Men
Joop! Le Bain
Acordes principales
Descripción
Joop! Le Bain is an oriental floral fragrance for women, created by Symrise and launched in 1989. Its olfactory pyramid unfolds with top notes of aldehydes, orange blossom, bergamot, and lemon; a heart composed of sandalwood, jasmine, cedar, rose, and lily of the valley; and a base that evokes tonka bean, vanilla, amber, musk, and patchouli.
Resumen rápido
Cuándo llevarla (votos)
Notas clave
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Salida
aldehydes
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Corazón
sandalwood
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Base
tonka bean
Comunidad
2,705 votos
- Positivo 80%
- Negativo 13%
- Neutral 6.5%
Pirámide olfativa
Estructura completa de la fragancia: de la salida al fondo.
Comunidad
Qué dicen los usuarios sobre propiedad, preferencia y mejor momento de uso.
Propiedad
¿La tienen, la tuvieron o la quieren?
Preferencia
Cómo valora la comunidad esta fragancia.
Uso recomendado
Estación y momento del día con más votos.
Dónde comprar
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Amazon
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Ideal si priorizas velocidad y disponibilidad.
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eBay
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Útil para comparar alternativas antes de decidir.
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Características
Resumen de votos sobre longevidad, estela, género y percepción de precio.
Longevidad
Escasa
Débil
Moderada
Duradera
Muy duradera
Estela
Suave
Moderada
Pesada
Enorme
Género
Femenino
Unisex femenino
Unisex
Unisex masculino
Masculino
Precio
Extremadamente costoso
Ligeramente costoso
Precio moderado
Buen precio
Excelente precio
Reseñas
Experiencias reales de la comunidad sobre uso diario, rendimiento y estela.
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27 reseñas
Mostrando las más recientes primero.
Category:
It’s a delight, smells clean. Although it’s not very long-lasting, I highly recommend it for day and night, you just have to reapply often.
Delicious and unforgettable. Conveys cleanliness and tidiness.
The story of JOOP! is a ‘déjà vu’ of what happened to other brands: it didn’t succumb with its creator, changed hands until it fell into a multinational that keeps some of the original essence. Yves Saint Laurent is the paradigm of destroying a prestigious brand and a symbol of the 70s and 80s. Blame L’Oreal, as Rita Hayworth sang. Others, like Dior, Guerlain, or Cacharel, maintain prestige, though nothing comparable to their beginnings. JOOP! is German, from Hamburg, 1986, by Wolfgang Joop. Between 1998 and 2001, the founder sold the company, and now it’s owned by Coty. Its first perfume was JOOP! Femme, an indolic aldehydic ‘don’t mess with me’. Thanks to my friend Rebecavpf, I know this JOOP! Le Bain, an oriental unisex launched in 1989. Although it advertised aldehydes, I don’t notice them; the opening is sharp, not due to aldehydes but due to citrus bolstered by white musk and hedione, with penetrating sweet jasmine and no indolic character (unlike JOOP! Femme). This initial accord is risky, straddling the line between natural and artificial, on that tightrope walk of falling into insecticide or landing friendly. JOOP! Le Bain doesn’t evolve; that initial accord stays, sweetened by amber and synthetic-vanilla, with high performance, typical of JOOP!. The brand doesn’t stand out for discretion; its fragrances play in the laboratory league, lacquers, and direct artifices. They are love-hate. For me, the paradigm is JOOP! Homme: I hate it as much as I love it; it’s overwhelming but I adore it, an addiction I always return to. JOOP! Homme expresses my complexity and self-sincerity. I’ll keep using it even though I cordially detest it. Something similar happens with JOOP! Le Bain: it’s so simple, flashy, beach shack-like, that you can love it or hate it, but it’s hard to be indifferent to it.
Le Bain combines cleanliness, tidiness, and elegance. I use it after bathing to sleep, and the next day I detect the amber, which lasts over any perfume I wear during the day. It doesn’t bother me; it adds a halo of sophistication.
It’s a very tender fragrance. To me, it smells like baby powder.
The opening is very boozy and balsamic. Then it becomes vanilla and amber with that balsamic sediment, almost medicinal. After three hours, it’s skin-scent: soft vanilla, woody, barely sweet. I think it’s a special eau de parfum, very different, but on me it doesn’t perform well and I understand it’s not easy. Although not common in stores, it comes up very cheap online.
