Jardins de Bagatelle

5 reseñas

Mostrando las más recientes primero.

• vivian07

  January 26, 2015

  

  I had it in the 90s. It’s fascinating, incredibly floral, sweet, yet not so much. Ultra-feminine. Once at the airport, a woman walked past me, and I instantly recognized the scent. I wanted to chase her down and ask how she got it. I think it was never officially sold in Argentina (I had to order it from a friend traveling to Miami), and they’ve already stopped making it. Snif!

• Selene

  April 29, 2017

  

  My relationship with this fragrance is particular: at first, I didn’t like it. It didn’t feel like a Guerlain creation; I found it flat and generic, lacking the depth of charm of previous ones. Its predecessor, Nahema, offered much more. But over the years, I got used to its sweetness; in fact, it’s one of the sweetest and juiciest Guerlain fragrances compared to its earlier creations, which had a drier, powdery edge. What’s interesting is that green sweetness mixed with flashes of aldehydes and violets; in the middle, I notice white flowers united symbolically, contributing the floral accord. In the base, there are soft touches of cedar and citrus.

• Casablanca77

  January 17, 2019

  

  Jardins de Bagatelle is a light, soft happiness that makes me feel joyful the moment I try it. Few perfumes, despite their apparent simplicity, give me this kind of joy. Its flowers, combined with grace, seem to belong to another era but fit perfectly today. I don’t see it as something simple or understated; from the start, I sense complexity because of how many flowers are in it. You can detect the neroli and jasmine, with that summer sweetness ripened by the sun and a touch of bitterness, yet always soft. The violet is gorgeous—not icy, just a little so thanks to those aldehydes. There are many flowers, but without that massive punch; they’re light because the perfume aims to be airy and youthful, in the style of the last century. Smelling it is like being in a sunny spring park, barefoot, in a billowing white dress, walking on the grass feeling nature and the breeze, with freshly washed hair and cooling off in a fountain. If I had known about it earlier, when I struggled to get out of my floral phase, it would have been my favorite. I don’t understand why modern florals don’t have this natural, sincere execution of a real garden. Its woody finish with vetiver lingers on the skin without leaving that idyllic garden vibe, and the trail is just right, at least for the eau de toilette. It’s a gorgeous fragrance I loved from the first minute, tailor-made for what I used to like but had to forget because they stopped making it. What a pity I didn’t know it; now it’s an obscure discontinued scent, and you can find others until you’re sick of seeing them in ads.

• Fontaine Depine

  June 16, 2024

  

  Oh je voudrais tant mourir en ce jardin

• Tuberose

  June 6, 2025

  

  I have an unopened bottle from the 2000s, and this is a trip down memory lane. The moment I spray it, I’m instantly transported back to my childhood and my grandmother’s hair salon appointments. It wasn’t that people wore it, but my nose detects those aldehydes that smelled like hairspray and nail polish from back then. What remains is a lovely, feminine, and long-lasting scent, but I only spray it into the air out of nostalgia.