Anais Anais L’Original Eau de Toilette

"Anais Anais" in its latest edition of L'Original surprised me with a very soapy start, chemical and aggressive. I was honestly taken aback as I did not remember the scent to be like this (my mother used to have it in the 90s and I remember it being one of my favourite of hers). So, I made at least 10 sprays into the window and let the bottle sit on my table for a few days. Then, I gave it another try. Soapiness is still there, but now with the green and raspy notes, like freshly cut stems. There is a shadow of hyacinth lingering behind the green, together with the sweetness of the honeysuckle. In all honesty, honeysuckle is more accurate and believable of the two. Moss and vetiver pierce through the composition almost from the start, and appear to be locked in a tug of war with the florals. Rose and ylang-ylang do the "heavy lifting" providing heart's sweet and powdery note. LOTV (lily-of-the-valley) is somewhat muddled by hyacinth, but can still be discerned with some effort. Lily's note is definitely a synthetic one, not bad, but obvious. The fragrance softens through its heart and becomes more sweet and powdery, with the raspy green moss and vetiver subdued but still present. Musky sandalwood is nicely executed and adds a needed fluidity and softness to the composition. Conflict between notes is settled and "Anais Anais" becomes what it should have been from the start, - a cosy, powdery floral, with romantic and nostalgic feel. I tend to associate the perfume with Francoise-Athenais de Montespan a famous favourite of the Sun King - Louis XIV, who embodied and encapsulated beauty, elegance and wit with cold-blooded strategy and merciless ambitions. All in all "Anais Anais" is still a favourite of mine, loved for its floral cloud-like scent, even with the few hiccups in the blending and recreation of the notes (which I confidently lay at the L'Oreal's door, - not the first time that they messed up a beautiful creation in pursuit of "financial efficiency", or to be blunt - trying to get away with making it on the cheap), and am certain to keep it on my dressing table for many more years to come. After all, a perfume with character, even a self-contradictory one, is much better than the one without.

Anaïs Anaïs is a scent I associate with my mom. Chanel No. 5 is her signature these days, but she wore Anaïs Anaïs a lot when she was younger as a summer fragrance. Apparently, it was the first gift my dad bought for her, so for sentimental reasons as well as appreciation for the perfume itself, she loves AA. As do I. An ubiquitous girly scent of the eighties, AA is a floral classic. Sweet, angelic and clean-cut, it is the kind of thing that a naive, innocent young girl (with excellent taste) would likely gravitate to. This is the reformulation, sparser than the original, but the DNA of the original is very much present, according to my scent memory. Dad bought this version as a gift for Mom a couple of years ago "for old time's sakes". AA opens with a heady hyacinth note, joined by sweet, polleny honeysuckle. Uplifting and realistic, these notes remind me of my grandparents' house in the countryside, where both flowers featured. This opening develops into a rich, lush white floral accord, sweet and very feminine. Lily and jasmine stand out, and there are hints of lily-of-the-valley too. The white floral accord is balanced perfectly by fresh, damp green notes in the background, reminiscent of a good quality bouquet, or a garden blooming in May. It conjures up the image of forest nymphs/fairies for me. A slightly aquatic note creeps in as it develops, adding some light, airy freshness. The florals become powdery, and any dampness initially present dries completely. As it dries down, soft woody and mossy notes creep in, giving some balance and definition to the florals. This chypre-esque base gives AA an elegant, vintage-style finish instead of sweetening the base to within an inch of its life with vanilla. It dries down to a powdery skin scent with some clean musk. Sillage and longevity are moderate. A floral, feminine classic, AA is a thing of beauty. Evokes personal memories while also being a great scent that stands the test of time. Gorgeous bottle too. 4/5.

