Men
Ninfeo Mio
Acordes principales
Descripción
Ninfeo Mio by Goutal is an aromatic woody fragrance for men and women. Launched in 2010, this composition was created by Camille Goutal and Isabelle Doyen. The top notes unfold with citron, Amalfi lemon, galbanum, petit grain, and bitter orange; the heart reveals fig leaves and lentisc resin; while the base settles on woody notes.
Resumen rápido
Cuándo llevarla (votos)
Notas clave
Comunidad
1,778 votos
- Positivo 83%
- Negativo 14%
- Neutral 2.5%
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
Compara tiendas verificadas para Ninfeo Mio y elige según envío, precio o disponibilidad.
Amazon
Envío rápidoEntrega rápida y política de devoluciones conocida.
Ideal si priorizas velocidad y disponibilidad.
Ver en AmazoneBay
Más opcionesMás opciones de precio, formatos y vendedores.
Útil para comparar alternativas antes de decidir.
Ver en eBayCaracterísticas
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.
38 reseñas
Mostrando las más recientes primero.
Category:





Instantly, an explosion of lemon and bitter orange—natural, yet with that sharp, potent edge. After about twenty minutes, the citrus calms down and gives way to fig and mastic (I admit I don’t know what mastic is, haha), which on my skin smells like wet grass and freshly cut lawn. Up to this point, it doesn’t smell like perfume, but something real, like a child playing on the grass (I remember getting this vibe with Ninfeo Mio too). Then it softens; a light woody veil appears, and the citrus recedes into the background without disappearing. A familiar scent emerges, like bread or a cinnamon dessert—similar to the L from Lolita Lempicka but less sweet. I agree with the box: it’s a walk by the river, though on my skin, someone seems to have taken some delicious cinnamon rolls with them.
I adore this perfume for summer; it’s one of my favorites. My boyfriend gave it to me after returning from a trip and seeing the ruins of Tivoli, the base of Eau d’Adrien, what memories! The scent of fig leaves, lemon, cedar wood, and the rest of the notes make it unique. I’ve tried several fig perfumes, but none come close to the sole of this one; undoubtedly, it’s magical. It’s very hesperidic, and every time I wear it, people ask me about it. It’s also based on other Italian ruins, specifically the Garden of the Hesperides (Giardini di Ninfa in Latina), a beautiful garden that intertwines with the ruins of an ancient Roman city.
On paper, the first impression was intense: Amalfi lemon (you can tell it’s not common), more natural than I’ve ever felt, followed by petit grain and cider, quite intense. It evolves into very green fig leaves, the heart of the fragrance, extremely natural. At four hours, I perceived something soft and sweet, then the woody notes. I don’t recognize the mastic resin of mastic as a separate note. At nine hours, the sweet wood remains, but the fig leaf is still felt. At twelve hours, a soft and delicate impression of sweet woods. On skin, it has a powerful sillage for the first three or four hours. By six hours, it’s in the wood phase, sillage dropped to moderate or weak, with fig still perceptible. At twelve hours, soft and delicate wood but right up against the skin. It’s the most natural I’ve ever felt and evolves harmonically from strong citrus to an intense green note that isn’t overwhelming, ending in soft, slightly sweet, or smoky wood. On my skin, it lasted over 12 hours with heavy sillage at the start, dropping to moderate and weak. Ideal for summer and daytime. Very Mediterranean, cheerful, and vital. I’d recommend it to those who miss the vintage version of Dior’s Dune pour homme for that extremely real, rare, and special fig note in men’s perfumery.
On paper, the first impression was intense with Amalfi lemon, more natural than I’ve ever felt, then petit grain and quince, also intense. Then it evolves toward the fig leaf note, very green and extremely natural. At 4 hours, I started to perceive something soft and sweet, the woody notes. I don’t recognize the lentisk resin as a separate note. At 9 hours, the sweet wood continues, but the fig leaf is still felt. At 12 hours, a soft and delicate impression of woods, somewhat sweet. On skin, it has powerful sillage for the first 3 or 4 hours. At 6 hours, it drops to moderate or weak sillage, with the fig leaf still perceptible. At 12 hours, soft and delicate wood at skin-level. The fragrance is the most natural I’ve ever felt and evolves harmonically from strong citrus to sweet or smoky wood. On me, it exceeded 12 hours with heavy sillage at the start, then moderate to weak. Ideal for summer and day. Very Mediterranean, cheerful, and vital. I’d dare recommend it to those who miss the vintage version of Dior Dune pour homme for that extremely realistic fig note, which is scarce in men’s perfumery.
