Mystere

16 reseñas

Mostrando las más recientes primero.

• gmoranch

  March 15, 2014

  

  Exquisite fragrance, what a pity it’s impossible to find anywhere.

• gmoranch

  March 27, 2014

  

  Exquisite fragrance, what a shame it can’t be found anywhere anymore.

• charlotinable

  October 31, 2017

  

  What a pity that something so beautiful and unique from the Rochas house is no longer available. A decade ago, I got a bottle, and my mother and I didn’t finish it with great delight. Truly, if I found one around, I wouldn’t hesitate twice to get it again and love it as a perfume monument deserves.

• Natalia Arenas

  November 21, 2018

  

  I remember it, and it was a great perfume that I couldn’t use much because it suddenly disappeared from the market. It’s a shame that Rochas stopped making perfumes in this category; Byzance, Lumiere, Mystere, Madame (original formula), Absolu, and Alchimie in those spectacular bottles took this house to the top. Today they manufacture reformulations of about 4 or 5 fragrances and sell them in horrible bottles. I have a very special memory of Mystere because it was my mother’s favorite.

• Florsi59

  October 21, 2019

  

  What a perfume! This brings back memories of the nineties. It’s my mom’s, her love, her hug, her warmth. Elegant, complex, and with just two drops, you’d smell good for a week.

• Florsi59

  November 1, 2019

  

  What a perfume! It brings back memories of the 90s. It’s my mom’s, her love, her hug, her warmth. Elegant, complex, with two drops you smelled like perfume for a week.

• Espartaco

  November 18, 2019

  

  Mystere is another of those perfumes that today rarely manage to seduce. Aside from a few rare occasions, society’s tastes shift with the fads, just like that 80s photo where your friends exclaim, ‘Oh my god, how could we dress like that.’ In twenty years, they’ll say the same about photos from 2019. Tastes dictated by fashion get ingrained in our veins, and almost no one is immune. In a society that judges everything aesthetically, perfumes like this would be pushed to the sidelines. What a greater disappointment, Mystere, nothing more, nothing less. Thank God it’s an inanimate object, but animists would suffer watching it endure blind test exclamations of disgust and expressions of repulsion for its animal, herbaceous, and mossy notes. To appreciate it, you have to put yourself in its skin of the era. Whether you like it later is another story; no one forces you, but you must judge with the knowledge that everything, even taste, is changeable. It doesn’t deserve the ‘smells old’ label because in the seventies it was the creme de la creme—the most expensive in the world that you bought after months of saving and used drop by drop. It always went with beige, brown, dirty white attire, sober and intellectual cuts. Mystere smelled of intelligence. An acidic, turpentine-like opening with coriander and moss, a slight twist of dirty algae with a hint of urine that lasts briefly, transitioning to young, wet wood, green galbanum, and aromatic notes, until a ghostly nebula where the almost fecal sweetness of the narcissus dominates, with a spicy, herbaceous, and woody bitterness in the form of talc. Something you’ve smelled a thousand times, but not because it’s repeated does it become banal; it was a true gem. If it differs from other herbaceous chypres, it’s not in gravity, but in a tone of formality friendly to few jokes. It’s not as youthful as Miss Dior, nor aldehydic-floral as Fidji, nor sparkly as Madame Rochas, nor atavistic as Magie Noire. It could be a more austere version of Caleche. Rochas Mystere was precise, an exact dose of delicacy and bravery; in between lies only restraint. Sometimes restraint is necessary. A wonder, indeed. Whoever has seen you and whoever sees you, Rochas!

