Men
Parfum de Peau
Acordes principales
Descripción
Montana's Parfum de Peau is a leather fragrance for women. Launched in 1986, the nose behind this composition is Edouard Fléchier. The top notes include calendula, pepper, black currant, blackberry, ginger, and orange blossom; the heart notes are formed by patchouli, rose, narcissus, and jasmine; while the base notes reveal leather, incense, amber, and musk.
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 Parfum de Peau 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.
39 reseñas
Mostrando las más recientes primero.
Category:
An 80s scent characterized by architectural patterns or aggressive shapes, similar to Thierry Mugler, based on leather and vivid colors. Initially, the notes are quite floral with a sweet fruity touch, featuring traditional flowers like rose and jasmine, plus a tuberose base that adds body and similarity to Balenciaga’s Rumba. In the heart, it loses the fruity tone (perhaps a neutral fruit like peach or apricot) in favor of a soapy floral sensation of roses. The jasmine disappears, and the aroma concentrates on a dense traditional rose with tuberose. As it saturates, the flowers fade, revealing sweet dark fruits (less aromatic blackcurrants than blackberry or plum) and spicy notes over wood. After resting and sniffing coffee to cut through the saturation, it returns to soapy rose and tuberose tones. In the dry down, fruit comes back above the flowers with a dusty blackcurrant nuance and the disappearance of tuberose. It presents chypre characteristics with woody and spicy notes at the end (soft cedar leaning toward leather and earth). It follows the 80s intense floral chypre style like Animale and Rumba. It has sophistication with the advantage that the sweet fruity note doesn’t make it exclusive to night or winter, giving it freshness for summer and daily wear. It has a bold personality for the office without being annoying but noticeable. At night, it has presence but is classic: not flashy or avant-garde for galas, but integrated into the night, perfect for happy hours and gatherings. It has a romantic yet nostalgic note… like a floral that projects the image of a confident woman.
I bought it recently just for a whim since I saw it on sale. It smells amazing in the bottle and has great presence, but once worn, it’s unbearable. It has a personality that easily overpowers yours. It feels like mosquito repellent. I regret it. Luckily, I paid a low price.
I bought it recently on a whim because I saw it on sale. In the bottle, it’s rich and present, but once worn, it’s unbearable. It has a personality that, in a careless moment, eats yours up. It feels like mosquito repellent. I regretted it. Luckily, I paid a cheap price.
Hi Ana Verónica, could you tell me where you got this and where you’re from? It’s my sister’s favorite perfume and I’d love to gift it to her.
This isn’t a perfume for today. I loved it in the 80s and adored it with passion. But now tastes have changed, sensitivity is different, and so is the climate. We change according to circumstances and the life we’ve lived, even in our scents. Some that once drove you crazy now give you a headache and nausea. I don’t doubt it’s a good scent, but not one to wear unless you’re trying to scare people off!
This is not a perfume for this era. I loved it in the 80s. I loved it with passion. But today tastes are different, people’s sensitivity is different, the climate is different… In short: I think one changes according to circumstances and the life they are given to live. Also in the realm of aromas. Some that once drove you crazy, today you can’t stand and they cause you headaches and even nausea. I don’t doubt it’s a good scent, but not one to wear, unless you intend to scare people away!
I met two women who used it. I never forget them. I don’t remember their names or faces, but the scent is imprinted on me until today. Strong, heavy, baroque, artificial… I smell patchouli and pepper with some amber and lots of incense. I didn’t register the neroli or the rose, nor the leather. I think it has the style of Paloma Picasso: it’s 80s, psychedelic, loud, anachronistic… It doesn’t seem feminine or elegant to me. I have the idea that whoever buys it thinks, ‘I’ll spend money… so let them feel it!’ There are fragrances that transcend time (the classics), and others (like this one) that are born of the moment and stay there.
I met two women who wore this and never forgot them. I can’t recall their names or faces, but the scent is still etched in my memory today. It’s heavy, baroque, and artificial… I detect patchouli, pepper, a touch of amber, and lots of incense. I don’t smell the orange blossom, rose, or leather. It feels like a Paloma Picasso style: 80s, psychedelic, loud, and anachronistic. It doesn’t strike me as feminine or elegant. My guess is that whoever buys it thinks they’re spending money… so they might as well feel it. Some fragrances transcend time, while others like this one are born of their era and stay there.