A masterpiece by Annick Goutal. Possibly the best fig fragrance, or rather, fig leaf fragrance, I’ve ever tried (and believe me, I’ve tried many). Pungent lemony-citrus opening with a very green fig note, perhaps a bit rough. As it settles, wood and resin appear, sweetening it greatly. The longevity is beastly for this type of perfume, and the sillage is quite heavy. Apply moderately. It’s much denser than other Goutal citrus scents like Eau d’Hadrien. Perhaps it’s the most high-quality, long-lasting, striking, and well-balanced citrus I’ve ever experienced. It tries to convey a walk through the gardens of Ninfa in Rome; I’ve never been there, but it must be spectacular. A masterpiece.
A masterpiece by A. Goutal. Possibly the best fig fragrance, or rather, the best fig leaf fragrance I’ve tried (and believe me, many). Pungent citrus in the opening with a very green fig note, perhaps a bit rough. As it settles, the wood and resin notes appear, sweetening the fragrance a lot. The longevity is beastly for this type of perfume, and the sillage is quite heavy. Spray it moderately. It’s much ‘denser’ than other Goutal citrus fragrances like Eau d’Hadrien. Perhaps it’s the highest quality, longest-lasting, most striking, and best-balanced citrus fragrance I’ve ever tried. It tries to convey the sensation of walking through the gardens of Ninfa in Rome. I’ve never been there, but it must be a spectacular walk. As said: A Masterpiece.
For anyone who thinks citrus is simple, Ninfeo Mio is a full-on citrus but nothing simple. It has excellent originality, very different from everything I’ve smelled, even other lemon and herb-based scents. Drakecito sent me a decant, and the first time I smelled it, I wasn’t fully won over; it seemed more like a scent taken from a place, very natural and faithful. It tries to convey a walk through a garden and succeeds; when you smell it, you feel surrounded by nature, and it changes your mood. I’ve read others relax with it and tried it; they were good, but they didn’t affect me; Ninfeo Mio does, transmitting the peace only nature gives. I must say that because it’s so different, my first impression wasn’t instant love; the fig leaf note felt very rough (at first I thought it was wood), but it wasn’t unpleasant, it was new to my nose. The second time, applying it to the neck, the result was different: more accustomed to the aroma, it wasn’t so rough, and I felt the citrus-fresh and sweet balance very well. The sweetness is delicious, not cloying or suffocating (and I’m easily suffocated by sweet aromas); it’s so natural and well-balanced with the green and citrus that it’s a delight from start to finish. In summary, it’s a complex, very original, light, and delicious citrus. I see it for special occasions; it seems like one of those that won’t ever bore me, so I might finish many bottles.
For those who don’t like citrus because they think it’s simple, let me tell you that Ninfeo Mio is a citrus in every sense, but in no way simple. It has excellent originality, very different from everything I’ve smelled. Drakecito sent me a decant, and the first time I smelled it, I wasn’t totally in love. It seemed more like a scent from a certain place, very natural and faithful. It tries to convey a walk through a garden and really succeeds; you feel surrounded by nature and it influences your mood. I’ve tried perfumes that claimed to relax me and were good, but they didn’t influence me; Ninfeo Mio does convey tranquility and peace. I must say my first impression wasn’t love at first sniff; the fig leaf note felt very rough (at first I thought it was a rough wood), but it wasn’t unpleasant, simply it was new to my nose. The second time, applying it on the neck, it was very different. Once accustomed to the aroma, it wasn’t so rough, and I felt the citrus-fresh and sweet balance very well. The sweetness is delicious, not cloying or suffocating, and I am very sensitive to sweet aromas. It’s so natural and well-balanced that it’s a delight from start to finish. In summary, it’s a complex citrus, very original, light, and delicious. I see it for special occasions; I think I’ll never get bored, so I might finish many bottles.
