Nuit de Noel

It's a freezing and dreary day. Not just every day however. It's Christmas Eve. And a proper one I might say, since there's a lot of snow around. And what's more, I got all lucky in my "thematic" shopping this morning. I stumbled upon a near mint antique bottle of Nuit de Noël in a flea market, complete with its jade shagreen case, tassel and stuff, and since I've always thought of it as one of the most elegant packagings ever made, I grabbed it without further ado. I guess that wishing it was full too, would be sort of pushing my luck. With a solid piece of history in my coat's pocket, I think that having a couple of drinks while sniffing it wouldn't be such a bad idea on this cold winter day. So, pretending that it's 1922, I enter an old bistrot in the city's most popular square, and order a glass of fine cognac. From where I am, I can see a girl sitting on the stairs of a building's entrance, lying opposite to the bistrot's side windows. A cascade of fiery red hair is bursting from her beanie. She's like a torch burning in the snow... She has placed her bag on the cold and wet marble and she's sitting on it. She holds a small paper bag in her hands and looks excited. I wonder what the cause of her exhilaration could be. I take a sip of my cognac and smile. What she takes out of her small paper bag makes my heart miss a beat. I recognise the plain black-capped rectangular bottle. Or, to put it better, I recognise its label. She opens it and dabs a few drops on her wrists and on the sides of her neck. Now if this is not a coincidence, then it has to be fate signing at me. Encouraged by the spirit of the day, I decide to be a little more daring than usual and find out which of the two. ... "I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Her amber eyes widen with surprise. "What?..." "Your Christmas Eve." "What about it?" I sway my bottle in front of her eyes. "Hey! This has the same name, but it's so more beautiful and looks so old. What is it?" "The grandmother of yours. Care to meet her?" She accepts my offer for a drink. After all it's freezing outside. ... "Oh my God... This is magical..." Although the perfume is long gone, its soul is still lingering. And sometimes an echo can be louder than the sound itself. She remains silent with her eyes closed for quite a while. Although I suspect where she might have been drifting, I ask her anyway. "I was trying to imagine some of the hands that once held this bottle and some of the words that were whispered because of its content being worn. Anyway, my bus leaves in four hours. Can you stand me being ecstatic for this long, oh my noble stranger?" "Noble stranger" is how we agreed calling each other, to maintain some of the mystery that is weaved with this special and magic day. But in any case, I tell her that I could possibly stand her more likely for four years, if she could be that dramatic the whole time. She smiles. "OK, my turn now." Although she has it dabbed also on her wrists, she lifts her hair, tilts her head, and invites me to sniff her neck. This upretentious and impulsive gesture warms my heart. But I guess this is what this girl is all about, warming people's hearts. I go for the sniff, and... I don't know if it's her gesture, the perfume itself, the surrounding festive atmosphere or any combination of them, but what I smell almost brings tears in my eyes. I struggle not to kiss her neck, but it's my apparently cold nose tip that spares me the struggle, cause it touches her skin slightly and startles her a bit. She steps back and sees my nearly teary eyes. "Hey you dummy... Stop spoiling me! Do I smell that good?" "You smell like the angels working in Heaven's pastry shop, while a forest wood fire is roaring in its fireplace..." ... She won't stop giggling and laughing heartily for the whole three hours we'll spent together. She won't stop sniffing her wrists either. She looks so happy and carefree. It's time for her to leave and catch her bus. We walk outside and we stand for a while, staring at each other. I don't know what to say. She doesn't seem to know either. She hesitates for a moment. Then she leans towards me and with her frail hand tracing my cheek, her lips brush mine for an instant. And by this fragile token of affection, I know that her scent will remain on me forever. She turns her back and starts to walk away. After a few steps she stops and turns her head back. "I'm Maria!" she shouts, before vanishing in the crowd. I stand still among hundreds of people who are walking around me hastily. I light a cigarette and lean my back against a wall. I close my eyes and try to imagine what she might be thinking when she went outside for a couple of minutes to buy a pack of cigarettes. I close my eyes and try to imagine her surprise when she'll discover the flacon in her bag... ... I hope you're happy beautiful Maria, wherever you are. I never saw you grow old. I never saw you become distant. And you never saw me either. Your icon remains immaculate in my mind, just like this little wonder that made our paths cross, that cold winter morning, 28 years ago. Your laughter is still ringing in my ears. And like a friendly and beloved ghost, you shall visit me once more this year, on the same day that I will allow myself a dab of the perfume that is you. Forever young... Forever happy... Forever my Maria from the Christmas of 1986. My beautiful Maria of Nuit de Noël...

