Max Mara

8 reseñas

Mostrando las más recientes primero.

• selene85

  September 1, 2013

  

  An elegant, delicious (nothing cheaply sweet), sparkling fragrance that lasts on the skin and has a great sillage.

• selene85

  September 10, 2013

  

  An elegant, delicious fragrance (nothing cheap or overly sweet), sparkling, with great longevity and a beautiful trail.

• Espartaco

  November 20, 2020

  

  My girlfriend’s perfume in 2004. All those citrus notes and flowers from the era bottled into something without personality or structure, a rootless thing, yet gutsy because it smelled wonderful. It’s 2005 now; the world seems different. We aren’t obsessed with social media yet; people still read newspapers. The 21st century has arrived, yet it feels less modern than promised. No idea of a crisis; everything was running at full speed. Everyone drove a Mercedes that blew your mind, everyone had a modern apartment with a glass shower. You were lounging on your chaise longue, watching a movie and eating, while your girlfriend rested on your lap and a stray lock of hair gifted you a scent of lilies, magnolias, and honeysuckle macerated in citrus and oily musk, with a hint of sexual human skin. If that flat, addictive scent is guilty of being too sweet when dry, so what? It smells of white, citrusy, erotic flowers with nuances of cold and warm talc, spice, and musk—a soft, thick mist, like memories of transparent yet dense floral muslin, like a piece of narcotic ozone. This Max Mara is one of those bland perfumes that smelled deadly, from when sweets were bearable, like a J’Adore version focused on white flowers with a crunchy, unisex ginger touch. It reminds me of another similar one, V Valentino, which was less sweet and had a beautiful cold consistency. And that’s about it: a zero in poetry, with a certain taste of the era’s divine, musky beige-and-white catalogs. It also made me think of flower packaging like lilacs and wisteria, but in gold. Bottled glory. Every time I remember it, my mouth waters. I wouldn’t pay another penny for it. But sometimes the best things are simple, and this was perfect: it smelled amazing.

• Espartaco

  November 27, 2020

  

  My girlfriend’s perfume back in 2004. All those citrus-floral scents that were all the rage then, bottled into a fragrance with no personality, no backbone, no identity—essentially stateless. And yet, damn it, it smelled incredible. It’s 2005 now; the world feels like a distant memory. Social media hasn’t hooked us yet; we still read books. The 21st century has arrived, yet it feels surprisingly less modern than promised. No clue about any coming crisis; everyone’s running at full power. Everyone’s driving a Mercedes that blows your mind, every goddamn person has a modern apartment with a glass shower and an island kitchen. Meanwhile, you’re just lounging on your sofa, a trendy chaise longue, watching a movie and eating junk food, while your girlfriend lies across your legs. A stray lock of hair brushes against you, releasing a scent of lilies, magnolias, and honeysuckle macerated in citrus and oily musk, with a hint of raw, sexual human skin. Sure, that impersonal, flat, monotonous, fucking addictive aroma might be a bit too sweet when it dries down, but who cares? It smells like white citrus florals, erotic, with nuances of both cold and warm talc, spicy and musky all at once. It’s one of those soft yet dense mists, reminiscent of some kind of transparent, heavy floral muslin, like a piece of intensely narcotic ozone. This Max Mara is one of those bland perfumes that smelled like death—the era when sweet scents were still bearable. Think of it as a white-floral-focused version of J’Adore, with a crunchy, unisex ginger twist. It reminds me of another similar one, V Valentino, which was less sweet and had a beautiful cool consistency. That’s about it: a zero in poetry and art, with a distinct catalog perfume vibe from the time. Divine sweet-floral mists in beige and white tones, musky and warm, also making me think of floral, spicy, fragrant blooms like lilacs and wisteria, but in golden hues. Bottled glory. Every time I remember it, my mouth waters. I wouldn’t pay a single extra cent for it. But sometimes the best things are simple, and this was perfect in its only job: smelling amazing.

• Adry_slim

  March 8, 2021

  

  I owned this, not just once but twice, and the second time it was the largest bottle. That’s when I realized it was marketed as a women’s perfume, but I always say scents have no gender or age if worn correctly. To me, this Max Mara was sweet and floral, yet not inherently feminine; in fact, many women told me it smelled amazing. What I do remember is that I smelled better than God, lol.

• Adry_slim

  March 25, 2021

  

  Well, I owned this twice, and the second time I got the bigger bottle. It was when I bought the second one that I realized it was marketed as a women’s fragrance. I’ve always said, and I always will, that scents have no gender or age; it just depends on how you wear them. To me, this Max Mara was sweet and floral, but that didn’t make it feminine. In fact, many women told me I smelled amazing. What I remember perfectly is that no one, not even God, smelled as good as I did. Haha.

• mdelgado

  August 21, 2023

  

  Majestic and queenly! That citrus blend with ginger makes it an incredible, one-of-a-kind fragrance. I was gifted the first bottle, and for the second, I searched high and low. I really wish I could have it back.

• mdelgado

  September 1, 2023

  

  Majestic! Truly queen-worthy. That citrus and ginger blend makes it a wonderful, one-of-a-kind fragrance. My first bottle was a gift, and I had to go to great lengths to get the second one. I really hope I can get my hands on it again.