Ninfeo Mio receives many positive reviews about how it makes people feel or the landscapes they imagine, an evocative fragrance. It didn’t happen to me. I liked it quite a bit, but there’s a detail that doesn’t convince me. It starts very citrusy and realistic, an explosion of lemon and leaves, something bitter. It smells very organic, like crushing a lemon leaf in your hands. I love the opening. As it settles, it feels spicier, bitter, and a bit sweet. My only memory with the fig leaf is biting one when I was little and it stung my tongue terribly; that’s why I relate the smell to something spicy, though I’ve read it gives creaminess, I don’t feel that here. I smell something mentholated and fresh. Yes, it smells sweeter over time, but being used to gourmands, I’d never say it smells like a little dessert. It’s a natural sweetness, no added sugar, the same as flowers and fruits. Now, before the base, something strange happens to me: a characteristic and not very pleasant aroma. On f.com, people read it reminds them of sweat, others of cat urine, and I think that’s the last thing I smell. It’s an acidic combination that smells like that, similar to overly intense blackcurrants or cassis. I suppose it’s a matter of pH, and with Ninfeo Mio, I didn’t get lucky; personally, it doesn’t bother me much, but one person did notice it, haha. On my skin, this phase lasts longer than the others, but after a while it dissipates a bit, leaving a very pleasant woody-citrus aroma, plus the leaf scent is always present, which I like.
Just a small comment on my friend @Cnidaria’s review. Regarding the creaminess, I think that comes from the fig, but the fruit, not the leaf. The leaf is very green and can produce that sensation of itchiness or roughness. It’s a very organic scent that, as it dries, becomes sweeter, but it never turns into a sweet fragrance; it’s very far from gourmand. I’ve never noticed that point about sweat or cat urine. Maybe it’s the lentisk; I don’t know. That sweat smell usually occurs when notes like caraway and cardamom are overused, which is noticeable if you overapply Declaration by Cartier. Greetings.
Well, Ninfeo Mio doesn’t smell like sweat to me at all, but rather something damp. Now that it’s hot, it has convinced me a lot, and I showed it to several people who said it smelled very natural. Now, that sweat smell… haha. I’ve noticed it with notes like cumin, which is a dry, strong sweat, or guava, which simulates a damp sweat. Oh, what things. Haha, I’m doing so poorly that now I need to smell the lentisk. Greetings to everyone.
I’ve noticed that Ninfeo Mio receives many positive reviews about how it makes you feel or the landscapes it evokes; it’s a very evocative fragrance. It hasn’t happened to me. I’ve liked it quite a bit, but there’s one detail that doesn’t fully convince me. It starts very citrusy and realistic, an explosion of lemon and leaves, something bitter. It smells very ‘organic,’ as if you were crushing a lemon leaf in your hands. I love the opening. As it settles, it feels spicier, bitter, and a little sweet. My only memory with the fig leaf is that when I was little, I bit one, and it stung my tongue terribly, so I relate the scent to something spicy, although I’ve read it gives creaminess, I don’t feel it here. I also smell something mentholated and fresh. Yes, it becomes sweeter over time, but being accustomed to gourmands, I would never say it smells like a dessert. It’s a natural sweetness, without added sugar. Before reaching the base, it gives me a characteristic and not very pleasant aroma, which reviews say reminds them of sweat or cat urine. I think that’s the last part. It’s an acidic combination, similar to blackcurrants or cassis that are too intense. I suppose it’s a matter of pH; on my skin, this phase lasts longer, but after a while, it dissipates, leaving a very pleasant woody-citrus aroma, with the leaf note always present.