Its opening is very liquorish. Then it smells like those typical vanilla body gels. When it dries, it acquires a very light smell of cinnamon rolls and rose, with a powdery touch. It’s somewhat sweet, not gourmand, but I don’t consider it an easy-to-wear perfume.
The opening is very boozy. Then it smells like typical vanilla bath gels. As it dries, there’s a light touch of gingerbread and pink, powdery. It’s sweet without being gourmand, but also not easy.
I just discovered it and it went straight to my favorites. A gem: sweet without being gourmand, vanilla-infused and fresh, gives a sense of cleanliness without being soapy, smells elegant. Excellent price. Longevity and sillage that many would desire. Completely in love.
I just tried it and it’s already one of my favorites. It’s a jewel: sweet without being gourmand, vanilla and fresh at the same time. It gives a sense of cleanliness without smelling like soap, it smells like pure elegance. The price is excellent, and the longevity and sillage are things many designer perfumes would envy. Totally in love.
Joop Le Bain was a monumental beast, brutal and wonderful. It was my first encounter with gourmand; I bought it in October 1991 in Düsseldorf for my mother. The salesperson recommended ‘an authentically German perfume’ and handed me Joop Le Bain to smell. What Bain? It was a mix of woods, resins, and vanilla at kiloton levels. A dense, genuine, ominous vanilla. Today’s gourmand vanillas are sugar puppies compared to that vanilla. Fenrir would be traumatized by that hairy beast. My mother, used to classic amber or aldehydic scents, tucked it away in a drawer, but years later we rescued it and wore it by turns. Too good not to use. But it died out like the Tasmanian devils. Coty tried to clone it, but now it’s closer to Dolly the sheep than the fierce wolf. The reformulation doesn’t disgust me; the sheep scratches the ground with arrogance but doesn’t overwhelm. The vintage overwhelmed, invaded, and besieged, thick and almost sticky, like cedar resin with vanilla and amber emulsified. It was felt from the first spray: the wolf pounced and then curled up, but stared you down with blazing eyes for hours. The reformulation is the opposite: it appears candid with orange blossom and citrus, but builds in crescendo and lasts all day. In the vintage, the top and heart notes were pure omission for my nose. I never noticed the aldehydes, and in this version, practically nothing. Now the citrus stays from start to finish, solid with amber and tonka bean that almost remind of benzoin. There’s more floral presence; lily of the valley takes over (I don’t notice jasmine or roses). The distinctive feature: is there vanilla? Yes, interwoven with a synthetic musk, but the sweetness is pleasant, and I appreciate the citrus air longevity. It’s not what it was, but I’m glad to have it. Of current ones that remind me of the vintage: Organza Indecence, État de Grace by Les Signes de Gres, and Adam Levine for Women.
Joop Le Bain was a monumental beast and brutally wonderful. My first encounter with gourmand was with it. I bought it in October 1991 in Düsseldorf for my mother. The salesperson recommended an ‘authentically German’ perfume and handed me Joop Le Bain to smell. ‘Bain’? What bain? It was a mix of woods, resins, and vanilla at kiloton levels. Dense, genuine, dark vanilla. Modern gourmand vanillas are sugarlings compared to this. Fenrir would be traumatized by this hairy beast. My mother, used to classics like Chanel, put it in a drawer, but years later we rescued it. Too good not to use. But it died out like the Tasmanian devils. Coty tried to clone it, but now it’s closer to Dolly the sheep than the fierce wolf. The reformulation doesn’t disgust me; it holds its own. The sheep scratches the ground with arrogance but doesn’t overwhelm. The vintage overwhelmed; it was thick and sticky, like cedar resin emulsified with vanilla and amber. You felt it from the first spray: the wolf lunged but curled up, though it stared at you with fiery eyes for hours. The reformulation is opposite: candid, with neroli and citrus, but it builds and lasts all day. In the vintage, the top and heart notes were pure omission; I didn’t notice aldehydes. Now the citrus stays miraculously solid with amber and tonka bean, almost to benjoin. There’s more floral; lily of the valley takes the lead (not jasmine or roses). The vanilla is there, but interwoven with a synthetic musk, though dignified. It’s sweet, and I appreciate the citrus longevity, but it’s not what it was. Still, I keep it in my collection. Current ones that remind me of the vintage are Organza Indecence, État de Grace by Les Signes de Gres, and Adam Levine for Women.