Bofifa and Spartacus… but you guys write so well… (I was about to swear). I love your reviews.
Sensual, angular, baroque, and assertive, this fragrance draws the main lines of 80s perfume: a child of its time but charismatic, invasive, and pleasant, like mirrors facing each other in a sea of contradictions. The woman who would wear it today would be cultured, a reader of 19th-century penny dreadfuls, a writer of hidden verses, a consumer of classic cinema, refined, very feminine, a smoker, and a passionate lover of red wine. Could a man wear it? Yes, a geek like me who wears it occasionally because it’s hardly enjoyable for daily life. The opening is openly feminine with white flowers and berries, but there are so many overlapping notes, with special prominence given to sweet leather, very dirty musk, and swampy, earthy patchouli like a Delta blues at a formal party. The cloud is dense, almost toxic, sharp as a knife, and unbearable if you’re not used to it; if you’re a style lover, you won’t believe it. The projection is radioactive and the longevity is eternal. There are two ways to see it: as a caricature of American Psycho or as the melodic accent of a beautiful decade. Note: 10/10.
What a cool review of Bofifa. Another one who has already been scented with Parfum de Peau in the past and present. I remember being very small and using it in secret, without anyone knowing how much I loved a women’s fragrance… In my innocence (I was about ten or eleven, the same age I used to swipe touches of La Nuit de Rabanne from a friend’s mother), I just knew I enjoyed it wildly, drunk on it and unable to stop thinking, ‘damn, this is a man’s perfume’… Later I understood that there are perfumes like Parfum de Peau, Aromatics Elixir, La Nuit de Rabanne, Cabochard (another leather) that have no gender at all, formulas of a narcotic, atavistic gravity, animalistic and seared.
What a beautiful review, Bofifa. Another one who got scented with Parfum de Peau in the past and present. I remember being very young and wearing it secretly, no one knowing how much I loved a women’s fragrance. In my innocence, at ten or eleven, when I stole sprays of La Nuit de Rabanne from a friend’s mother, I only knew I enjoyed it wildly, drunk on the scent, thinking, ‘This is a man’s perfume.’ Later, I understood that there are fragrances like Parfum de Peau, Aromatics Elixir, La Nuit de Rabanne, and Cabochard that have no gender—formulas of atavistic, narcotic, animalic, and scorched gravity.
Get Intoxicated, because this is pure 80s narcosis. Parfum de Peau has that classic floral-chypre structure from the era but twists it with ginger, pepper, and musk—a brilliantly executed madness. The ginger is very noticeable in the heart, followed by rose, then leather, and that musk which starts very strong before calming down. The fruits and amber make it warm and juicy. I know it’s leather, but the note is so transformed by the rest that it’s a very special leather scent. This review is for an EDT from 10 years ago; I haven’t tried the vintage. It was one of my first encounters with 80s fragrances; I couldn’t stop smelling it and found it incredibly interesting and narcotic. Of course, it’s not easy to wear daily—it’s for a rebellious night and requires leather attire.
The 80s were an era of perfumery excesses: techno, punk, leather, and ripped jeans. They gave birth to olfactory beasts full of power so you could smell stronger and look better. Parfum de Peau is one of those 80s beasts: a floral leather with lots of calendula, rose, and animalic jasmine. The jasmine has a spiced, smoky counterpoint from a potent incense accompanying it. The evolution is classic, deep, rich, and opulent, with a color palette superior to anything else. It reminds me of Piguet’s Bandit or Balenciaga’s Rumba, but it’s less astringent and camphoraceous. I feel nostalgia, longing, and sadness wrapped in the aroma, giving me a pleasant sense of well-being. It’s outdated and retro, yet powerful, exquisite, and extraordinarily strong. Absolutely sensational. Rating: 9.3.