Undoubtedly, it’s a citrus-herbal perfume, more than a woody aromatic. From the start, I perceived a very strong fig leaf scent, accompanied by citrus, without noticing the woody base notes mentioned. It was very linear during the 9 hours it lasted on me. The first 6 hours I noticed it clearly with moderate sillage, with the fig leaf always standing out. The next 3 hours dropped to skin-level scent but didn’t lose that main note. Honestly, I expected more class and distinction. I’m not saying it’s bad, as its ingredients feel high quality, very natural, almost organic as @cnidaria said, but it’s precisely that which makes it rustic and lacking elegance. It’s like a diamond: the hardest material, but that hardness gives it fragility. I’m not saying natural fragrances are rustic, but this translates to fig leaves and citrus, nothing more. Although I’m not a chemist or a perfumer, it feels like it could be easily imitated with cheap chemicals. I remember a fig tree in my grandparents’ yard that smelled exactly like this; that’s why it doesn’t evoke great landscapes, but rather that tree from which I cut many fruits. I had 9 hours of longevity and moderate sillage, ideal for intermediate ages and climates. I tested it at 40°C, and maybe it works better in cooler weather.
In the opening, what stands out most isn’t the fig, but the quince, a rare and unknown citrus in perfumery, along with Amalfi lemon, which, as Priethcallas says, is different from the usual. After the citrus phase, the fig leaf rises, making the fragrance very green. Once that settles, it becomes sweet with a lentisk note and a fairly subtle woody base. It’s hard to find a fragrance with such an evolution. As for longevity, 9 hours isn’t moderate; it’s a world record. The legendary Guerlain Vetiver lasts 4-5 hours on me and fades away, while Ninfeo can beat records, at least in its style, although there are legendary orientals like Opium that also stay close to those 9 hours. As for the imitation with cheap chemicals, well, obviously, like all of them. Many fragrances don’t imitate anything and are made with cheap chemicals; those are the truly ‘chemical’ and ‘cheap’ ones. XD
Maybe I didn’t express myself well, but when I said it could be imitated with cheap chemicals, I meant that, for me, it lacks that touch of distinction and elegance found in other fragrances. Unlike things like Le Labo Santal 33 or Eternity Aqua, which truly convey something ‘refined’ and special, Ninfeo Mio sounds like a supermarket cologne, like Adidas or Playboy. It’s not that it’s bad; it just doesn’t leave a mark. On the other hand, let’s talk about the legendary longevity of Guerlain’s Vetiver. I had a bottle from 2002 that lasted about 12 hours, which is beastly. If 9 hours is the record, 12 is forever, hehe, I exaggerated a bit, but it is notable. Now, that vintage bottle I have, bought recently, has been reformulated and lasts 2 or 3 hours, just like the new rectangular one. If your ‘vintage’ is from 3 or 4 years ago, it’s probably been reformulated too, and that’s the key to its low longevity. By the way, I bought it as a gift but kept it because the recipient said it smelled more masculine than feminine. And she was right; it leans masculine without losing its unisex appeal. I’ll be listing it on eBay.
Undoubtedly, a citrus-herbal perfume, more than an aromatic woody one, that’s how I consider it. From the beginning, I perceived the fig leaf smell very strongly, accompanied by citrus and nothing else; the supposed woody base notes I never managed to detect. All of this in a very linear way from start to finish during the approximate 9-hour duration. During the first 6 hours, I noticed it clearly with moderate sillage, with the fig leaf always standing out, and in the following 3 hours, it stayed very close to the skin without losing its distinction among other citrus scents. Honestly, I expected more, something with more class and distinction; I’m not saying it’s bad, since its aroma is uncommon and its ingredients feel of good quality and very natural, almost organic as @cnidaria said, but that’s precisely what makes it rustic and somewhat lacking in elegance. Just as the diamond is the hardest material, that hardness gives it great fragility; they go hand in hand. I’m not saying natural fragrances are rustic, but here it translates to fig leaves and citrus and nothing else. Although I’m not a chemist or designer, this fragrance gives me the impression that with lower quality, duration, and sillage, it could be easily imitated with cheap chemicals. I remember there was a fig tree in my grandparents’ yard with a very similar smell; perhaps that’s why, and due to its rusticity, it doesn’t evoke great places or countryside walks, but rather that tree from which I cut many fruits. I had moderate longevity of about 9 hours, moderate sillage for the first 6, and the last 3 very close to the skin. For intermediate ages and climates. Finally, I tested it in really hot weather, around 40°C; perhaps it would have better performance in sillage, longevity, and aroma in cooler weather, I’ll test it more later and if so, I’ll post another review.