Tried it several times in different climates, and I still can’t understand how anyone could like it. It literally smells like the plastic on brand-new dolls. It brings back memories of me as a little girl opening boxes and pulling out that fresh plastic. It’s identical. I bought a 50ml bottle and frankly, I have no idea what to do with it. If anyone wants it, even if it’s cheap, it’s almost new and it hurts to just keep it for decoration.
I’ve given it several opportunities in different climates and I don’t understand why someone would like it. To summarize, it smells like the rubber of new dolls. It brings me memories of when, as a child, I opened the box and took out the doll, it’s exact. I bought a 50ml bottle and frankly I don’t know what to do with it. If anyone is interested, even though they sell it cheap, it’s practically new and it hurts me to have it just as decoration.
They gave me this perfume as a gift today. I didn’t know it, but it left me a bit confused. It’s sweet, I can’t identify its notes; what I can say is that it reminds me of its scent. It smells like dolls to me, yes, like dolls. Like Nancy, Barbie, like a doll. I can’t say I love it, nor do I dislike it; I just know it confuses me and I haven’t had anything like it. Certainly, it’s a different perfume; I don’t know if I’ll keep it, sell it, or gift it, because since it confuses me, I’m not clear. What else can I say? I don’t know. That it’s different, feminine, tender, and at the same time mega long-lasting. I’ve only sprayed it twice in 7 hours and it seems like I put it on 10 minutes ago. It’s a wonder in terms of fixation. Not much more to add. Well, yes, it’s a beast.
I don’t know, this perfume smells weird to me, synthetic and plasticky, probably because the aldehydes don’t agree with me, I don’t know for sure. I’ll give it more chances, but for now it doesn’t convince me, what a pity.
I’m going to try not to cry in this review, not in a bad way. Jane Birkin waking up early for a shoot on a fresh, misty morning, with ideal temperature, takes a shower and ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING, from the gel to the conditioner, smells like a freshly showered French girl from the 70s. She is beautiful but doesn’t realize it; she puts on loose jeans and an old t-shirt, messy and disheveled hair, a bit of mascara and blush on lips and cheeks. Empty streets, it seems like only she is there, leaving that unique and eeeeeffortless allure. PREMEDITATED. When you greet her, she gives you two kisses and floods you with that scent; it’s not feminine or masculine, not adult, it has something childish but FIERCE, it lasts and insists. When she moves away, that Le Bain mist stays with you. Who is this creature? It has the grace of femininity, the strength of masculine energy, and the purity of an infant, but it’s eternal like an immortal fairy. After so much mental imagery, I must say I bought it along with Mancera’s Roses Vanille, I threw it in there because I’d known for years it was for me. Here it is with me at 4 PM in Malaga, applied since noon the previous day, and I have no words. My boyfriend can smell it from the kitchen. I’m looking at what else the creator has; this must be Avalon’s alchemy. I won’t tell you to buy it blind; you have to be an ethereal being to wear this, your image must be the fruit of a nature’s whim, something different and beautiful in its own way. Is it unisex? It’s for people who are less than human, regardless of genitals. Times aren’t ready for this VINTAGE that takes you to another era, not because it’s stale or overdone, but because there’s no more cosmetics with that characteristic ‘soap’ scent. Scent 9/10, Longevity 10/10, Sillage 10/10, Value/Price 10/10, Versatility 7/10, Packaging 10/10. I would buy it again: FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE. R.I.P Jane Birkin, eternal role model from my tender childhood, this scent reminded me so much of what she conveyed that I see her wherever Le Bain passes. PD: Don’t buy it blind, check the negative comments; it’s like the most beautiful person in the world moving to a town of 80 inhabitants. Ok? If you don’t mind shining on your own light, GO.
Looking at international reviews calmed me down; others perceived what I did: cherry. Explosive opening, thankfully it settles down. Or maybe you get used to it. It leaves a synthetic vanilla scent with cherry and amber. To ‘scented’ rubber or plastic, as some compare it to Gaultier 2, saving distances. That’s how I perceive it. If overapplied, it becomes invasive and not exactly pleasant; I recommend moderation. It has very good longevity.