Oh my, what a Montana, a house I didn’t know that is giving me pleasant and suggestive surprises that I owe to the generosity of my friend Bofifa. So far, I’m encountering a very spicy entry of sweet, ripe winter fruits; blackcurrants and plums dance on my nose, playing with ginger and pepper that tickle and amuse me. Soon things turn serious, and an exquisite, intriguing red rose, still with spicy hints, joins a bursting carnation (calendula) and a powdery narcissus—nothing sweet or cloying. They darken it until it turns burgundy and gold, as that pasodoble and olé once said. Incense and patchouli make it smoky, earthy, and mature. It’s not an innocent, youthful rose in my hands. This rose is full of experience, wisdom, and tantric sensuality. A note of warm amber wisely combined with animal notes of a dirty musk and a very soft suede gives it a character of trembling, vibrant velvet. A floral armor softly talc-dusted. Fascinating and lascivious. A woman’s scent that she applies for herself but drives a man crazy without even trying. Abstain if you have virgin, milky skin trying to hide. A rich, dense aroma. Very French, brave, and rebellious; this woman doesn’t hide her sensuality or waste time on nonsense. Voluptuous and very persistent. For autumn and winter. For starry nights and satin sheets. Unisex due to the darkness of its flowers. A magnificent classic with the power of the 80s. Although it’s for every woman, if I could choose the skin for this perfume, it wouldn’t be the pale, decorous skin of a young, sweet, innocent girl. It’s the skin of a brunette woman who lets herself be caressed entirely by the sun. There are no brand marks on her body. I imagine the sculptural 80s model Grace Jones. Androgynous Studio 54 star, she dabbled as a disco singer and actress, a Bond girl, she thrashed Schwarzenegger in Conan the Destroyer. Back then she did nude photography (I can’t thank my friends enough for the nagging I gave them, though they signed up for a bombardment), and I was fascinated by her skin. I won’t say I don’t like her aggressive poses; I don’t find aggression sensual, but she had perfect skin. Brunette with golden reflections, I imagine her in a backless nude, sitting in front of my Olympus OM-10, with a view from her shaved head down to her glutes. And a drop of this perfume on her nape, slowly tracing every muscle, every erect pore of her skin, sliding down her spine until it disappears in her coccyx. With the sensuality and elegance of a toned, muscular black panther. Her bottle doesn’t match the aroma inside. On one hand, it looks like the helical drawing of DNA. From the front, it forms the figure of a woman with angular shapes, like Jones, and from the side, it looks like a pregnant woman, a contemporary interpretation of those Paleolithic Venus figures that worshipped fertility. Pure fascination in a bottle…
I totally agree with the two previous reviews. Friends of mine wore this Montana fragrance in the 80s and 90s, and it always seemed like a big perfum. It’s a very dry, smoky chypre-leather with a rich, personal spicy rose and pepper. It has a distinctive, incisive, and biting touch, so it’s not easy to wear. Very nocturnal, it suits biker women, jeans, and leather jackets, with an air of rebellion and determination. A perfume for pubs and discos to seduce, with a cigarette in hand, taking the initiative. Besides, it survives today with a very loyal clientele. Whoever wears it rarely leaves it. A masterpiece by Montana.
Wow, these Montanas. A house I didn’t know, and it’s giving me pleasant surprises thanks to Bofifa’s generosity. So far, I find a very spicy entry of sweet, ripe winter fruits: gooseberries and plums dance on my nose with ginger and pepper that tickle me. Soon things get serious: an intriguing deep red rose, still with spicy hints, joined by a burst carnation (calendula) and a dusty narcissus, nothing sweet. They darken it until it turns garnet and gold, as that pasodoble says. Incense and patchouli make it smoky, earthy, and mature. It’s not an innocent rose, but one full of experience, wisdom, and tantric sensuality. A note of warm amber combined with animal notes of a dirty musk and soft suede gives it a trembling, vibrant velvet character. A softly talc-dusted floral. Fascinating and lascivious. A woman’s scent that she wears for herself but drives a man crazy without trying. Abstain if you have a virgin skin. A rich and dense aroma. Very French, brave, and rebellious; this woman doesn’t hide her sensuality or waste time. Voluptuous and very persistent. For autumn and winter, starry nights, and satin sheets. Unisex due to the darkness of its flowers. A superb classic with the power of the 80s. Although it’s for every woman, if I could choose the skin for this perfume, it wouldn’t be the pale skin of a young girl, but that of a tanned woman caressed by the sun. No white-label brands. I