Anaïs Anaïs starts off with a cloud of notes that I found hard to determine. They smelt of white flowers, but also spicy - not as in chili powder or pepper but as in cumin. I cannot remember ever having smelt a real hyacinth or honeysuckle, so this might be a note in one of them, but I would not know. All I can say is that I found it pleasant, yet unexpected. What followed - on my skin it was about 15 minutes in - were the creamiest floral aldehydes. They smelt sophisticated but approachable and reminded me of the fragrance Dove bodywashes used to have before the experience was marred by this slight citric undercurrent I find they carry now. At this point, Anaïs Anaïs reminded me of impeccably white satin sheets fleeting in the breeze, faintly holding memories of the 1980s and 1990s. I am ashamed to admit, but since this is an anonymous platform I will: The fragrance made me feel so pretty. I felt like a well-groomed, dreamy girl carefully dressing for her first date, reminding herself of being classy, not daring. Around one hour after application the fragrance changed insofar as single components became more distinguishable. On my skin, it was lily of the valley and white lilies that became the most prominent while I could not detect rose at all. This is where the Anaïs Anaïs remained for hours and hours. After a shower I took between hours 5 and 6, the scent was still well detectable, although the focus now had shifted to a combination of musk and sandalwood. It was not until around hour 10 that this wonderful fragrance had finally disappeared. I do not doubt it could have lasted longer, had I resisted the urge for body hygiene. And I remind you - we are talking about the EdT here! To me, Anaïs Anaïs is an absolute recommendation. It leans feminine, but more so by association then by components. As a man, dare to try it if you ever enjoyed the classic Dove fragrance. Just be aware that Anaïs Anaïs might make you feel pretty too...

They dont make realistic spring florals like this anymore... everything just has to be aquatic or fresh or clean or fruity or sweet. This.. this is what Mother Earth gave us to enjoy on the first warm days of the year. When the trees start blossoming and the birds start chirping. Such beautiful realistic florals without any compromise made to any of them, no cleaned up white florals, no artificial aquatic freshness, just pure heady beauty. This has always been my moms signature scent , but that does not affect my opinions on it. Of course i do simply enjoy it and i do think its nice and nostalgic, but that doesnt do this perfume justice. It is objectively very similar to the actual flowers listed in the notes. I can smell actual hyacinths, actual honeysuckle (very rare to find realistic honeysuckle in perfumes!), actual lilies (also quite rare imo, none of them come this close) and a semblance of a classical rose jasmine soap. LOTV adds a greenness but doesnt obstruct anything or change the perfume into toilet spray. The rose and jasmine arent necessarily detectable, i think the jasmine may enhance the indolic aspects of hyacinths and lilies and honeysuckle, while rose gives something lush and dewy and Alive. The drydown has a noticeable moss accord, one that does not go musty danky patchouli but actual old time chypre (albeit weaker). On the other hand, if you dont value photorealism and dont know what these flowers smell like irl, i think one would just experience this as a soapy scent. Not soapy in a chanel manner, more like an actual french floral soap from provence. People call this ‘grandma’ which i find ageist in a way, but yeah it does smell very vintage. I REALLY love vintage scent profiles so thats a positive in my eyes. But if you dislike that; dont even try this This also lasts ages on me. It never smells synthetic. It may be! But its blended so well that it smells like a fresh bouquet resting on your skin.

I've always been curious about Anais Anais - my mother says it was one of the first fragrances she bought for herself and has always had a soft spot, but I think she 'grew out of it' long before my time and I'd never tried it on myself, although I've thought of Cacharel very highly as some of the most distinctive and well-thought-out scents at their price point around. I bought a very cheap bottle of this because I figured it'd be nice to have something simple and comforting to wear at home in quarantine and I'm in love with it. On one level it is definitely a very familiar, soapy white floral, "youthful" almost to the extent of baby powder - but the florals shimmer through in incredible clarity at points, fading in and out the same way that you catch a scent on a breeze. The initial bloom of hyacinth and honeysuckle is really powerful and smells impressively "real"; after that it settles down to a clean, soapy but very assertive and noticeable scent. I'm not wild about this, as the soap/musk scent at this level of projection speaks somewhat of having oversprayed deodorant, but every time it has me thinking I don't like it there's a bloom of heady jasmine, lily, hyacinth which captures the more complex, slightly 'dirty' undertones to those florals, and I'm in love again. I wish it was a little greener, but if I sniff it on the skin I do get a real mossy note rather than just the purely sterile powder-musk and the lack of any sweet fruit or vanilla is so refreshing. If it takes me somewhere I think it's imagining my grandparent's garden (which always was full of tremendous honeysuckle, roses and jasmine blooms in the summertime), a sunny summer morning, taking a freshly laundered white towel to lie on the lawn because there's still dew on the grass. I don't know how often I'd wear this out of the house but it's definitely a pleasant fantasy for the next few weeks at home.

