Men
L’Air du Temps
Acordes principales
Descripción
L'Air du Temps by Nina Ricci is a floral fragrance for women. Launched in 1948, the nose behind this composition is Francis Fabron. The top notes include carnation, aldehydes, rose, neroli, Brazilian rosewood, peach, and bergamot; the heart notes reveal carnation, cloves, gardenia, jasmine, rose, ylang-ylang, violet, iris root, rosemary, and orchid; and the base notes consist of spices, iris, oakmoss, musk, sandalwood, benzoin, amber, vetiver, and cedar.
Resumen rápido
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
Compara tiendas verificadas para L’Air du Temps y elige según envío, precio o disponibilidad.
Amazon
Envío rápidoEntrega rápida y política de devoluciones conocida.
Ideal si priorizas velocidad y disponibilidad.
Ver en Amazon
eBay
Más opcionesMás opciones de precio, formatos y vendedores.
Útil para comparar alternativas antes de decidir.
Ver en eBay
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.
Para dejar una reseña necesitas iniciar sesión.
40 reseñas
Mostrando las más recientes primero.
Category:
LADT happened to me like those friendships where you clash at first, but then you discover similarities. My first impression was rejection, but by giving it a chance (and the arrival of autumn, which helped a lot to not feel that initial rejection), I realize I reach for it more often than I’d believe. I’ve smelled fragrances qualified as soapy that I don’t find that touch, not even jokingly. With LADT, that qualification is spot on. IT SMELLS LIKE SOAP, but in an exquisite, clean, and tidy way. Quite powdery too. I notice a lot of clove and spices in general, and in the background the carnation, but both are there, hand in hand. I would rule out using it on hot days. When it’s appreciated best is with the cold; it’s one of those scents that accompanies you as if they could hold your hand. It’s not a bold scent, like Chanel No. 5. Rather, in style (not scent), it reminds me of Anaïs Anaïs. That type of perfume that shone in the 80s. I think a young current audience, little educated in florals, might find it dowdy, but I find it a fairly innocent floral. Acceptable longevity (around 6 hours), although the sillage on me is quite scarce, but I like it. Surprisingly, I like it quite a bit.
Nothing in this perfume can be aggressive: it’s pure delicacy. Soft, moderate, yet constant sillage that comforts and embraces. A fleshy carnation, sprinkled with small citrus aldehyde sparkles, is the protagonist of a soapy and clean composition, where small gardenias and jasmines stroll around, slightly spicy from the spices. A powdery soft sandalwood, a bouquet of roses, a powdery iris, and light woods support it all. Few perfumes have conveyed such clear tenderness to me. I see it as beautiful for a young girl, even if she hasn’t become a woman yet; so innocent and tender that it has that almost angelic point. But at the same time, it’s maternal; it’s the scent of a young mother mixed with her baby in a warm embrace. It’s the seal of an elegant, classic-looking lady with a young spirit: she likes to perfume herself for herself and, why not, let it be noticeable, but without falling into vulgarity. Impossible to see lust in this aroma despite the spices. If anything, the sandalwood gives a slight skin note and the gardenia a body cream tone, but in a totally romantic way. “The Air of Time” is a carnation and rose powder moved by the flutter of doves taking flight. It’s a fine and expensive facial soap. LADT is tenderness made into perfume.
Today I found a deal on a little 30 ml bottle. Obviously, people skip the bottle, but for me, it was the contents. It’s a really beautiful perfume; it reminds me a lot of the 80s and 90s. I wore it all day today (I don’t think perfumes “have” sex or age… for me, anyone can wear whatever makes them feel better). Very good composition; I love this type of perfume, especially now that new releases all smell the same and like iso super e… Hopefully, more elaborate, dense, and deep fragrances become fashionable again.
I had a 30 ml bottle reserved for a long time, and today… I decided to put it on. Literally. Today it was 35 fucking degrees, and I loved it. Only me, it seems, since everyone kept telling me what a horrible perfume I had put on. I don’t perfume myself to please others… but maybe it’s true that it’s a very mature perfume and not for me. It’s beautiful, subtle, but very long-lasting. I’ll enjoy it, but in the most intimate solitude.