I have been wearing NdN for many years, and have it in every formulation except the most recent. This is perfume magic. It is almost impossible to describe NdN with the usual pedestrian perfume terminology. Is it, for example, sexy? Well, I wouldn’t say it is not sexy, or unsexy. But, to call Nuit de Noel sexy is somewhat like describing Katherine Hepburn as sexy: of course she is, but that does nothing to evoke the essential Hepburn. Like Hepburn, Nuit de Noel is too smart, too complicated, too contradictory, too elusive, and too unique, to be merely sexy. Or sweet, or lovely. Nuit de Noel is like any great artwork: it cannot be easily understood, appreciated, or dismissed. It is not for sniffing or sampling or testing. How does one sample great art? That would be like listening to outtakes of a great concerto, or looking at postcards of a great painting. Here is a perfume that changes over time, changes with the seasons, changes with the weather, changes with your mood. Changes with you, as you age and change over the years. Always, it is deep and rich, always smoky and dark. But, it is, how can I describe this: like a contrapuntal movement in music, notes appear independently of each other, yet are paired, connected by tonal quality, but disconnected. Every once in a while, one voice is lifted above the chorus, ringing clear as a bell: Jasmine! Rose! Ylang ylang! And all the while, the deep tenor of the oakmoss can be felt beneath your feet: Boom! Boom! The amber is sweet, warm and resinous. With the sandalwood, clearly Mysore, the amber and oakmoss create a very solid, lasting and balanced drydown. The original extrait in the old Baccarat bottles is the most powerful, and otherworldly. This juice is dark and oily, redolent of dark forests at night, inky with oakmoss, rich and earthy, lasting as long as two or three days, wearing closer over time. The EDT is a friendlier, easier, less distracting version of the extrait. This could be called lovely, and I enjoy wearing this one to work and to play, with a particularly sweet and narcotic ylang ylang. Warm, boozy, smoky, and, yes, sexy. Although this perfume cannot be all things to all people, it is everything to me.

There should be a picture of Nuit de Noel in the dictionary next to the word vamp. Maybe this isn't supposed to be a sexy fragrance, and it doesn't really give off that vibe on its own per se. However, pair it with an otherwise sexy, especially classically sexy outfit (i.e. little black dress and heels), and it takes the whole thing to a new level. When I think sexy, I don't usually think oakmoss and ylang together, but it is, especially when rose and sandalwood are added. It's mature in the sense that the wearer needs to be self assured, but it's not "old", if you're my age (20s), a big personality is required to pull it off. Maybe you need that to wear this at any age, it's not a perfume that will go unnoticed. Lovingthealien's review is spot-on, I think. This represents the 1920's, but only in an overly glamorous, slightly exaggerated way. That's not a bad thing, I love the excessive side of the 20's, it was the epitome of glamour, aesthetically speaking anyway. And if Nuit de Noel has anything to do with Christmas, it is indeed a goth Christmas. It's one of the darkest perfumes I've smelled without even trying to be, but it's also warm enough to be somewhat festive (for someone who doesn't usually do festive). I get the Catholic Church incense note, and oakmoss reminds me of colder weather in general. The florals complete it, it's one of the smoothest chypres ever at the opening, and then it morphs into more of a floral-oriental. The base is very similar to Tabac Blonde. I'll be honest- I didn't like this or any of the Carons that I sampled on first try, I actually found them kind of shocking and unpleasant but strangely addictive, like, I couldn't stop sniffing the vial or wearing the stuff even though I thought I probably hated it. It was the first line of perfumes in a long time to challenge me that much, but a few days later I was head-over-heels in love with each of the Carons I tried and Caronade in general. They all have an attitude. They don't need you to like or approve of them, they enthusiastically challenge the status quo, and Nuit de Noel can't be properly worn without at least a bit of cynicism in your nature. A legit flapper perfume for sure.