Do you ever have the experience—no, the revelation—of truly seeing someone only once the final curtain has fallen? It is a peculiar postscript to a life, this belated clarity. And so it has been with my mother. The person dearest to me in this world, the sole curator of my heart, has become, in her absence, a puzzle I am only now learning to solve. With each passing day without her, I uncover some small, overlooked facet of her spirit, a secret she held in plain sight. I see her now for what she was: a romantic, a genuine dreamer who carried within her a vein of lovely sadness, a melancholic hum. Yet she was a fighter, too. A woman of formidable strength. Her vanity held a small collection of scents, but among them, one remained a constant: Anais Anais. A fixture from my earliest memories. That last Christmas, I saw her unwrap yet another bottle—the same, familiar, milky-glass vessel. She was pleased. A fragrance is a most intimate ghost, a whisper of a soul—l'esprit de parfum; the term is, for once, perfectly just. And so, what remains to me now? The photographs grow static, the memories, however wonderful, are mine alone to animate. But the Anais Anais—that is hers. When the longing becomes a physical ache, I permit myself the sacrament of its scent. For a moment, just a moment, the veil thins, and she is beside me. And I think, how perfectly it suited her. It was her very essence: a juxtaposition in vapor. In her, delicacy met strength, romance coexisted with independence, and nature was enhanced by art. Mama's birthday fell on the third of July. And now, you see, Anais Anais is that day: a summer’s afternoon in the garden, suspended in memory. We are sitting in the grass, our backs against the trunk of the cherry tree. The sun is a bright, heavy coin in the sky and the air itself seems to sing. That is the perfume. That is her.

A sweet/green powdery floral with a realistic honeysuckle and hyacinth accord. Really nostalgic for me--I don't think I ever had a bottle of my own, but I must have had friends and classmates who wore it because the fragrance was instantly familiar to me. I think this smells like Dove soap with a soupçon of cut grass, and it's surprisingly powerful for an EDT. I think I will probably use this mostly as an after-shower, bedtime scent--it would be pleasant to smell this as I'm drifting off, and on my sheets the next morning. I know that this probably strikes most people as a spring/summer fragrance, but I think it's as versatile as, well, the smell of soap, powder, and flowers. This is what I imagine a clean, freshly bathed and powdered baby might smell like if said baby's mom wasn't uptight about fragrance. Perhaps some fragrant French baby of yore. Update: It is absolutely bananas how long this EDT lasts. Until now, I thought only the Elizabeth Taylor EDTs were insanely strong (although my "super cologne" from Estee is also a monster of sillage and longevity despite being supposedly lighter than the EDP form), but this teensy one-ounce bottle of Anais Anais L'Originale is going to last a very long time considering a single spray on one hand has perdured for HOURS now. I'm afraid that if I put it on at my bedtime ablutions it will be going strong tomorrow, and probably until my next shower. It's truly astonishing that such a delicate and transparent and unrepentantly GIRLY eau de toilette can cling to my dry old back-of-the-hand skin for so long. Good thing I like lily, LotV, jasmine, rose, moss, and white musk because these midnotes are still sending out whiffs of sylvan springtime every time I move my hand.

