Le Feu d’Issey

16 reseñas

Mostrando las más recientes primero.

• azuriiita

  June 7, 2013

  

  Masterpiece, discontinued. Thank goodness I found a bottle waiting for me at a rare goods shop where I bought my first perfumes. It’s all contemporary art: the scent, the bottle, and the box. It conveys warmth and freshness at the same time. It was avant-garde, sophisticated, and vibrant, unlike anything else. It boosts my mood and makes me feel comfortable. Even though it’s light, its longevity is excellent. A perfect balance between fruity/floral notes (bergamot, lily, rose) and gourmand/woody ones (milk, caramel, vanilla, cedar), with a soft sandalwood and amber base. Having it in my collection brings me joy 😀

• caneluchis

  October 16, 2013

  

  Discontinued 🙁 It’s a delicious perfume with great longevity. Luckily I have two bottles; I loved it so much I bought a lot. It’s a shame it’s discontinued, but at least I have my stash 🙂

• caneluchis

  October 23, 2013

  

  Discontinued 🙁 It’s a delicious perfume with great longevity. Fortunately, I have two; I liked it so much I bought a lot. It’s a shame it’s discontinued, but how good that I have my stockpiles.

• Krasnylips

  August 17, 2015

  

  It’s a masterpiece by master Jacques Cavallier. An example where all the notes are in harmony and complement each other. Le Feu gives me a sense of happiness and relaxation. The milk and black pepper open the composition, and little by little, you start to feel other nuances. Very interesting to explore. Of course, this perfume not only smells but talks to you.

• Paloma_scc

  March 2, 2016

  

  It’s my favorite perfume. I was searching for it without realizing just how much it would match my taste. I adored it, bought it in Paris, and never imagined the kind of scent I was acquiring; if I had known it was going to be discontinued, I would have bought a whole batch forever, haha. If anyone knows a perfume that smells like orange soda with wood notes, I’d appreciate the info…

• Paloma_scc

  March 13, 2016

  

  It’s my favorite perfume; I searched for it beyond imagination, and it was exactly my taste. I loved it, bought it in Paris, and never imagined the kind of perfume I was acquiring; if I had known they were discontinuing it, I would have bought a whole batch to keep for a lifetime, haha. If anyone knows what perfume smells like orange soda with wood, I’d appreciate the info.

• gmoranch

  June 1, 2017

  

  Paloma_scc: Very similar to Le Feu D’Issey, I believe it’s Elixir des Merveilles by Hermès, another gem in perfumery. What a shame they discontinued Le Feu, a true work of art. But try Elixir, I’m sure you’ll like it.

• gmoranch

  June 3, 2017

  

  Paloma_scc: Very similar to Le Feu D’Issey; I think it’s Elixir des Merveilles by Hermès, another gem in perfumery. It’s a pity they discontinued Le Feu, a true work of art. But try Elixir, you’ll surely like it.

• URA

  November 4, 2017

  

  I had it years ago, and it’s so peculiar that I haven’t found another like it. As they say, what a pity they don’t make it anymore. 03/01/23 EDIT: Seeing how impossible it is to get it back and letting myself be guided by votes on its similarity to Etro’s Etra, I decided to buy it. I have to say that, besides being immensely happy to feel this composition again, it resembles Le Feu by 95%. Maybe with less intensity, but it’s a delight.

• Kharynbranchet

  January 11, 2019

  

  Perfumes like this were discontinued, and I still ask why? Ahead of its time. Few understood the complexity of these fragrances. It was truly a shame they took it off the market.

• Kharynbranchet

  January 18, 2019

  

  Perfumes like this were discontinued, and I still wonder why? It was ahead of its time. Few understood the complexity of these fragrances. It’s a real shame they stopped making it.