Probably I won’t add anything new, already described masterfully by everyone until it made me want to buy it. It’s true, Drakecito, go ask for that commission 🙂 I want to highlight that perceptions vary: the same perfume doesn’t smell the same to everyone, nor the same to oneself at different times of the day or seasons. That fascinates me about perfumery. This fragrance, rich in nuances, is pure art: natural, citrusy, green, and aquatic, but infinitely less simple than others in its category. Annick Goutal dominates the aromatic-citrus genre, as we saw before, and carries it to perfection with Ninfeo Mio. I’ll add to Annabel Lee about the ‘sweetness,’ which perhaps wasn’t understood well. For her, it reminds her of a cinnamon dessert; for me, not so much, but I note that fig and leaf aromas can be sweet due to ‘milky’ and ‘creamy’ chords, even with coconut notes (Philosykos uses this to enhance the fig’s creaminess, just like Premier Figuier with sandalwood). The purpose seems to combine warm and fresh chords, like sap and fruit creaminess, with acidic, green, sweet, and ‘dense’ notes, less vaporous. In my case, the sweetness is a faint coconut aroma that dialogues with the greenery and freshness, creating a bucolic image better than the advertising: a deep river in a forest of citrus and wild figs.
Haha, adding another clink-clink cash, drakecito, this time from my side. I was looking for something to complement Un Jardin en Mediterranee (ideal for afternoons) and the one from Nil (vibrant, almost a morning Bloody Mary). Ninfeo Mio is delicious, fresh, a tender caress… an opening that makes you move your head and brush aside those leaves wrapping you, so that minutes later you dive into that garden and get covered in fig leaves, so soft, almost creamy (the cream of that leaf nerve), nothing delicate. A scandal, in short. Thanks drakecito for your review, greetings.
They gave it to me as a gift, and I was left speechless, sublime. I agree with the description and its evolution: it evokes a delicious walk through a romantic garden in September with figs in full maturity. I write so cheesily and elegantly due to the effect of the perfume 😀
Writing a review without sounding cheesy is impossible: sublimity, ecstasy, dreams, comfort, elegance, serenity, memories, light. A quality lemon, noisy and fresh, that opens this marvel grandiosely and soon moves to the plane of the fig leaf. The more it evolves, the more I like it: it has dimension, a creamy and resinous touch. I feel it fresh and high-quality at the same time, with a comfortable warmth. I’m at a loss describing it because it’s grandiose and there are no words. Annick Goutal had a purpose: to enclose memories in scents… and she did it so well. 10/10, and for a citrus, it lasts MUCH with a moderate trail. A 10.
Six years without smelling it, and spring brought it back to my mind. I searched reliable online stores thinking they must have reformulated it; the bottle was rectangular, but the great Azurita confirmed that they only changed the packaging. I went to Perfumerías Julia in Barcelona on a 25-degree day with two sprays on my arm… Opening: classic lemon, like those from the market that perfume the whole house when you cut them. Heart phase: in a minute the fig enters, and in seven minutes it dominates everything. It smells like a childhood tree, climbing sturdy branches and scraping knees; like velvet leaves with hairs reaching up to the sky and tasting bitter; like green fruits that leave green, almond-flavored, creamy milk on the hand, like a coconut smoothie. It reminds me of my grandfather’s summers before the fruits ripened. The memories are so vivid that I got emotional. Aside from the waves, it opens realistically and astringently with citrus, then the fig leaf stays, green and elegant, with a low but persistent trail. I notice galbanum more in the heart phase: bitter, musky, green, and sweet. That known sweet mixes with an unknown one (maybe lentiscus?), and there the sweet fig accompanies you for hours. I would never say it’s a citrus; it’s an aromatic green. It’s 1 AM after 7 hours, and the heart phase continues; I’m going to sleep with the fig, with no news of wood yet.