imagine Grace Jones, sculptural, androgynous, a Studio 54 star who thrashed Schwarzenegger in Conan the Destroyer as she pleased. Back then she did nude photos and was fascinated by her skin. I don’t like her aggressive poses, but she had perfect skin. Tanned with golden reflections, I imagine her in a back nude, sitting in front of my Olympus OM-10, from her shaved head to her glutes. And a drop of this perfume on her nape that traces every muscle and erect pore of her skin, sliding down her spine until disappearing in her coccyx. With the sensuality and elegance of a toned black panther. Her bottle doesn’t match the scent: it looks like the helical drawing of DNA. From the front, it forms a woman with angular shapes, like Jones, and from the side, a pregnant woman, a contemporary interpretation of paleolithic Venuses. Pure fascination in a bottle…
CLAUDE MONTANA, the king of epaulets, son of a Spanish father and a German mother. His tough upbringing was evident in his black leather designs and Gilette-style cuts, models that looked like punk, techno, and house sculptures. He forced his models not to smile and to walk with a martial step. He was the first to turn his shows into a spectacle, surrounded by his court of miracles dressed in black leather, who accompanied him to chaotic Parisian clubs like Le Palace and Les Bains Douches in the 80s and 90s. Alongside Mugler and Gaultier, he formed the triumvirate of Parisian fashion in the 80s. He married his muse, Wallis Franken, in 1993 just to spite fate, but then came the downfall with drugs and alcohol, which ended with her suicide and the bankruptcy of his house. PARFUM DE PEAU was his first fragrance and the most faithful to the 80s essence. I’d place it in the Chypre Leather Floral family. Its opening is an aldehydic explosion; although they aren’t listed, they are the framework of the fragrance just like the epaulets framed his jackets. They have so much force that they’re noticeable all the time. Then it moves to a phase I don’t know if is floral-leather or leather-floral, where flowers have leather petals and leather has floral dyes. I distinguish carnation, cloves (not declared), narcissus, and rose, nothing sweet, very animal. These aren’t the floral effluvia that make me sick, but benzoic and turpentine-like flowers of power and rotundity that only go with a high-heeled walk. Its base is musky leather with residues of those contundent flowers. It’s like LAUDER’s YOUTH DEW and OPIUM 1977. I can’t find better references. I’d just love to be one of those big perfumers! PARFUM DE PEAU is a synthetic fragrance; its aroma doesn’t exist in nature, and that artificiality is its secret beauty.
I bought it because of my cousin’s bride’s scent; on her skin, it left an interesting, sweet, aromatic, and slightly spicy trail, like turmeric. It was very present, intoxicating, and seductive. When I bought it, I noticed it was stronger than I remembered and lacked that spice. One day I mixed it with Flor de Laranjeira by Natura (for the orange blossom), and it turned out beautiful: more floral, with a creamy, soft base. But with autumn, the spicy notes returned, which mesmerize me. I didn’t realize heat transformed it so much. Now it smells drier, the opening less saturated (I didn’t like the vegetal calendula much before). What I love are leather, incense, narcissus, and rose. I love it more in the cold; it becomes earthy, and its particularities stand out.
I didn’t know it until I saw it in a perfumery with discontinued stock. Even though it’s an EDT, it outperforms many EDPs in projection and longevity. It’s a bitter, spicy-floral, vintage, and powerful scent, totally 80s. It reminds me of Estee Lauder’s Knowing. It’s a gem with the quality and longevity of 80s/90s perfumes. Everyone smells it as they pass. If you find it and like intense, heady scents, try it; it’s incredible and wonderful.
A year and a half later, with more experience, I say it’s one of my favorites. I love it in all seasons, depending on how you apply it… It’s unique. People compliment me even hours after wearing it. We have great chemistry. I regret to say I barely used 15 ml; it’s incredibly long-lasting.
An 80s wonder, only for exquisite scents. It’s not for someone vulgar, but for a cultivated soul with charisma and class. It’s narcotic, sexual, and overwhelming, with impressive longevity and sillage. Thank God it’s still available; wearing it makes you forget the vulgarity of current perfumes. A masterpiece.
An 80s wonder, worthy only for exquisite noses. This fragrance cannot be worn by an ordinary or vulgar woman (or man); it must be carried by a cultivated soul, by a person with charisma, class, and style. Narcotic, sexual, overwhelming, with impressive longevity and sillage. Thank God it’s still available, and wearing it makes us forget the vulgarity of the times (and fragrances) we live in now. Masterpiece.