It’s a perfume with over 70 years of history and is still used, of course, though I don’t think it smells exactly like it did in the 40s, but it keeps its essence. Although it’s warm, it makes you think of something airy, perhaps due to the aldehydes. From the start, you notice the carnation, cloves, and spices, then the other flowers, highlighting the carnation, followed by spices and woods. Being a classic, its scent almost always reminds us of someone, a grandmother or aunt who used it, but that doesn’t mean it’s dowdy or smells like an “old lady”. It’s elegant, timeless, classic, suitable for any age, and worthy of collection. It reminds me of an elegant lady, well-groomed, in a suit or dress. I can imagine the characters in “The Silence of the Lambs” smelling like this; it appears in the movie as a symbol of status and light. I couldn’t resist and bought it.
This perfume comes from no less than The Silence of the Lambs. It’s a sign of peace after the war, a sign of peace I wish for every person’s life. Its scent perfectly conveys that peace. It’s warm, floral, it’s bottled home. It’s my favorite perfume. However, I’m afraid it might be misunderstood because it’s tremendously French. But as for me, I’m keeping it, and I never expected to like it so much. My 30 ml bottle is there, intact, eager to transmit that sense of peace. 10/10.
I adore powdery scents, and this is one of them, a classic. Although I hadn’t owned it for years, I bought it again, unsure about newer options and in a rush to have a powdery scent. For me, it’s one I’ll never forget. The longevity is very good, and I love its clean, soft scent.
I had it when I was young, before discovering more “sexy” aromas of the time like Poison, Paris, or Tresor… LADT evokes a lot of nostalgia and almost sadness for me, but I think I’ll buy it again.
L’Air du Temps is perhaps one of the highest-quality fragrances on the current market, and with over 70 years of history, it’s hard to do it justice, even when the brand doesn’t try. Today, Nina Ricci has discontinued several jewels: Capricci, Fille d’Eve, the original Nina, and the entire Les Belles de Ricci collection (though they weren’t visually attractive, they had original fragrances), but L’Air du Temps stands tall with dignity. It was created when Robert Ricci, Nina’s son, wanted to expand the business and collaborated with Francis Fabron, Jean Rebull, and Marc Lalique (designer of the 1948 bottle). The idea was to accompany the post-war new era: the doves on the cap symbolize peace, and the bottle the sun. Robert, a romantic, envisioned a hyper-feminine yet optimistic scent; at the time, perfumes were dense, heavy, and formal, reminiscent of war’s boundaries. The French woman was returning from factories, sometimes as a widow, and this perfume was her “ray of happiness”. The selection of notes is not random: in 1948, aldehydes weren’t revolutionary, but they were innovative. Francis Fabron stepped away from the French formula “Jasmine + Iris/Violet” to focus on the carnation, which is the core of the fragrance and perhaps the reason why we Spaniards understand it differently. Today it’s singular: without sweetness, light, fresh, powdery, comparable to soaps and soapy creams, without smelling like body hygiene. It has reduced but perceptible spices, no lingering fruity notes, and perhaps a slight bitterness on some skins (clove is now less prominent). Longevity and sillage are good, and the price is ridiculous. In Portugal, the carnation is a symbol of peace, replacing the smell of gunpowder after the revolution (a poster of a child placing a carnation on a rifle was emblematic). That’s why it might seem melancholic in places where the carnation is only for cemeteries. It’s a modern milestone and a privilege that it’s so accessible.
Every time I smell it, I’m reminded of how quickly time passes… It’s my mother’s perfume, her favorite until today. She still has her first bottle, cylindrical with engraved golden doves, absolutely gorgeous. I’ve had it for over 30 years, and that empty bottle still smells of soft, intense, floral talcum powder—the most feminine scent I’ve ever felt. She hasn’t worn L’Air Du Temps in 15 years, but she always talks about it. I took her to a perfumery to try it; when she asked to smell it, she went silent and said, “Are you sure it’s this one?”. Then I knew it had been reformulated, something we already expected. The sales associate showed her other flankers, but to no avail, so she stuck with the Eau de Toilette, saying she likes it a lot but misses the old version.
The scent of nostalgia. I’m a man, but I bought this fragrance because my grandmother used to wear it. To remember her and pay tribute. As soon as I smelled it, memories flooded back: she was an elegant and sober woman, from a bygone Buenos Aires, an Argentina of another time. She had the habit of maintaining discreet elegance, naturalness in her being, speech, and dress. Among her perfumes were Arpège by Lanvin, Diorissimo, Cabochard, and this one: L’ Air du Temps. It was ‘her’ scent. I don’t want to scare off young women or imply it’s a ‘grandma’ perfume. On the contrary, it has passed the test of time. It conveys a sober, everyday, and timeless elegance. An elegance that is already lost and associated with past times. That’s why it’s the scent of nostalgia for me, of everything that went away forever, like my beloved grandmother.