My flacon of NUIT DE NOËL in the EDT came in today. It is a full tester flacon dating to the 1970's, so I'm guessing the oakmoss and musks are authentic. Interestingly, the atomiseur is not hand-pump-operated, but rather is powered with an internal aerosol, in the modern fashion. Initial spray on my skin yields brilliant, nose-prickling aldehydes of the vintage Chanel No. 5 variety, strongly tinged with a boozy/rummy nutmeg almost recalling spiked eggnog, perhaps. The opening aldehydes have that "vintage hairspray" smell, much like Worth JE REVIENS. Then a brilliant sheen of swirling, indistinct floralcy remains for some time, reminding me of the carnation in L'AIR DU TEMPS along with abstract concepts of rose and muted ylang. It all dries down to a bittersweet aromatic/oriental quality closely related to that of Molinard HABANITA: a faint, discreet sweetness alluding to vanilla and benzoin, but made bitter with a sombre myrrh and a viney geranium, laced with a nuance of toasted nuts and dried orange-peel and a faintly ghosted cinnamon. Some might even read the bitterness as being nicotinic, like freshly dried tobacco leaves. In farthest drydown, one sees the whole mixture is balanced on a tender deermusk/oakmoss/benzoin base, which recalls anew the nutmeg of the takeoff. Monsieur Daltroff has somehow managed to conjure up the olfactory impression of a dozen lit candle tapers... we smell the melting wax, the golden heat along with a delicate smoky nuance. THIS is undoubtedly the "Christmas" the name is describing. NdN is a lovely scent, maybe not dazzlingly complex, exactly, but straightforward and shapeshifting in the pre-1960's style. As others have mentioned, it does not smell like any Christmas I can think of, but instead is trying to capture, probably, the sombreness of a midnight mass in a Catholic church. It also seems to defy olfactive family categorization, like VOL DE NUIT and HABANITA do: an ambered, sweetish base pointing to Oriental, but with upper notes that seem to indicate an aldehydic floral chypre. If you are studying perfume history, you'd do well to obtain some NUIT DE NOËL.

Wow, this is insanely beautiful. It doesn't make me think of Christmas, despite the name, but if you love a floral chypre, you would be ecstatic to get a bottle of this from Père Noel. The rose, jasmine, and ylang-ylang are always present but so suffused with oakmoss and (real--this is vintage, after all) sandalwood that there's no real sweetness, just a bit of powdery, emerald-green floralcy, in a superbly cohesive blend. Whenever I smell a great vintage chypre like Caron Nuit de Noel or Guerlain Mahora, I start hoping that this scent profile will become popular again. I don't hate gourmands--far from it--but I miss the days when ladies smelled more like gardens and forests than cakes and candies. Update: Hours into the wear, it's still perceptible, but that doesn't mean I didn't refresh it. This fragrance is oddly addictive. I'm going to upgrade the longevity because I just noticed that this is an EDC--it's easily as strong and as long-lasting as a contemporary EDP, perhaps stronger than most. If you're a fan of Ysatis and White Diamonds parfum, or OG Coco EDP, or even Mitsouko, keep your eyes peeled for a vintage bottle of this. I probably won't acquire any more when I use up my bottle, but that's only because I put myself on a perfume budget, at least until I use up some of my existing fragrances, which could take a long time. But if you are a fan of Guerlain Mahora and lavish amounts of real oakmoss, you're going to want this vintage gem. Update: Four hours into the drydown, the sandalwood really begins to sing on the skin. It's divine. I am also reminded of Sisley Eau du Soir, 1990 vintage.

The goth-est Christmas ever. This stuff is the 1920s in a bottle. Not the real 1920s, mind you, but the overly-made-up-so-you-can-see-their-features-in-black-and-white-movies kind of 1920s. It smells antique, but not a familiar kind of antique - almost like a fictional depiction of the past, such as in Nosferatu. Instead of aldehydes and powder, you are treated to (or forced into) civet, ylang-ylang and the incredibly alien and luxurious mousse de saxe base. Though a bit beguiling in the top notes, it reveals a very somber, yet comforting, funerary bouquet. The aroma that follows, the "mousse de saxe" base, is truly the love-it-or-leave-it moment for this fragrance. I was immediately stunned by its complexity. There is a distinct chypre element present, but it's wrong. Instead of the forest floor, it reminds me more of a cabin in the forest. When you attempt to relate the name to the fragrance, it sort of comes together. This is the kind of Christmas one would find in Grimm's fairy tales - The warmth of the fire, fur blankets, and dried herbs are merely a part of the larger setting of the twisted, treacherous winter forest outside. Perhaps this is what Christmas felt like in Russia in the 1800s. The vintage extrait literally takes my breath away, but even the very most modern version of the Eau de Toilette is a positively excellent and wearable fragrance. Vintage jewelery optional; depression mandatory.