I hadn’t smelled it in six years, and with spring coming, it was on my mind. I checked trusted websites, fearing it had been reformulated; I found a rectangular bottle and thought yes, but I needed to test it. Today I asked on the forum, and the great Azurita (I trust her nose blindly) confirmed it only changed the packaging. I went to Perfumerías Julia in Barcelona on a fresh summer day at 25°C and sprayed two sprays on my inner arm. Opening: classic lemon, those market ones that perfume the house when you cut them. Heart: fig enters in less than a minute and dominates everything in 7 minutes. It smells like the tree: climbing it at age seven, scraping my knees on the bark, touching velvet leaves with hairs that rise to the bitter palate, plucking a green fruit and feeling almond-milk creaminess like a coconut smoothie. It reminds me of my childhood climbing my grandfather’s fig trees before the fruit ripened; the memories are so vivid I got emotional. Aside from being a bit cheesy, it opens so realistically citrusy that it’s astringent, then the fig remains, green and elegant, with a low but persistent trail. I notice galbanum more in the first hours of the heart: bitter, lemony, sweet, green, and sweet. That known sweetness blends with an unknown one (I suppose mastic), and there the sweet fig accompanies you for hours. I’d never say it’s citrusy; it’s green and aromatic. It’s 1 AM, after 7 hours, and the heart phase continues: I’m lying down with the fig and don’t detect any wood.
What a beautiful, fresh, yet sweet fragrance. It feels like a serenity that I adore; it’s not the typical fresh soap scent, this is something more beautiful and luminous. The best part is that it’s truly timeless, not confined to a specific age to wear it, and it’s unisex.
Ninfeo Mio, a beautiful name, has contradictions that I adore: it’s rough and delicate, astringent and sweet, green yet dense, fresh and warm. On my nose, it starts with an explosion of lemons, then the fig leaf takes over. It evolves slowly on my skin; enjoy it without rushing, like a summer siesta in the shade of that tree. Soon that creaminess others mention appears, a milky scent with a slight bitterness, like the milk that oozes when you cut fig shoots or plants, and it stays throughout the development. It has good longevity on my skin. It’s hyper-realistic, organic, cheerful, and has a nuanced luminosity. I love wearing it on cold days like today, when the spring sun stops being just a promise and actually shows up in glimpses. For its quality and concept, it’s a jewel that lifts your soul and predisposes you to happiness.
Ninfeo Mio is one of the most wonderful fragrances I’ve had the pleasure of trying. It borders on excellence in everything one could attribute to a perfume. It would be unfair to analyze it only with typical benchmarks like top notes, dry-down, or performance, because Annick Goutal’s work goes far beyond that. It transports you to the Garden of Eden. Hanging from its trees are huge, juicy lemons with a fresh aroma that welcomes you. Then appears the absolute protagonist: the fig. On one hand, the smell of its leaf, fresh and green but velvety; on the other, the scent of its fleshy fruit, sweet, delicate, creamy, with coconut reminiscences. All of this is caressed by a fine mist that magnifies the described aroma, impregnates the woods, and moistens the earth that gives life to the whole. All notes are perceived clearly with a breathtaking realism. It develops constantly but subtly, without abrupt turns. You can apply it in the morning, smell it in the afternoon, and still feel its memory at night. Ninfeo Mio is a fragrance that will accompany me for the rest of my existence. A perfume without edges, totally unisex and for any age. Evocative like few, charming like none. Note: 10/10.
What I love most about Ninfeo Mio is its pristine beauty. It was always there, a bit forgotten by Goutal, but after trying Fico di Amalfi by AP, I fell in love with Ninfeo. Both have fig notes, but Ninfeo is more continental Mediterranean, far from the coast, as if it were in amazing ruins. It’s a fig with citrus sparkles that give it an open and airy opening and heart, but it clings more to the skin, as if the leaves were sun-warmed yet still holding morning dew, a divine nectar. The resins and woods give it body, fixation, and a woody calyx, more austere and indigenous. It’s a wonderful perfume, anchored in forest dreams and ethereal citrus notes that make you fly. It creates atmospheres and fantasies, with that intimate relationship under the fig tree that makes it magical. The fig leaves elevate everything in a unique way.