One day I was with my mom and we went to a department store. Whenever we talk about perfumes, she always mentions this one. I told the sales associate to show us the one she wanted, and she did, saying, ‘mmm, that smells delicious.’ After a while, we left, and she said, ‘the old one was stronger and longer-lasting.’ In that moment, I realized they had already reformulated it.
If I had to relate this perfume to a movie, it would be ‘Les uns et les autres’ by Claude Lelouch. And if it were a song, it would be ‘Un parfum de fin du monde’ from the same film. Listen to the track; it’s beautiful. Or better yet, watch the movie; it’s grand and perfectly matches the story of this perfume.
What beautiful reviews precede mine. Indeed, this perfume moves us because it’s inseparable from its history. L’ Air du Temps means ‘the spirit of an era’: post-war, hope, and a return to life, with an inevitable backdrop of sadness. How can one remain indifferent? It still holds its essence. The carnation bursts energetically from a bed of white flowers, a distinctive, creamy, and sober note. It gives it personality—not innocent, but serene and mature. Its soapy and powdery character connects to the past, to someone close who wore it. It moves us with its story of peace, the two doves by Lalique, and that carnation note associated with both celebration and mourning, tapping into the collective unconscious. The review by Catriel201 about the elegant and discreet woman moved me. Long life to L’ Air du Temps.
I love it more than any other perfume I know. Warning: alongside Shalimar, it’s one of the most ambivalent fragrances that exists—you either love it or hate it, because it either works for you or it doesn’t. If it suits your skin, it can be exquisite or just ‘okay.’ I first smelled it on someone I deeply admired and couldn’t believe it. Then I tried it at a counter, and it was the same. Decades later, one day when my mother was in a coma and I needed a protective memory without her scent, a sample was applied to my wrist. I swear I couldn’t believe it was the same perfume: a soft, powdery, deep, ethereal, and caressing trail. My friend at the store was also fascinated; she said, ‘He chooses, not you.’ Since then, I’ve worn it, and sometimes people don’t believe it’s from the eighties; the anhydrides are light, like a spring breeze that helps add powder. The rose and flowers embrace you ethereally, with warm and woody notes that never sound masculine. The citrus evokes a sunny afternoon in a garden with herbs, not grass—it’s almost magical. But be careful, it can be a nightmare for some, even smelling like urine to them. That’s why it’s love it or hate it. The saleswoman was right: he chooses. It doesn’t seem hormonal, as a young woman and her patients also use and praise it. For me, it’s the best of Nina Ricci; it should be niche because it doesn’t blend with all skin types. By the way, don’t smell it in a department store; it’ll never reach its full potential there.
Aldehydes usually turn me off, just like with Chanel No. 5, but I gave it a shot and it clicked. My pH makes it wonderful; it feels rich and soft on my skin. While its trail and projection are good, it relaxed me and made me happy. Its vintage floral aroma is a relief amidst so much sweetness these days. When I wear it, I feel bold and daring; it’s my act of rebellion against cloying scents.
A true gem of perfumery, elegant and reminiscent of Chanel No. 5. As it dries down, it smells like just out of the bath. It’s totally unisex and an iconic fragrance that tells a story.
It feels too citrusy, very acidic. I like it, but it doesn’t set my soul on fire.
I love it. L’ Air du Temps is floral and feminine, yet classic, elegant, and tender all at once. It’s a gem as a whole.
Just received a 1999 sample today in perfect condition, and this blind buy was a total win. While I adore aldehydes like Van Cleef’s First, this one has a fresh, citrusy, and floral opening with rose and carnation that’s uplifting without being dizzying. White flowers dominate, sitting on a woody base with a spicy start that settles into a clean, powdery, soapy scent. My favorite phase kicks in after an hour and a half: it smells like just out of the shower—cheerful and timeless. It’s nothing like other Nina Ricci creations. The longevity is incredible; I’m still smelling it at six hours and reapply without hesitation. I’d wear it year-round to feel fresh. An absolute gem. I wonder if the reformulation is as good.
Two years ago, I was given a sample, and today I still think about it. It didn’t hesitate to give me the chance to own it, and it remains so charming. Its name references the scent; with one spray and my eyes closed, I think of the passage of time: the journey of a life, fields with freshly blooming flowers, and white birds flying toward freedom. ♥ In my opinion, for anyone and any age, provided they know how to wear it well. It smells of elegance, balance, and peace. A person aware of themselves who enjoys the small things in life and time.