This *really does* smell exactly like the original I remember from childhood! Anais Anais has always had more of a "feeling" than a smell, for me... it gives me an abstract impression of a time and place, rather than a list of notes in my head. I inhale it and instinctively picture a whitewashed wood 1920's farmhouse under a vast blue prairie sky... in a bedroom of that house, a woman has just emerged from her claw-foot tub and has put on her white cotton nightgown for bed... but first, she sits at her dark wood vanity to brush her long hair with a silver brush... there is a white iron bed in the room, white cotton curtains on tall windows ... Somehow, one little spritz of a fragrance composed by a modern-day perfumer does all of that for me, and there is so much more... Anaias Anais is what my mom wore, and it suited her so well... although she was adapted to manage as a single, working mom in a modern world, her soul was from another time... she loved to sew and work in her garden, loved the country and simple things, never fell for any idea the world tried to push on women of what she was supposed to be, she just was who she was, a natural, genuine, kind person who was deeply loved by everyone who knew her. I lost my mom far too young, for both of us- she was only 41 and I was 19- I have now been without her for as long as she was with me. So, smelling this again, after all these years, is an emotional experience, of course (typing and weeping)... turns out, just as intense an emotional experience as I'd hoped it would be. Little sadness, mostly just love. This smells like love to me, like my mom's hugs, and that is probably how it will feel forever.

Carpe Diem, they told us from the big screen. The Dead Poets Society (1989) reminded us but we already knew. We were surrounded by black and white photos, eyes peering at us from the 1920's and the 1940's on university hallway walls, in old libraries and in antique shops. Anais Anais was an olfactory mirror of our environment, she whispered using desiccated Lillies, graveyard moss and sensual musks as her speakerphone, saying that we were corporeal today but not for long. It's like a religious sermon in a perfume, if you are listening. No this is not purely innocent and clean. Yes, it has a soapy element but It's a time capsule in a bottle from an era where we were constantly told by the talking heads on tv that we were about to be annihilated, any minute, by the missiles deep underground in our own backyards. We were told that if we had sex we would surely die so we went to bible study by day and yelled out profanity laden lyrics on the dance floor at night. The bottle looks innocent, but it is deceptive because the messages contained therein are dark, dark, dark. It had an incense note and we were surrounded by smoke, like we lived-afraid that we were about to go up in smoke. like we lived in a matrix of potential impending mass sacrifice. Anais Anais told us things that we already knew. We felt it coming and danced through, acting brave in the process. We were just wrong about what it was and what it would look like, here, now, in the distant future. Innocent and clean, fresh and powdery? No. Real perfume, complex, intelligent, melds with your body and becomes a part of you. Contemplative, melancholic, corporeal, gothic, alive.

SOFTER than SNOWFLAKES Lily/White-Floral Powder-Puff Bouquet. Overall I get a delicate white-floral with powderiness that reminds me of an ultra-fine, after-the-bath body powder applied with an oversized powder-puff. I appreciate the beauty and delicacy here, but I would kinda need to be in the mood for this, or at least be lounging around the house in a silk kimono with my powder-puff, hair up with some fallen tendrils. Opens with a burst of hyacinth & honeysuckle, that deepens into the white-floral heart of lily & lily-of-the-valley rounded out by jasmine, ylang & rose. This all rests on a floral support base of oakmoss, musk & vetiver with a faint note of black-currant that continues the lily, and sandalwood emerging way into the drydown. Contrast to Sung Alfred Sung: These are different, but there are striking similarities with hyacinth. However the overall effect is different and Sung is a saucier more exotic leaning version of Anais Anais, and doesn't have the powder-puff vibe present in Anais Anais. Roughly equivalent performance, or slighty better for Sung. Contrast to Neiges Lise Watier: These are different, but again there are striking similarities but an different overall effect. In Neiges you do get a slightly coarser vibe of snow, while Anais Anais is softer and leans more to a powder-puff vibe. Roughly equivalent performance. Overall: Gorgeous powder-puff scent, with excellent performance for year-round wear. For what it is, it's a love for me. Lovers of white-florals, enjoy!