This review is for the parfum (from a decant). I'm afraid I may never be able to get my eager hands on the parfum in full bottle form. I haven't tried the EDT, but have heard it's quite weak in comparison. I am tempted to give it a try though... So, the edp: this is an oakmoss bomb!! Beautiful, brown syrupy juice filled with feral oakmoss. But, it doesn't stop there: heady, sweet ylang ylang, boozy cognac, whisky, and spicey mulled wine...and powdery musk to knock your socks off. I have no idea how all of these disparate notes work together, but somehow they do, and it is magic. Had I simply blind-sniffed this, my initial reaction would not have been "Christmas." Though I agree that (at least in edp form) this is best for chilly months, it actually strikes me as quite naughty...but in a louche, languid sort of way. I picture sipping a few old-fashioned highballs with a person of interest, followed by heavy petting in front of a fire...but I digress. This is strangely addictive and soothing. It evokes that warm, tingly (and slightly tipsy) feeling you get inside when you've had a great meal, some great wine, and some robust conversation with friends. I wish I could speak more to the notes and nuances, but I just find Nuit de Noel so evocative that I would rather speak in metaphors than try to overanalyze it. It's magic, potent, and one-of-a-kind.

I have been curious about this fragrance for some time, as I have the impression that it is one of the more "you either love it or leave it alone" types of fragrance. I just received a sample of the perfume (extrait) which was a pleasant surprise, as I had thought I was going to get an edt sample. I had no idea what to expect, and as soon as I put it on I just thought "you were made for me!" This one knocks me over with its luscious, dark and spicy beauty. I am going to have to purchase the extrait, when I save up the money, lol! This is a sample of the modern formula parfum extrait. I am not going to bother looking for a vintage, as they are way out of my price range. I love this but my only concern is that after four hours it completely disappears, on my skin. I would think that the parfum itself should be more potent and long lasting than that? Perhaps this is the curse of reformulation, then (either that or I have the skin chemistry of Godzilla, which is what I am beginning to suspect). I still want it, and plan to have it with me, always.. This has been a great perfume year for me! From January until now, I have been completely swept off of my feet by two beautiful classic perfumes, Guerlain's Jicky and now Caron's Nuit de Noel; both are passionate loves that I will take to my grave! Le Mouchoir de Monsieur, your review is magical!

NdN Edt Oakmoss, Ylang, Jasmine and Rose..there are those florals peeking from the Oakmoss. Refined, chic and lovely. She tells her story slowly, languidly, like a worldly mature woman that has experienced life. The sandalwood enters and drys out the mossy floral. A cinnamon-spicy warmth of wood gives it a slight exotic touch. In 2016, this scent is very foreign, yet in 1920s it was a hallmark of comfort and celebration. The mousse de saxe base rises and most of the oakmoss has receded at the end of the tale. Its creamy vanillic amber leather musk gives it some body and a slight edge of understated sexiness. She isnt for everyone. But to the ones willing to understand her story, give her a few tries (It took me 4 wearings to get a good handle on it because NdN changes with the seasons, chemistry, location, etc.) and you will be rewarded. Sometimes the oakmoss takes center stage but when the florals dominate over the moss..its gorgeous. Ive never experienced winter flowers...but its done here. It isnt glam but it is seductive. Hauntingly gorgeous.Blooms in winter Hopefully one day I can experience the vintage extrait. great for: Oakmoss lovers Sophisticated woody scent Vintage perfumistas Men could wear it Not sweet at all.

A Caron masterpiece I've been lusting after a vintage bottle of the EDC for some time now and today all my hopes/expectations for this classic have been met (and I might add, exceeded). I'd have to call this a chypre floral since the florals are dry, not sweet like an oriental. The EDT is basically a warm, woody/spicy fragrance with a floral heart. The first note was a sharp citrus accord, probably bergamot, which was quickly replaced by the floral notes. Not a whiff of aldehydes present to my nose. Warm, dry, and almost leathery in their undertones, these floral notes have a languid, dark undercurrent (seems as if that was a specialty of the house in their day!) A dark, spicy, smokey tone envelops the floral notes and turns what should be a sweet heart into an intriguing, complex blend that is absolutely seemless and breathtakingly beautiful. The oakmoss and sandalwood accords take the florals to a whole different level of complexity. The incense-like spiciness continue into the drydown, which is amberous, musky and really luscious. Not a casual fragrance; this demands respect. What a masterful combination of notes. Sillage strong, longevity very good, about 9 hours on me.

