aroma, with great flashes of tobacco and leather embedded in amber and vanilla. Many consider Shalimar to be the first oriental fragrance, but they forget that Habanita was created years before. In fact, while they are different, Habanita and Shalimar share certain DNA: both use leather and vanilla as a vital part of their composition. This fragrance must be used in very small doses; its fixing power is incredible, and it’s a fragrance with a lot of body; a little bit gives the perfect result. It’s worth getting to know Habanita.

• Espartaco

  March 17, 2019

  

  I would never wear Habanita; it’s a perfume handled in a Siena range of smoky, hot notes, proudly displaying a toasted sweetness alien to my tastes, which prefer cooler and drier scents. Habanita is like that unicorn everyone has heard of but few have tasted. It’s not because it’s hard to distribute or sells at Michael Jackson’s glove price; on the contrary, it’s easy to find online at a decent price. But it has had very poor retail distribution; at least in Spain, I’ve never seen it on a shelf. That hurts a perfume that, by itself, already has a hard time seducing new buyers with its magic, being an eminently vintage aroma. Poor distribution, a vintage scent, and a name, Molinard or Habanita, unknown to the general public. All signs point to any woman looking for perfume not deigning to look at that insinuating black bottle with Art Deco shapes. I don’t value the old for being old; I like what’s good, regardless of where it comes from, how much it costs, or how people value it. This Molinard is a very old perfume, but with a superb composition. I dare to say it’s a must-mention when talking about perfumery history. To say Habanita is good is an understatement: it’s a work of art. If UNESCO ever includes perfumes in its list of intangible heritage, it should be included by right. Because the juice inside is a frozen instant with the capacity to make you return to the past and relive scenes of streets packed with cars, horns honking, bars with a cloud of cigarette smoke and sweat, lots of sweat. But a perfume doesn’t stand because it takes you back to the year it was created; it must be well-made. Habanita not only has no flaws, but as a juice, it’s a grand thing, an ambrosia of oriental notes, a feast of great brushstrokes, an enjoyable, libidinous, and insolent perfume. What does Habanita smell like? Many things. The marasmus of notes, the avalanche of nuances your nose perceives is madness. It’s not that it has many notes, but that each one is embedded with speed, with partying, with noise. None wants to join the other; all want to be the prettiest, the one to take the handsome guy to the party. Because that is Habanita: a festive perfume, a party, a mess that isn’t planned, it arises and just happens. Like a flamboyant and proud peacock, an extravagance. Habanita is an allegory of unrestraint. I won’t make a long summary of its phases. Just say it smells like its era, of heliotropes and talcum-powdered vanillas but with sparks of fruits and resins; the dry-down recalls the dusty sweetness of old books or leather cigarette cases stiffer than mojama. But the charm is that it also smells like youth, unrestraint, and scandal, of frenzied orgasms and dance floors muddied in sweat. It’s mind-blowing that a perfume with so many years makes you think of sex before elegant women or moments of melancholy. This isn’t refined nor well-mannered; Habanita is a voodoo orgy. My review is based on an old EDT bottle.

• charlotinable

  April 26, 2019

  

  If I can get my hands on it, I’ll buy it for its exquisite mystical notes. An essence conceived to perfume cigarettes in the beautiful 1920s. It must be elegant and sensual, majestic and glamorous. I should get a bottle or more, especially if it’s at an accessible price.

• Casablanca77

  February 15, 2020

  

  Habanita vintage is quite more stubborn than the current eau de parfum. But it deserves great credit: it has managed to adapt without losing its great purity of character. This vintage, although it seems well-puffed upon first spraying, quickly reveals its character and delivers a scent of pure, beautiful sweetness. Later, the sweetness and that aged leather settle, leaving a fragrance with a very marked stubbornness. Perfect perfume for those who adore sweetness without being sweet; not recommended blindly. Anyone not used to these scents would be better off with the current version, which softens a chocolatey benzoin that’s more bearable in these times. Wearing the vintage requires a stronger nose, but if you like what has no shame or borders, go for it, but watch out because the opening can be a bit altered. It felt to me like smoking a Rossli cigarette; its tobacco knocked me out, but I’m sure we’ll become good friends, leaving aside the opening which is already sealed by the years. EDIT: In many aspects, it resembles the Habanita Eau de Cologne remarkably, except in the opening. With this, we see that Molinard’s new versions continue to be artists who know what to do. Molinard deserves special attention; it’s among the top 3, alongside Galimard and Fragonard.

• jerry drake

  January 14, 2021

  

  The vintage version is literally a marvel, perfectly unisex. It’s incredibly round with an attractive heart; it’s flexible and affectionate, yet stubborn. And of course, this ‘Habanita’ is extremely sensual, seductive, and surprisingly comfortable as it evolves. It’s like being trapped in a café in Paris on a cold day, having breakfast and watching heavy rain pour down on the other side of the window. In my perception, there are slightly smoky, fruity, and floral notes resting on a base of leather and creamy, vanilla-amber, making Habanita a comforting perfume of sweetness and warmth. This exotic, persistent bouquet, clearly woven with rose and jasmine, has an appeal that leaves you indifferent. An eau de toilette with great character that exudes class and elegance. Powerful, cynical, yet at the same time deep and relaxing. Enveloping and erotic. This is Habanita: a goddess and a curse at once, in which you whisper lustful words into her ears. An incredibly tempting new discovery in my fragrance journey.

• svazquez7

  May 17, 2023

  

  Habanita EDT is a peculiar fragrance. It’s a bomb of talc and fruity resins. The truth is, it gives me a strange note of ‘raisins’ in the opening; it’s very strong. While it has a very vintage aura, it’s a sophisticated composition. I see it as more feminine than unisex, but honestly, it suits a man in a suit well. I imagine it at a dinner with cachet; if people notice and say you’re wearing ‘Habanita,’ it has a tremendous charm that few perfumes have today.

• svazquez7

  June 5, 2023

  

  Every time I smell the vials of this gorgeous fragrance, I get more obsessed. A refined, luxurious treasure of the kind no longer made; I suggest you go for the gold-capped or square bottle version. It’s driven me so crazy that it even seems better than Shalimar to me.

• Sherazade

  December 17, 2024

  

  I first encountered this through a singing teacher in the 90s; she wore it to death. A classy, super-refined woman. One day, I’ll add it to my collection.