I understand why this perfume wins so many hearts. It’s beautiful, luminous, slightly spicy (like Dolce Vita but much more subtle), oxygenated, and creamy. That light creaminess is its strength and lasts a long time. It’s warm and embraces the wearer, a cozy classic that doesn’t sound loud like others. It’s a soft, whistling melody, ‘pianissima,’ which is a relief. Personally, I prefer the neroli thread of Chanel No. 5, but this is perfect for anyone who doesn’t want to leave a massive trail. Ideal for wearing lightly and cozily, without being overpowering, feeling that particular happiness of smelling good. A perfect gift.
My grandmother brought it back from Paris in 1995, and she always hated it; I kept it when she passed, and I don’t think she’d use it now. You can smell the violet, clove, and something citrusy, plus cloves, rosemary, and jasmine. It’s very aldehydic, very vintage, a bit loud, powdery, and heavy on the woods. For an EDT, it has too many ingredients; if you have a trained nose, the notes are excessive, penetrating all at once, too strong and persistent.
L’Air du Temps, bottled liquid gold, incredible. From 1948 to 2022 is 74 years, and it continues to captivate many noses, including mine. 🥰🤩🥳 The first fragrance I ever smelled was a gift for my mother; that scent is etched in my mind, and I can still describe it well. When I entered the world of perfumery, I discovered the magic of eugenol (the clove note) used by dentists, and how many beautiful things come from that familiar scent that some love and others find repulsive. That is pure perfumery magic. A classic I deeply respect.
I love it. Right after spraying, it smells fresh, then the clove emerges, along with cloves, rose, and gardenia. It lingers on the skin and in the room when you arrive. It’s a spring perfume, though in winter, its clove and spice essence stands out more during the day. It fills you with energy. Another classic I recommend.
A classic delight; no doubt it’s been on the market for so long for a reason. Upon spraying, fresh flowers hit you, then the spicy side comes through with a very elegant clove—I sense violet—and it ends in a beautiful, classy powdery dry down. A lady in spring 💖.
I had zero trust in this perfume. It felt weird; something just didn’t add up. You can smell the jasmine, ylang-ylang, and clove, and over time, a rich soapiness emerges. It literally smells clean. If you’re looking for a clean scent, look no further. Don’t let the vintage label fool you; it’s timeless for any age.
It should be a great perfume, but my skin absorbs everything, and it doesn’t last at all. I imagine reformulations have done it in. It’s vintage, in the vein of Chanel No. 5, Rasasi Afshan, or Yves Rocher Clea, but much lighter. It opens spicy and aldehydic before settling into a soapy, powdery clove. It has a soft sillage and lasts on my skin for at most three hours. The bottle is gorgeous, but since I already own one of its flankers, L’Air du Paradis, I wouldn’t buy the full size (I’ve spent a 5ml decant on that). Although I wanted to love this classic, I’m sticking with Rasasi Afshan for its value. Scent 6.5/10, Longevity 3/10, Sillage 3/10, Value 3/10, Packaging 10/10. Would I buy it again? No.
A timeless beauty! I’m not saying that, @VainillaDulce did, but it was the first thing that came to mind when I tested L’Air du Temps. I’m not a perfume collector, but a collector of scents; I jot down impressions in a notebook to inspire myself later. Thanks to someone sharing their treasures, I got to try it. At first, a very distinct clove note with fresh aldehydes and a slight fruity touch. I can’t pinpoint every note or the rosewood, but I do notice some unlisted spices. The clove never dies; it evolves into something powdery with a touch of bar soap, yet carries a woody imprint that feels calm and warm, with an earthy nuance I assume is lily root and oak moss. Some might find it melancholic, but I link it to ‘saudade,’ that hard-to-translate longing. It reminds me of Fidji by Guy Laroche, but it’s not the same. Projection and longevity are decent. Wearing it alone is great, but on a woman, it should be unforgettable.
Got it because someone gifted me Nina Ricci miniatures. I’m only drawn to the bottle; the scent itself doesn’t convince me. It’s not that I dislike vintage scents—I actually love them sometimes—but this reminds me of old Avon catalog perfumes like Timeless, which I never liked. Plus, it’s too soft for my taste. I still have half the miniature left.