Nature in a bottle. This fragrance leaves other ‘fresh’ scents in the dust. The moment I apply it, I smell fresh greens and fruit. A direct hit to the olfactory senses, pure and alive. The first two hours are like being immersed in a garden, then the fig note takes over until the very end. It makes you feel more alive than ever; it’s pure love. Lasts over ten hours, projects beautifully, and its trail seems eternal. 10/10 in every way. A masterpiece.
Like a two-week infatuation: what beauty, what construction, what quality… and what a swift death. Ninfeo is a realistic treasure, divine, a fig so nailed down that if you close your eyes, you instantly plunge into summer. But its sillage is scarce and its duration is ridiculous for the price; on skin, it distorts quickly and dies before you can say ‘potato.’ That said, the time it lasts is a dream, pure beauty, a green canvas; it smells like trunk, leaves, branches, and the fruit with amazing materiality, what abundance, what finesse. Pure sun, siesta, Italy or Greece perhaps, vacations, money in your pockets, and lots of free time. That’s what Ninfeo evokes. A nine that would be a ten if it lasted longer.
A true citrus and green delight. I’ve been in love with this perfume from the first day until today. It’s one of those that when you apply it, you immediately feel good, fresh, and in a great mood. Definitely for warm climates and for daytime. On my skin, it lasts about 7 hours, with limited projection in the first hour or so. The truth is, it doesn’t matter to me if others perceive it or not; the enjoyment is mine.
Ninfeo Mio is a fragrance inspired by the gardens of Ninfa, a tourist landscape in central Italy. It has been described very assertively regarding both the aroma and the performance; it’s easy to conclude that Ninfeo Mio is one of those fragrances where everything has already been said, but if it’s possible to extract certain appreciations. To start, Ninfeo Mio is a beautiful fragrance, as atmospheric as it is photorealistic; it evokes with absolute loyalty the scent of fresh, living, and damp herbs freshly cut alongside lemon extracts (it reminds you of wet grass in the mornings). Ninfeo is as citrusy as it is green, it handles an aquatic ‘aura’ very well, it’s charismatic, energetic, and sparkling (literally). The fragrance seems to develop horizontally; in my experience, the notes over time are essentially the same (if it were vertical, it would be very static). I’d conclude that Ninfeo combines green/aquatic/citrus accords with the success that other fragrances fail to achieve (like Chanel N°19, Chance Eau Fraiche, and Light Blue). However, it’s notable what can be criticized. From the name to the concept, they are beautiful; some report sweat stains, personally I haven’t found such a similarity, but I understand where it comes from. The most denounceable thing is its performance: the duration and sillage are decidedly poor (perhaps moderate at best, and only on a very favorable day). Add to that the high price and the difficulty in finding it outside Europe. I don’t know if it has been reformulated; I don’t rule it out since the brand has undergone redesigns. The scent is undeniably beautiful, but I recommend testing it on skin before rushing to buy it.
This is a very beautiful perfume; lemon and fig leaves are the most prominent notes. It’s such a realistic lemon scent that if you want an idea, take a port lemon and smell it—it’s no more and no less. The fig leaves remind me of the forest after it stops raining, the smell of wet grass. It’s a unique fragrance.
I was gifted a sample and just sprayed it on a cardstock. Love at first sight! I love it. It’s a wonderful green scent. The first moments reminded me a bit of Estee Lauder’s Private Collection, but then it took a different turn. I love that sensation of green pulp, fresh stalk juice—something like eating a handful of fresh parsley but much less ‘dark green.’ I can’t stop smelling it. I don’t care about the duration or projection; this definitely goes on my list of passions. After a while, the watery juiciness fades and a more powdery accord appears, yet still intensely green. There’s a dry-down moment that reminds me of the smell rising when cleaning cat litter; that light powder when you stir it up, carrying the scent of pee mixed with diatomaceous earth. It’s not a bad smell (somewhat acidic and lemony, an effect of amino acids like feline and cysteine-S-isopentanol; it doesn’t smell like ammonia), it’s just very strong and repulsive when cleaning the cat box, but in Ninfeo Mio, I find it moderate and pleasant, adding to the powdery, dry sensation. As hours pass, it softens a lot and leaves a woody base with green sparkles and barely floral notes. Today I had to pot a giant bush that covers the car gate; while bagging the leaves, a little scent rose up that reminded me of this glorious Ninfeo and made me smile. I have the EDT. Postscript to Yadorán d’Vinea: judging Chanel 19 in the same category as Ninfeo Mio doesn’t seem appropriate to me; they belong to different fragrance families. Chanel 19 doesn’t manage to harmonize green/aquatic/citrus; it doesn’t seek that harmony; it’s a green leather floral. Smelling it expecting to find green/aquatic/citrus doesn’t yield good results.