I’ll try not to cry in this review, and not in a bad way; Jane Birkin getting up early for a shoot on a slightly fresh, misty morning, but the temperature is ideal, she takes a shower, and ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING, from the body wash to the hair conditioner, smells like a freshly showered French girl from the 70s (I know her creation is later, but this is what I smell), continuous, she’s beautiful but doesn’t even realize it, she puts on slightly loose jeans and a worn-out old t-shirt, her hair tousled, a bit messy, and as a look, a little mascara and blush used on both lips and cheeks, the streets are still empty, it seems like only SHE is there, leaving behind that unique, eeeeeffortless allure, ja! PREMEDITATED. When you greet her, she gives you two kisses and floods you with that scent, which isn’t inherently feminine or masculine, not adult, has something childish, but FIERCE, it lasts and insists, when she leaves, that Le Bain mist stays with you, ‘who is this creature’? It has the grace of femininity, the strength of masculine energy, and the purity of an infant, but it’s eternal like an immortal fairy. After so much mental imagery, I must say I bought it along with a purchase of Roses Vanille by Mancera, I put it there because I’d had it for years, and years, knowing it was for me. Here it is with me at 4 PM in Málaga, Andalusia, applied since midnight the previous day, and I have no words, my boyfriend is smelling it from the kitchen, I’m looking at what other creations his author has, this must be Avalon alchemy, I won’t tell you to buy it blindly, you must be an ethereal being to wear this, your image must be something born of a nature’s whim, something different, beautiful in its own way, is it unisex? it’s for people who are less human, regardless of genitals. Times aren’t ready for this VINTAGE that truly takes you to another era and not because it’s musty or overly floral, but because there’s no more cosmetics with that characteristic ‘soap’ scent. Scent 9/10 Longevity 10/10 Sillage 10/10 Value 10/10 Versatility 7/10 Packaging 10/10 Would I buy it again?: FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE. R.I.P Jane Birkin, eternal role model since my tender childhood, this scent reminded me so much of what she conveyed that I see her wherever Le Bain passes. P.S.: Don’t buy it blindly, check all the negative comments, it’s like the most beautiful person in the world moving to a town of 80 inhabitants, okay? if you don’t mind shining on your own light, VE.
RETURN TO CHILDHOOD 🛁🛁🛁🛁 Upon first trying it, I felt as if there was something of my childhood inside that bottle. It’s a somewhat vintage scent, essentially vanilla, soapy, aldehydic, which can recall solar notes, over a slightly ambered and sweetened base. Maybe it’s not to the current taste, and that’s why it’s hard to find in major perfumeries. Away from contemporary gourmand vanillas, this is a retro vanilla, with that plasticky touch and a hint of artificiality, yet balanced, nothing strident, nothing out of place. Le Bain could be the enveloping hug after a bath with a layer of curl cream, and the scent that remains after talc, Gal vaseline, almond oil, and other 80s creams, while you nibble on the plastic dolls you’ve scattered in the bathtub, with that typical Mandarin Chinese flan aftertaste of the era. For me, it’s a quiet perfume, one I like to enjoy at home or, on some days, simply as a transition perfume (because yes, some fragrance crazy people use more than one perfume a day, depending on the mood, you know…). I’ll get a spare bottle in case it’s discontinued, so I can continue feeling that nostalgic hug, from time to time, of who I was and will never be again. Because sometimes, the past fits in a bottle. 🍀
Back to childhood. Upon trying it, I felt something of my childhood inside. Vintage scent, essentially vanilla, soapy, aldehydic, with solar notes over an amber and sweetened base. Maybe it’s not to current taste and hard to find. Away from gourmand vanillas, it’s a retro vanilla, with a plasticky touch and a pinch of artificiality, but balanced, nothing strident. Le Bain could be the hug after a bath with curls, the scent after talcum, Gal vaseline, almond oil, and 80s creams, while you were biting plastic dolls in the bathtub with a Mandarin Chinese flan aftertaste. For me, it’s a quiet perfume, for being at home or in transition. I’ll get a refill in case it gets discontinued, to keep feeling that nostalgic hug of who I was and never will be again. Sometimes, the past fits in a bottle.