For those wondering what it smells like: Blue tin Nivea cream + Chanel N 5 Eau de Premiere (for the ‘airy’ quality). It’s a light, unisex floral fragrance (smells clean). It has a vintage touch but is very timeless. I recommend it to those who love Chanel N 5 but find it too expensive. Longevity is a bit weak.
A sigh of tenderness and eternity. L’Air du Temps gathers those nuances that fascinate me in old classics: a floral heart where rose takes precedence with delicacy, aldehydes that are a bit challenging at first for evoking 80s lacquers, and that soapy air that envelops the composition. For many, it has a nostalgic tone, anchored in the olfactory memory of past generations, from 1948 to today. It arrived with its iconic doves as a sigh of tenderness after the war, in an era of creative explosion, luxury, and excess, responding to the thirst for beauty that women had been denied. Since then, it’s become an emblematic fragrance, a symbol of prestige. In 1991, in a memorable scene from The Silence of the Lambs, Hannibal Lecter disarmed the aspiring FBI agent by pointing to her modest bag, her cheap shoes… and that expensive perfume, L’Air du Temps, which he could perceive even when she wasn’t wearing it. By then it was already vintage, but it lived in collective memory as an icon of classic beauty. It’s a fragrance that transcends trends and, despite reformulations, I trust it will continue to accompany us.
Beautiful, clean, subtle, and timeless fragrance. L’Air Du Temps opens with airy aldehydes and floral notes; as it dries down, a soapy rose emerges surrounded by spices, balancing warmth and coolness until the very end. The scent reminds me a lot of Nivea’s tin cream (warmth) with a touch of Dove soap’s freshness (coolness). After the first hour, it settles on the skin without wanting to be a projection bomb. In terms of longevity, I tested the French bottle and it lasted about 8 hours; after 3 hours, it’s a skin scent that’s quite comfortable. Ideal for sunny autumns or spring, I don’t see it for extreme winters as it loses strength. I should test the Spanish version, which claims to maintain more depth.
Undoubtedly a great perfume, but I just can’t get past the clove note, like in Red Door, so this classic that my mom and grandma used isn’t for me. But no one can take away its recognition as a fragrance that defined an era and that many women still use today.
Tired of those sweet sugar and caramel bouquets yet? I tried it for work and people have already asked me for the perfume. With the ETD tester, it seems very feminine and olfactorily varied. It smells classic, but it’s a gorgeous fragrance, no wonder it’s been around for over 70 years. It’s a perfumery relic. In fact, it’s very youthful, I’ve proven it. Why do perfume houses assume L’Air du Temps won’t appeal to the youth and hide it in the gondolas? Eras change, tastes and fashions return…
EDT review, elongated bottle, probably from 2009. Floral and wet opening, quite strong. The aldehydes accompany a potent carnation. The initial accord is the green of flowers. As it dries, the spicy side emerges, nutmeg joining the carnations, with iris very deep in the background. In the final phase, it becomes an amalgam that turns into one single scent, a creamy and slightly oily aroma. I repeat that throughout its evolution, there’s something that makes it feel cold and warm at the same time, like a white soap, clean and neat, giving a cold sensation; I can smell that canned Nivea cream, cold yet warm. Its trail on others is grand and indescribable, fresh and spicy carnations that capture all the air. In my case, the longevity exceeds 7-8 hours; I’m still testing it, but it has good projection and I was surprised to receive compliments from modern noses.
A thought for those who call them ‘perfumes for old ladies’ (not because of these previous reviews, which are precious and full of appreciation, but due to a general feeling): Are you aware that in 35 years, young people will say Baccarat Rouge is for grandma or Aventus is for an older man? Just like Pearl Jam or Smashing Pumpkins are now ‘dad music.’ Only someone who believes they’ll never grow old would dare dismiss a fragrance due to ageism. When you’re 70 and still wearing Delina, Angel’s Share, or Erba Pura, and twenty-somethings tell you you smell old, you’ll understand everything. That said: L’air du temps is a beast. A living history of perfumery. A divine bottle with beautiful symbolism. If grandmas smell like this, let them live and enjoy their exquisite taste.
Juana P.’s review said it all, wow, what words!
I already had it with my previous bottle. I’ve loved it since I was young. A scent from another era, one of the first fragrances I fell in love with.
It was my first perfume at 18. It smells like a walk through Paris and San Telmo on a rainy afternoon. It’s romantic, elegant, and melancholic, reminding me of a Sabina or Silvio song in an attic with a foggy window. Perfect for cultural evenings or autumn and winter strolls. It’s timeless, suitable for any age, but not for everyone.