• Espartaco

  July 9, 2019

  

  Miyake’s Le Feu was visionary, anticipating the trend of orangey tonka woods that would take years to explode. Maybe a decade isn’t much in history, but fashion changes in a click. The mix of hot, spicy gourmand notes and that roasted sweetness that defied both heat and cold made no sense in 1998 because simply didn’t exist… Well, there was milk, sandalwood, and amber, common ingredients back then. But they didn’t smell like Le Feu; they were heirs to dusty talc and vanilla formulas that cut through the eighties, like Dune and Roma. Any perfume with the amber/sandalwood/milk trio was an evolution, perhaps more modern, but still an evolution of Dior’s Dune. Le Feu had nothing to do with the previous ones; it didn’t even speak the language of what was selling: aquatic fruits, ozonic florals, or woody orientals. This went its own way, and saving distance, because it was very avant-garde, closer to perfumes that would arrive years later like Calvin Klein Euphoria or Miss Dior Chérie. Le Feu was a gourmand, a family I don’t really appreciate, but being one of the first and perfectly assembled, I can’t say a single bad word. More than a gourmand, it was a sacramental, atavistic perfume with an esoteric burning sweetness. Discovering it is worth it; today it might not say much on the first spray, but when it evolves, it reveals its greatness. On the first caramelized, hot application, with evident granulated tonka, it joined warm fresh spices, a surprising dance of temperatures: a spicy fire current and a milky cool breeze. That was the grace of this Miyake, an interesting dry-down where the blend settled like a living paste, facing toasted hues with orange tones, fire with cold, resinous sweetness with velvet rose threads and spices that won’t leave your nose, as if looking through a microscope at a rare microscopic life that never stops moving, a small miniature chaos made into perfume. It also made me think of prehistoric rituals around the fire, and the name was never so apt. A couple of years ago I had a bottle being liquidated for two euros. I didn’t take it because I don’t like it for its warmth; it’s the opposite of the fragrances I fall in love with, the ones that make you think of shadows. I regret it so much. Le Feu was a work of art, not just for the gorgeous bottle, but for what it held inside, light-years ahead of any other perfume made to smell good. P.S.: If you find it at a good price, don’t let it slip away. The owner has a treasure signed by Jacques Cavallier. Saying white thrush and unicorn is an understatement. It’s worth it for being visionary, artistic, and a true rarity.

• Espartaco

  July 25, 2019

  

  Miyake’s fire was visionary; he beat the trend of burnt orange ouds by a decade. A decade might not seem like much in history, but fashion changes with a click. That hot, spiced gourmand blend, that toasted sweetness that defied both heat and cold, made no sense in 1998 because it didn’t exist. Sure, there was milk, sandalwood, and amber—common ingredients back then—but they didn’t smell like Le Feu; they were heirs to talcum solar and vanilla formulas that clashed with the eighties. Any perfume with that trio was an evolution of Dior’s Dune, but Le Feu had nothing to do with it, not even speaking the language of what was selling: aquatic fruits, ozonic florals, or woody orientals. This went its own way, and although it’s a gourmand (which I don’t usually care for), it was assembled perfectly. More than a gourmand, it was a sacramental, atavistic perfume with an esoteric, burning sweetness. It’s worth discovering; today it might not say much on the first spray, but as it evolves, it reveals its greatness. At first, that caramelized, hot vapor with evident granular oud joined warm fresh spices, a surprising dance of temperatures: spiced fire and milky cool breeze. That was the trick: an interesting dry-down where the blend settled like a living paste, facing toasted tones against oranges, fire against cold, resinous sweetness against velvety rose and spices that don’t overwhelm you, as if looking through a microscope at a rare life in motion, a mini-caos. It also made me think of prehistoric rituals around the fire, and the name was so fitting. A couple of years ago, I had a bottle being liquidated for two dollars. I didn’t take it because I don’t like its warmth; I seek fragrances in the shadows. I regret it so much. Le Feu was art, not just for the gorgeous bottle, but for what it held inside, light-years ahead of any other perfume. P.S.: If you find it cheap, don’t let it slip away. The owner has a treasure signed by Jacques Cavallier. Saying white thrush and unicorn is an understatement. It’s worth it for being visionary, artistic, and a rarity.

• obder1

  January 14, 2023

  

  Down with the killers and serial discontinuers!

• svazquez7

  February 8, 2023

  

  I picked it up at a great price and I have to say, smelling it makes me furious to see how the brand now releases nothing but graceless water. This is art. I feel it’s more feminine, but it works amazingly on young men. It’s a heavy, sweet fragrance, very sophisticated. You can definitely notice that rare milky note in the evolution. I’m surprised the peach isn’t there, but it’s hinted at. It smells like a fairytale.

• Ycsy44

  September 6, 2025

  

  Nothing beats this masterpiece. I absolutely adore it. I’ve been searching for it in vain for over 20 years. My sister gifted it to me when I was about 19; she didn’t like it, but for me, it was love at first sight. Unbeatable.