• Espartaco

  November 21, 2019

  

  Mystere is another of those perfumes hardly capable of seducing today. Except for rare occasions, society’s tastes mutate with fashion. That typical 80s photo where your friends exclaim, ‘my god, how could we dress like that’; in twenty years, they’ll say the same about photos from 2019. Tastes marked by fashion get into our veins, and almost no one is free. Faced with a society that judges everything aesthetically, perfumes like Mystere would be pushed to the corner. And what a bigger disappointment: Mystere. Thank God it’s an inanimate object, but animists would suffer seeing how it would hold up in a blind tasting against exclamations of disgust, frowns of displeasure, and twisted noses of repugnance for its animal, herbaceous, and mossy notes. To value things like Mystere, you have to put yourself in its skin. Whether you like it or not afterwards is another matter. No one forces you to like something you don’t like, but you must judge with the knowledge that everything, even taste, is changeable and educable. Perfumes like this don’t deserve the ‘smells old’ label; herbaceous, acrid, mossy, dirty, with a putrid sweetness, in their moment, the late 70s, were the crème de la crème, the most expensive, the ones you bought after saving for months and used drop by drop. They always went with beige, brown, dirty white attire, sober cuts, intellectual, serene. Perfumes like Mystere smelled of intelligence. I won’t decipher its evolution; it’s easy for anyone who knows the family. Acidic and turpentine-like opening with a predominance of coriander and moss, a slight twist of filthy algae with a hint of urine that lasts nothing, then a transition to young, wet wood, green galbanum, and aromatic, until reaching a ghostly nebula where the almost fecal sweetness of the narcissus prevails, with a certain bitter, spicy, herbaceous, and woody touch in the form of talc. Something you’ve smelled a thousand times, but not because it’s repeated does it become banal; Mystere was a jewel. P.S.: If it differs from other herbaceous and galbanum chypres, it’s not in gravity, but in a certain tone of formality that is not severe, but friendly to few jokes. It’s not as youthful as Miss Dior, nor aldehydic floral like Fidji, nor sparkly like Madame Rochas, nor atavistic and medicinal like Magie Noire. It could be a more austere and mysterious version of Caleche. Rochas Mystere was precise, an exact dose of delicacy and bravery; in between lies only restraint. And sometimes, restraint is greatly needed. A marvel. Who saw you and who sees you now, Rochas.

• VampireLuv93

  March 18, 2021

  

  What a tragedy that a perfume like this no longer exists. Undoubtedly, Mystere is one of the best I’ve ever known. I have a special affection for it because it was my mother’s perfume, along with Paloma Picasso; perhaps that’s why I hold it in such high regard, it reminds me of very good times. It has hints from the late 70s and already announces the trends of the 80s. It’s green, animalic, floral, but those sweet, slightly putrid flowers; it doesn’t smell bad, quite the opposite. It’s very original and, like its name, has mystery. Maybe the sandalwood gives it that great depth. It has that orgasmic smell of old books, projecting intelligence and depth. It’s also elegant and formal. Sincerely, for me, it is: the perfume. I like it so much that if I found it, I’d buy it; it smells more masculine than many today, but not because of that, it’s a scent that today could be perfectly unisex. However, it doesn’t fit current demand, perhaps that’s why Rochas removed it; it’s a shame. It’s very marked, from a bygone era, but sometimes things executed so well are needed. With Mystere, I think of someone like María Félix, enigmatic beauty and strong personality, plus intelligent. Perhaps it’s the perfect perfume for someone, man or woman, who belongs to a lodge or sect, has a touch of darkness or ritual. As always, a perfume helps you project the personality you desire. Its very name says it all: it’s a true mystery. I hope to find it again, Rochas Mystere.

• VampireLuv93

  March 25, 2021

  

  What a tragedy that a perfume like this no longer exists. Without a doubt, it’s one of the best I’ve ever encountered. I have a special affection for it because it was my mother’s, along with Paloma Picasso; perhaps that’s why it reminds me of very good times. It has late-seventies tints and announces the trends of the eighties. It’s green, animalic, floral, but with those sweet, slightly putrid flowers; it doesn’t smell bad, quite the opposite. Very original and mysterious, just like its name. Perhaps the sandalwood gives it that great depth. It has that orgasmic scent of old books, projecting intelligence and depth. It’s elegant and formal. Sincerely, for me, it is: the perfume. I like it so much that if I found it, I would buy and use it; it smells more masculine than many today, but it’s a scent that today would be perfectly unisex. It doesn’t fit current demand, perhaps that’s why Rochas pulled it from the market, and it’s a shame. If it’s too marked, it’s from a bygone era, but sometimes things like this, so well crafted, are needed. With Mystere, I’m reminded of someone like María Félix, enigmatic beauty with a strong personality, plus intelligent. Perhaps it’s the perfect perfume for someone who belongs to a lodge or sect, having a touch of darkness or ritual. A perfume helps you express the personality you wish to project. Your disappearance is a true mystery; I hope you’re found again, Rochas Mystere.