I don't know how it's possible, but the bottle I've had for like 6+ years is still good! Every time I use it, I spray it onto a random tshirt first because I'm always thinking: ok, this will be the day that I try it and it's finally gone off! But no! It's still the beautiful, comforting scent that I've always loved. The reason I haven't used up the whole bottle in 6+ years is because i feel like it goes with specific types of outfits that I rarely ever have a chance to wear - anything white, floral dresses, etc. (as someone else mentioned, it's definitely giving cottage-core vibes) I couldn't see myself wearing this with my regular casual clothes. AND the projection and longevity are so good that I only ever need a few sprays. Yes, it's vintage smelling, but to me it doesn't evoke an image of an elderly woman. There's a certain innocence and purity to it that brings to mind a young woman with what some may consider old fashioned sensibilities. She's young and sweet but she already has her principles figured out and she knows who she is. The opening is a very strong, green hyacinth that remains prominent until the dry down. The dry down is a lot sweeter than the opening, but also kind of earthy, but in a clean way - I mostly get lily, moss and vetiver. It's powdery, soft, delicate and nostalgic. I'll definitely repurchase this after my current bottle finally goes off!

My mum bought me this one a couple of months ago and she said her first boyfriend gifted it to her in 1978. I was looking at Anais Anais for a very long time becasue of my current crazy phase of being into scents of 70 ́s and 80 ́s (the ones that scream on 100 km even after you leave the place and most of the people around you get nauseous) created mostly of the Lilly-of-the-Valley, Carnation, Hyacinth, Iris, Narcissus, Ylang-Ylang, Violet, Oakmoss... Because I never dared to buy it, I was really happy when my mum gave it me out of sudden. The silage and lonegvity are moderate and it works very well with my skin (I don ́t like it on the clothes). The hyacinth is the most dominat and so real that I had difficulty to distinguish if I smell hyacinth from my grandmother ́s garden or Anais Anais. I can ́t talk about the old vs. new version, becasue I don ́t know the smell of the original one but at least for the new one, I have to say I love it and it really describes me well. With Anais Anais I feel sexy, girly but at the same time mature, and "artistic". My mum wrote her piece of story with this perfume, now is time to write mine.

I love to wear this mossy green aldehyde-musk bomb after a shower to feel even more radiantly clean. I'm not sure if Anais Anais is a "clean girl" scent by current standards, but it's *my* idea of a clean fragrance. Granted, not everyone associates a base of moss and vetiver as clean, but the hyacinth, honeysuckle, and super-soapy white lily make me think of some virginal forest sprite emerging from her sylvan lair. It also reminds me of being 12 or 13 years old, smelling the shower smells in the gym locker room, where I'm sure many girls were wearing this fragrance. I don't think I had a bottle myself, but I clearly remember smelling it at school and in my mom's fashion magazines, and I liked the wispy, Impressionist-inflected advertisements. This formulation probably isn't exactly the same as the original version--oakmoss is highly regulated now by IFRA--but it smells close enough to my memories, and I don't have an original bottle with which to compare it. It's a very good bargain at this price, and don't let the EDT designation fool you into thinking that the performance is lacking. This baby throws!

blind bought this bc my mom told me she used to wear it it in the 80s and i was intrigued. thought it smelled like detergent at first before resolving into a sickeningly powdery smell so i only wore it twice before it was relocated to the drawer of doom but then 2 months later i pulled it out and again and i loved it. idk if the smell evolved over time or if something changed in my brain chemistry but this is now my go-to scent for when i want to smell melancholic and mysterious. i truly don't know how to explain it but this makes me feel like a traumatised white girl with an intricate backstory and a poetry journal. like i'm going to go missing eventually and the male protagonist ( who is in love with me ) is going to religiously study the aforementioned journal in order to understand my complex troubled psyche, therefore Finding me both metaphorically and literally. i think failed my driving test bc of this perfume as it truly puts me in a strange state of mind

Oh. This is a very dual thing for me. I can imagine it with a cottagecore dress and on Winona Ryder in some episodes of Dracula (1992). It's bright and clean, but a little cold and introverted. I imagine this fragrance on a clean body that has been washed with lily-scented soap and covered with white powder. It's a mysterious fragrance. It isn't mysterious like "Yes, I am a hot and wild oriental baby who will lure you into my claws with the help of languor and sweetness" (I love this option too), but it's something like "I am cold enough and will behave according to all the rules, but remember that lily - a symbol not only of innocence. I will not be the first to make contact, but I will give you a reason to break the tabu for me. I have a secret and you can try to unravel it." Yes, I want to be this owner of an old mansion full of secrets sometimes. It is a cold, green and slightly bitter fragrance, but it has a feminine powder and charming lily.