Confused at first, but if you’re afraid of dying, don’t buy this. I opened the bottle an hour and a half ago: at first, a super alcoholic cherry that seemed strange because it’s not in the notes. After a few seconds, the alcohol faded and a plastic doll smell came through, like going back 30 years to Three Kings Day in the Dominican Republic. I didn’t dislike that time travel, but I was left with a ‘yes, but…’. My nose isn’t at its best due to a flu that laid me low for a week, but with just two sprays, I noticed a lot of potency. After an hour and a half, the plastic smell dropped, and I felt that cherry-sweetened sweetness again, now with fresh and clean touches. It reminds me a lot of the base of Givenchy Pi, though it’s very subtle. No lemons or bergamot on my skin, just a shy floral that makes it work from day to night. At first, I thought of a blue morning sky, now of orange sunsets. It’s a strange perfume and I like it for that, it evolves a lot. At two and a half hours, the plastic disappeared completely; a sweet, woody touch remains, with a very blended jasmine. It’s no longer fresh, it’s clean, potent, and nocturnal, ideal for the cold. On my skin, it smells feminine, but I think it would be great on a man. At three and a half hours, what is this? It smells like sweet, woody almonds, totally different from the start. I tested it on my 25-year-old son, and on him, it smells more masculine and synthetic, without that doll note. At eight hours, there’s no sillage left; it’s an intimate scent that smells almost identical to Pi. I’m definitely fascinated, it’s a sensual bomb without being invasive.
Confused, I won’t deny it. Bought it blind because if you’re afraid to die, don’t be born. An hour after applying it, upon spraying, it was a super alcoholic cherry. Strange, it’s not in the notes, and as the alcohol faded, it smelled like plastic dolls. It was like going back 30 years to opening toys on Epiphany. It didn’t disgust me due to the nostalgia, but I’m not sure if I like it. Intriguing, it’s a ‘yes, but’. My nose isn’t great due to a cold, but I feel it well with two sprays. It has power. At 1:30 PM, I felt more power than at the start; the plastic scent dropped and the sweetened cherry sweetness returned with fresh, clean touches. It reminds me very faintly of Givenchy’s Pi, something I can’t quite grasp. I adore perfumes but I’m not an expert. It doesn’t smell like lemon or bergamot on my skin; a shy floral note rises, making it go from daytime to evening. Sounds weird, I thought of early blue sky, now of orange sunsets. I like it for being weird and for the abrupt changes. It evolves a lot; at 2:48 PM the new doll scent was gone, leaving a sweet woody touch, a very low rose note. The plastic was replaced by jasmine mixed with wood. It’s no longer fresh, it’s clean, powerful, and nocturnal, for cold weather with sweet woods. In my cold zone, I should try it in summer, but due to its evolution, I wear it at any time, preferably evening/night. It doesn’t smell vintage on me, it smells different from trends, maybe that’s why it seems old. Anyone who enjoys the scent can wear it. It’s unisex; on me it’s feminine, on a confident man it would surely work well. At 3:30 PM, what is this? Sweet almondized wood? The power is there, it hasn’t dropped. It doesn’t resemble the beginning. Disconcerted. I sprayed it on my son to see how it smelled on him; on me it’s super sweet (not gourmand), on him it’s masculine and more woody, synthetic but masculine. This stage on him lasted less. I definitely like it, it was a surprise. Worn well, it’s a bomb without being invasive. Sensual, I’m fascinated.
Hidden gem. I bought it blind and was sure it was going to be on another level. Thanks to reviews that made me discover it. It’s the perfect ‘fresh out of the box’ doll scent I’ve always been looking for. It has become a must-have. I can’t add more than what’s said: bye. Edit: It’s the best vanilla perfume I’ve smelled (on par with Guerlain) and the one that suits me best. It’s not childish, heavy, synthetic, or monotonous. Perfection. Sweet and fresh due to the aldehydes and a subtle rose note. Intense yet light, pure alchemy.
If you’re looking for a doll and freshly unpacked toy scent, this is it. It looks very clean; I remember the ‘Le Bain’ concept from the 80s-90s, talcum-powdered and vanilla-scented. Some note tobacco at the end, a hint of an opened pack, not smoke or annoying, but covered by the doll scent. Smells like a Cabbage Patch Kid if a teenager hid their tobacco inside. Haven’t tested longevity and sillage yet for fall and winter.
Starts like cherry syrup, then the aldehydes and vanilla kick in. The base is almond vanilla. Very pleasant; it doesn’t smell like a doll or bath products.
The softest and prettiest vanilla I’ve ever tried, completely different from the current ones that give me nausea. It’s super easy to wear, not overwhelming, and very comforting.