It has a lot of personality; it’s for women of character. Not everyone can pull it off. It’s intense, long-lasting, and stylish. Sophisticated yet unpredictable. I wore it in summer and found it fresh, like chili pepper with a floral-citrus twist. I’d use it again anytime, but I haven’t seen it in stores in a long time. One of my favorites.
Montana Parfum de Peau is my go-to fragrance. I’ve been collecting bottles since 1989, and I can’t even count them. It was love at first sight. Even though I have other favorites, when I don’t know what to wear, it’s always this one. I find it, but not in every perfumery. Although it shines more in winter, I wear it all year round. To me, it’s a masterpiece.
It’s the signature of an aunt I admire: beautiful, independent, and owning a closet that could make you faint. I’ve only heard her wear it; it’s her stamp. Maybe I wouldn’t like it if it weren’t for her. It’s not for the shy; it screams woman of action who isn’t afraid to be the center of attention. Lasting power and sillage are insane, more 80s than Xuxa. A wild beauty at a ridiculous price, a work of art as Belvedere says.
It was the fragrance of one of my aunts since I can remember. She is someone I admire: a beautiful, coquettish woman of exquisite taste who chose not to be a mother, has never depended on anyone economically, and owns a closet so huge it’s dizzying. She is the only person I’ve smelled this fragrance on; for me, it’s her signature, and I wonder if I would like Parfum de Peau if it weren’t for her. Not for shy people, this fragrance announces a woman who takes charge, who isn’t easily overwhelmed, and who isn’t afraid to be the center of attention. With spectacular longevity and sillage, and even more 80s than Xuxa, Parfum de Peau is a wild beauty that I fear will be discontinued soon, as it’s available at an absurdly low price. As Belvedere comments, a work of art.
I’m rewriting my review because the first one didn’t do it justice. Parfum de Peau is a beautiful and characterful 80s perfume. It’s an amber dream, with incense (which gives it a slightly smoky touch), ginger (which adds a spicy note), rather mature fruity notes, and leather, though somewhat tamed by the other notes. NO, it’s not a perfume to buy blindly.
I just bought it. It’s an atomic bomb, very hard to tolerate on warm days. Longevity over 15 hours at pure incense, musk, and its voluptuous flowers: narcissus, rose, and jasmine… Its potency is overwhelming. A minimum spray is already enough. I like it, but it’s too powerful for my nose.
I used it in the 90s, a perfume with character and presence. Its opening is spicy due to the pepper, very spiced. It’s a strong fragrance, not one to spray much, lasts hours. On my skin it smells like patchouli with incense. I didn’t buy it again, the bottle is beautiful.
I bought it based on a review by Silvia Perfumes looking for a vintage, classic, and ambered perfume. For me, it opens similar to Clinique’s Aromatics Elixir, then becomes animal, mysterious, and mystical with that incense, amber, and patchouli. It’s earthy and elegant; the narcissus suits it. While it resembles others, without a doubt it’s more elegant and standout, it’s a gem. 10/10 longevity for an EDT, beastly trail.
Flashback perfume. It takes me back to the 90s. My French cousin, Nancy (the most naturally sophisticated woman I know -if the oxymoron is accepted-), would announce her arrival by filling the house stairs with Parfum de Peau. Some smell it like boiled potatoes, others purely like incense. I fully agree with everything read: opulent, mysterious, if you don’t follow the game, it will eat you alive. I couldn’t help myself when I saw it alone on the lowest shelf of a mall perfumery. Being a man, I applied it with great pleasure and full conviction.