So I absolutely love this perfume. I can smell the honeysuckle, lily-of-the-valley, jasmine and rose. I do love all those notes, but what I do not usually love, however, is the powder notes in some perfumes. In fact, I think it ruins many of them......but not here. This is not a powder poof to the nostrils. In Anais Anais, it adds a very feminine whisper of youthfulness. Not youthful as in juvenile, but more like a young woman. That’s what I get from it anyways. This doesn’t smell mature to me at all. Although I think all ages could definitely wear it, I picture a young, bohemian hipster wearing this while she searches for treasures at a second hand store. Kate Moss did an add campaign for this perfume which represented the fragrance perfectly! The earthy, wood, and mossy notes are a gorgeous addition to the florals. It truly results in a beautiful blend. This is Cacharel’s best💜

🌸 I got a mini bottle. I am in my lovely sunroom It's a LOVELY 🌞 day I'm on the 9th floor high up looking at thousands of trees nothing industrial. I put this MAGICAL scent on me and I feel transported.... I feel part of the nature literally. It's so splendid and pure. 💐The lily of the valley and honeysuckle really is showing its fragrant watery beauty after about 10 minutes. The air surrounding me has turned into a aura of lush innocent flowers. It's a tad soapy and clean. I love this ...perfect for a teenager's first fragrance. So playful and youthful. After 20 minutes it's more musky and a tad bit more mature and refined. One of a kind. Brings back memories. I never wore it but my friend did. I'll be getting a big bottle soon. This is one I can't be without. Its a hug in a bottle. It envelops the soul...its light but powerful! Timeless. 🌟

This smells exactly like my high school in the 1980's which is a good sign that this is an excellent reformulation. The only slight difference is the oakmoss. 80's Anais Anais had a stronger mossy note in the base most likely due to the use of real deal genuine oakmoss. That said, this version is a close facsimile of what nearly everyone wore then. A long lasting, beautiful, earthy, mossy, musky floral. Must be tested on skin to get the complete picture of vintage magic this potion creates. Real perfume that wears differently dependent on the skin of the user. I detest Anais Nin and her overwrought naval gazing musings and faux intellectualism but I love this perfume despite my dislike for her namesake. The DNA remains pure. No CRISPR editing yet, still human in spite of now synthetic oakmoss note. 9.5/10

My dad gifted me this maybe 2 years ago? All I got was powder. I ignored it for my more vivacious scents. Fast frwrd: I find gourmands overwhelming so reached for this.....IM OBSESSED. Idk if my nose "reset" after my pregnancy... Anyway, SO many notes but extremely well blended, all I get is this very clean white bar of soap. White musk, thick & a bit sweet & enveloping. Im on my 2nd bottle and wear it after all my evening showers, over unscented lotion. I wake up to it all over my pillow and sheets. It's SO delicious. Bonus: my husband LOVES it.. he buries his face in my neck. 10/10. I also layer it with vanillas and LET ME TELL YOU its FANTASTIC. (Not blind buy safe if you dont like soapy, powdery florals.)

The old version of this with the frosted cap and fat cylinder shape smells stronger and lasts longer than this eau de toilette version, however the scent is very similar to it. It smells softer and lighter than the other, it's a very nice scent. I can smell some nutty notes, maybe almond??? It's less noticeable on the EDT, but you can feel it on other versions. I can smell a lot of the sandalwood and jasmine, the rose is there but less noticeable than others. I can't really notice hyacinth. It's a very very nice scent, definitely meant for people looking for a soft, delicate floral with a bit of powderyness, the commercials for it definitely capture visually how this smells :D