I have a 1ml sample of Nuit de Noel pure perfume. While I'm very pleased I was able to obtain this, I am now very worried because I have fallen deeply in love with Nuit de Noel. I need a full bottle (28mls of pure perfume comes in a gorgeous black flacon), but to own it would cripple me financially. I'm a sucker for Christmas inspired scents, but this one is so dreamy and creamy it's something else. This could be worn all year round, I don't find it heavy, it's snuggly, cosy but not overwhelming. If Serge Lutens Fille en Aiguilles is a walk in a wintry pine forest ending in front of a log fire, Nuit de Noel is a house at Christmas, where the scent of freshly baked all spice cookies wafts from the kitchen into other rooms - there's definitely a log fire burning away in the background and there's some kind of liqueur being drunk...to be honest, I'm a bit lost for words. Forget long winded reviews, let me just say yum yum. *Happened to read that Marilyn Monroe wore Nuit de Noel, so that was quite an interesting revelation! Update: I caved in and managed to find a vintage sealed bottle on eBay for half the price of a new bottle. Waiting in anticipation for its arrival.

Nuit de Noel is no Christmas as we know it. It is a strange, apprehending and unnerving fragrance that brings forth a variety of notes all slightly off key and not what they should be. It is an unfloral-floral, a savoury Vanilla, a wintery Chypre a Western oriental. It is in fact a foreigner abroad, the perpetual expatriate. It gathers around itself all the talismans of celebration and success: a little animalic, some rose, jasmine, oakmoss and leather. But rather than a self confident Paris dressed woman at the height of Eurpoean chicery the effect is of a lonely glamourously tragic gin-soaked figure carving out an existence in place of living a life, somewhere far off and unhappy. This is a precise and beautiful perfume, done great disservice by reviewers who perceive only its sweeter and more flowery notes. They are like the local diplomat who intentionally misses the melancholy in the eyes of his colleagues wife, just to save inconvenience. Like many sad smells it is eminently wearable, during festive season, Spring or Fall and by female or male. It has found itself a pride of place in my growing empire of fragrance.

This is a review for the vintage 1950s fragrance, which I bought in a splash bottle with the bakelite cap, and decanted into a glass spray. Oh my God, what a beautiful fragrance. I can’t believe how good this is. It has a weird, unpleasant but compelling resinous top note that reminds me of the opening notes of Royal Bain de Champagne (my RBdeC bottle is also vintage, 1960s - don't know if the modern reformulation is the same but mine gets crystals around the spray from the incense). Then something edible kicks in, like marzipan or frangipane cakes or the gooey filling in almond croissants - even my anosmic husband could smell it. Then after 30 minutes, there is a great bloom of soft flowers - so well blended I couldn't pick out individual notes. The drydown is soft and creamy and marron-glacé-ish. Wonderful. It is, to me, very sexy - Caron fragrances are very private, like silk underwear - they don't go advertising themselves like floozies, they're for the private pleasure of the wearer - and those lucky enough to get close enough to her to smell them!

This is a perfume that goes on with an explosion--big aldehydes, florals, woods, you name it. It quickly calms down then, smelling of ylang-ylang, sandalwood, and some vanilla. The base gets woodier, and muskier the longer you wear it. All the notes as they drydown have this powdery, blurry, almost ephemeral thing going on--yet Noel is not outright powdery. It lasts a good long while, 8+ hours, and you will be able to smell it all day, but it doesn't have incredible sillage that will choke people, especially after the top notes die out. I mostly like this because of the way it makes me feel. I feel like I'm in an old house, built on the edge of town, with a lot of wood fixtures, and forbidding but enticing staircases, with resins and incense burning on tables but windows open to let in crisp autumnal air. There is stained glass giving everything a surreal color, and there is oil-painted pictures on the walls of the house. I'm wearing leather boots and a wool dress, and who I will find in this house, I do not know. (This is for the EDT, new bottle.)