Today, after waiting just a little, my 100ml full bottle arrived, the first formula, from when it wasn’t yet called ‘Parfum de Peau’ (a press term since 1992) but ‘Eau de Toilette’. 81% alcohol. Distributed in the USA by Montana Parfums Inc, before ‘Montana’ became an independent brand. It’s from 1986. My first encounter was with the current version in a perfumery: black musk everywhere, a leather chypre to the max. Strong and potent, one of those that burns your nose hairs, and even to us, lovers of ‘sticky’ or personality-driven perfumes, it seems like a total excess (along the lines of Clinique’s Aromatics Elixir). I loved it. I took my time searching for an original bottle because they’re all expensive. To my surprise, I found mine for a steal and didn’t hesitate. Today it arrived, I took off the cap, and when my nose caught it, it seemed like being in the presence of someone warm and sweet, nothing like that wild musk. A cultured person without condescension, radiating innate sweetness. The true skin perfume: pleasant and delicious, with ambered spices but not cloying, leaning towards androgynous vanilla leather. Nothing invasive. Hypnotic and sophisticated. Montana was looking for something different from the popular perfumes of the time, like Poison or Opium. Scent bombs that exploded and covered up the smell of tobacco. Montana from 1986 is a ‘your skin but better’, with incomparable androgynous beauty. Ambered and spiced musk with a base of flowers and dark honey. Worthy of taking it on a date, wearing extravagant clothes with shoulder pads and ready to seduce the Trump Tower executive who buys you a penthouse in the most expensive area of NY and gifts you a walk-in closet of furs.
Today, after a short wait, a 100 ml bottle totally full of the first formulation of this perfume arrived in my hands, from when it wasn’t yet called ‘Parfum de Peau’ (a term coined starting in 1992 in the press) but ‘Eau de Toilette’. 81% alcohol content. Distributed in the USA by Montana Parfums Inc., before ‘Montana’ was registered as an independent perfume brand. A bottle from 1986. I must say my first encounter with this perfume was with the current version in a perfumery. Black musk everywhere, a proper leather chypre. Strong and potent, those that burn the hairs on your nose, and even to us, lovers of ‘stinky’ perfumes or, as I call them, perfumes with personality, it seems like a total excess (along the line of Clinique’s Aromatics Elixir). I loved it. It took me a while to decide to search for a bottle with the original formulation since they were all at prohibitive prices. To my surprise, I found mine for a real bargain and didn’t hesitate twice to buy it. Today it arrived; I took off the cap, and when my nose caught it, I felt like I was in the presence of a warm and sweet person, nothing like that wild and extravagant musk. A cultured person and in no way condescending, emanating an innate sweetness. The true skin perfume (Parfum de Peau), a pleasant and delicious skin, with ambered spices but not cloying, leaning towards that androgynous vanilla-leather scent. Nothing invasive. Hypnotic, sophisticated. My inquiry was soon corroborated; Montana sought to create a perfume totally different from the popular perfumes of the time, such as Poison or Opium. Scent bombs that exploded in the air and overpowered the sour, penetrating smell of tobacco. Montana from 1986 is a ‘your skin but better,’ of incomparable androgynous beauty. Ambered musk and spiced with a base of flowers and dark honey. A perfume worthy of being worn on a date, wearing your extravagant clothes with exaggerated shoulders, ready to seduce the businessman working in the Trump Tower, who buys you a penthouse in the most expensive and glamorous area of New York and gifts you a complete wardrobe of exquisite fur coats.
It was the first imported perfume I ever bought. I only wear it in winter. Almost thirty years later, I still like it, though I admit it’s no longer my favorite. I don’t know if it’s due to the reformulation or because my tastes have changed. However, it’s a perfume I need to own to feel it again.
Please, let someone confirm that it has been hyper-reformulated, because I don’t detect the wood note or the wonderful aroma, only powdery and heavy, insistent musk, not powerful or with personality, so either they ruined it or my taste is opposite to everyone else’s. I’ve tried it twice and it doesn’t match at all. I’m about to cancel my order for Animal in case it’s similar 🥺
Please, someone confirm to me that they’ve reformulated it completely, because I don’t detect any wood or that wonderful aroma, just powder and musk, heavy and persistent without being potent or having personality. Either they’ve messed it up or my taste is the opposite of everyone else’s. I’ve tried it twice and there isn’t a single millimeter of coincidence. I almost canceled my Animalé order in case it’s similar 🥺
@Adabarcelona, I’m telling you it’s been reformulated to the max. I used it for years and loved it; it was my signature until it disappeared around 2004/2005 and reappeared, I believe in 2009, already reformulated. I don’t use it anymore and don’t recommend it; it has notes that don’t fit, and worst of all, the blackberry is gone. For those of us who love chypres, synthetic oakmoss has ruined these classics.
Total work of art, both the bottle and the liquid. Nowadays, I think many people don’t know how to appreciate scents that don’t smell like caramel. This one smells different and far removed from everything being made today.