• Selene

  October 14, 2022

  

  Don’t try to play with it, you’ll lose. It has cunning, tenacity, and elegance. It chooses its audience meticulously, discards what it doesn’t like with coldness, but sweetens the experience for those who make it feel good. It has lovers all over the world, well-separated to avoid trouble. It has few friends; its company is its own presence; it’s never known too well to earn that title, but I do know who I am. Mystere comes from a transitional era between green fragrances and narcotic floral-animal scents. There’s a bit of everything in its essence. It doesn’t like to compare itself with Paloma Picasso (which came later) or Magie Noire. Of the latter, Mystere thinks its garden of flowers is more interesting, and I don’t think it’s wrong; its floral side is more sumptuous, while Lancôme emphasizes spicy woods. The carnation and white flowers give it that creamy, seductive touch, and the union of galbanum and hyacinth adds a herbal aura. In its depths, a liquorish moss emanates, something animalic with a subtle spice, a well-voluptuous dusty aroma. One spray is enough; it lasts incredibly long, and its projection is limitless. My review is about the old EDP. You have to learn to appreciate its company to capitalize on its potential and not come out losing. Sublime. In those years, Rochas never disappointed.

• anamariahermida

  January 14, 2023

  

  I’ve been looking for a fragrance similar to this for over 25 years; I gave up, it was impossible, it doesn’t exist. I’ll never understand why they stopped making this gem. It was my signature perfume from age 25 to 30 when I found out it had been discontinued. The bottle lasted me five years; I used it for very special occasions and only at night. Two sprays, one behind each ear, a third on the décolletage, and you’d smell like Mystere for two days. It’s the only perfume in my long life that remained tattooed on my skin even after a shower. It broke all records of compliments and ‘what perfume are you wearing?’ What a trail, by God! In both closed and open spaces, no nose was immune. In closed spaces, it lingered for a good while after you’d left because it stuck to everything you touched and everyone you greeted with a kiss, and I won’t even tell you if you danced with someone; they’d smell just as perfumed as you, so better be single. I remember putting it on and feeling like the goddess Aphrodite. In my life, I will never forgive you, Rochas.

• anamariahermida

  January 30, 2023

  

  I’ve been searching for something like this for over 25 years and have given up; it’s impossible, it doesn’t exist. I’ll never understand why they stopped making this jewel. It was my signature scent from age 25 to 30, when I found out it had been discontinued. One bottle lasted me five years; I used it only for special occasions and at night. Two sprays behind each ear, a third on the décolletage, and it smelled like Mystere for two days. It tattooed itself onto my skin after bathing. I received all the compliments and questions about what perfume I was wearing; the trail was incredible, both in enclosed and open spaces, lingering on everything you touched or kissed. If you danced with someone, better be single, because they’d smell just like you. I’d put it on and feel like the goddess Aphrodite. I will never forgive you, Rochas.

• Mauwint

  March 30, 2023

  

  Pure elegance with a lot of character. Ideal for nights out on special occasions. It never goes unnoticed. The blend of violet, jasmine, and cedar is unbeatable. What a shame it doesn’t exist anymore; it brings me so much nostalgia.

• Marisolis

  August 27, 2024

  

  A masterpiece. The last time I got my hands on it, I bought five bottles, and I only have one left. I wear it anytime, in any weather, because it’s a true delight. It reflects the care, opulence, and quality of perfumes from that era.

• Neros

  February 26, 2026

  

  I’m a man, but I’m speaking up because Mystere was the perfume of my late wife, and nothing comes close. When they pulled it from the market, she searched tirelessly without success. It’s pure elegance; next to it, many modern fragrances sound vulgar, even if they’re expensive. Any woman who wore it became the center of attention and questions. I know it’s old, but elegance, good taste, and quality don’t have an expiration date.