For those wondering about the name it's fairly clear to anyone raised Roman Catholic of a certain age. The perfume has a rich "incense" note that probably comes from the amber and oakmoss. For anyone who's gone to midnight mass on Christmas eve it brings back every memory of incense, women dressed in their best wearing Chanel No 5 and Shalimar--the most wonderful sensual experience that one can have, particularly with a pipe organ vibrating your bones as you hear Jesu Joy of Man's Desire or Hark the Herald Angels Sing. (I digress.) This is one of the few scents I wear as perfume, which means you must treat it with care and a bit of suspicion. The sillage is amazing and it lasts forever--perfect for the kind of parties where you'd wear pearls or mink but very definitely a grown-up perfume--not the kind that would have pink-themed ads. Wearing this requires taking yourself seriously and being able to recognize the right occasion. When treated with respect it may not love you but it will elevate you.

I absolutely love this one. The first time I smelled it I thought: oh no, what I have I done. It smelled dated. At the time, aldehydes and indolic yellow florals were tough notes for me, and I was so confused about how this could be a Christmas scent. I could smell the mouse de saxe base, which I adore, but it was buried underneath. Upset with having wasted a good amount of money on a mini, I stashed it in the back of my cabinet. Five months and a new found obsession with Chanel No°5 later, omg, I get, and I love it!!! The aldehydes really shine in the winter, and evoke snow for me. The warm florals add a cozy richness that blend beautifully with the incense. The mouse de saxe smells both earthy and chic, like you would wear this scent if you had Christmas at an expensive resort in Yosemite or something. Perfectly composed and timeless. Between Yatagan, Tabac Blond, and now Nuit de Noel, Caron is my all time favorite house. If they release this beauty again, I’ll be the first to buy.

The version that I have is the vintage parfum. What this has to do with Christmas night, I’m not sure, but it’s lovely nonetheless. It starts out as a strong, sharp, aldehydic, classic chypre with notes of leathery violet or violet-scented leather and oakmoss. It’s dry and non-sweet, with very little in the way of overt floral notes except a hint of ylang-ylang. Sillage is moderate, and longevity is at least 6-8 hours. It has the feel of so many vintage perfumes where the top notes have become pared down to their essentials, revealing the structure underneath more clearly than probably was intended. To me, this is one of the wonderful things about sampling vintage perfumes. Time has taken the knick-knacks out of the room so that the elegant design and craftsmanship of its furnishings and architecture are revealed. Nuit de Noel is a beautifully crafted and very wearable fragrance for a lover of vintage chypre-type fragrances.

I just get all the notes in this wonderful scent starting with the Jasmine, then Ylang Ylang the rose and so on. I love the amber underneath the creamy floral - it just reeks class and dressing up in your best - this is a very classy fragrance and in some ways does remind me of Christmas - obviously to do with the dressing up part and the fragrance! But for me there is more than that - this isn't something my mother would wear (heck I had to forcefeed her perfume) - but it does remind me of being very small and watching for santa over the snow covered field - there is something very past about this fragrance - but I cannot put my finger on it at all. I am a Caron fan and I bought this blind after reading the reviews on here - and I am very glad I did - one for the deepest winter and definitely for Christmas! Warming, alluring, enrobing! Great silage and long lasting! 5*

WARNING! The GIANT OAKMOSS THAT ATE RHODE ISLAND is on the loose!!!!! In all seriousness, Nuit de Noel is a mature delight. It is heavy on the oakmoss, but as I am especially fond of that accord, I do not fear the giant oakmoss, but instead embrace it. I was quite fortunate to obtain a vintage partially-full bottle at a tag sale, for only 50 cents. (Apparently, the newer formulation is not hugely different, according to the reviews.) It opens with a blast of ylang-ylang, then the oakmoss (with a woodsy touch) takes over. The drydown is a musky incense. I do detect hints of rose and jasmine, but they are not at all sweet. This fragrance is slightly bitter, actually, in a pleasant way. Longevity is impressive, while the sillage is moderate. Initially the sillage is almost overpowering, but then it quiets down considerably.

This fragrance is magical. haunting, and it just elevates you to a higher realm. Thank goodness the new formula still captures the magic of the original one. Created by one of the great alchemist of essence: Ernest Daltroff. Please, please forget that its name is translated to the night before Christmas. It will make you think of pine trees, gingerbread, apple pie. But no, Daltroff was French, and lived in France in the early 1900's. He probably , IMO, was conveying the feeling of the smell of the beloved woman, during that time, in Paris, on such a magical night (Europeans feel that Christmas Eve is the magical time for the adults, Christmas day for the children). To say it's scent is beyond exquisite is an understatement.