Second fragrance by Annick Goutal, and I must say I didn’t like it. Nevertheless, I’ll describe the perfume. The opening is a strong citrus aroma that floods everything, with Amalfi lemon prevailing except for the cider, which gives a pleasant combination. After that, I don’t feel the fig leaf as others say, nor woody notes; all I’m left with is a powdery smell. The projection is moderate, five hours, then right up against the skin, leaving only that powdery note that I don’t like. The packaging is excellent, typical niche style, and the atomizer is the best I’ve used, plus the bottle is very pretty. For use, spring would be the convenient season and daytime. It leaves a sour-sweet aftertaste; I had high expectations but it ended up amounting to nothing.
Second fragrance from Annick Goutal, and I must say I didn’t like it. Nevertheless, let me describe it. The opening is a strong citrus scent that floods everything, with Amalfi lemon prevailing over the others, except for the cider which gives a pleasant combination. Afterwards, I don’t feel the fig leaf as others mention, nor any woody notes; I’m left with just a powdery smell. The projection is moderate, about five hours, then it fades to the skin, leaving only that powdery note which I don’t like. The packaging is excellent, as is typical for niche, and the atomizer is the best I’ve used; the bottle is very pretty. For usage, spring would be the appropriate season, and it’s best for daytime. It leaves a sweet-and-sour impression; I had high expectations and it ended up amounting to nothing.
Good quality and more intense than I expected. The fig leaf is super natural; the base is wood, but I think it’s more of a fixative than anything else because it’s barely noticeable. It’s a particular fragrance; I don’t recommend buying it blindly. When you first put it on, it smells like light, almost magical citrus fig, but after two or three hours, it smells intensely of pure fig leaf. Who wants to smell like a fig leaf? I like it because it’s an emotional thing for me; it reminds me of a field with that tree, and the naturalness is surprising. I doubt I’d wear it out, but it’s worth having a few ml. Low projection, lasts about 7 hours. Update: on the new cylindrical bottle, the duration drops to about 3 hours.
Ninfeo Mio is simply citrusy and green. It starts with bitter, acidic citrus wrapped in a rough, very realistic green accord. It smells like you’re stepping into a grove of fig trees. It’s linear, but with a spectacular scent that loses intensity very quickly, with no variations except a subtle talc-like dry-down. That’s it. I’m not sure if it’s been reformulated, just like the ugly bottles before, because it neither lasts nor projects. In my case, it’s close to the skin within an hour. As a fragrance, it’s a 10, but its performance is a disaster. For me, Fico di Amalfi remains the absolute monarch: the best fig-leaf fragrance I know. Try Ninfeo before buying, but not because of its scent—which is wonderful—but because of its terrible performance.
Thanks, Carcar. I always love your reviews because we mostly agree. This perfume is so hard to describe due to its complexity, but it’s one of my favorites. That fig leaf reminds me of my childhood, and I love the freshness of its citrus notes. It’s mysterious; I’m in love with it.
What a gorgeous fragrance, but it doesn’t really invite me out. It’s a subtle experience, without any harshness or weird magic. It opens bright and citrusy with a bitter, very green twist—like that fig leaf evolving in its fullness. It’s woody and creamy, very evocative; you can feel it, but I see it more for walking around the house or those days when you just want to relax. I don’t get it as a purchase; 100 ml seems like a rip-off to me. A well-done decant. It looks a bit feminine, but for me, it’s totally unisex. It performs well—no projection, but it lasts close to the skin. On clothes, it lasts forever.