Dune

(Bottle c. 1992) It’s 100 degF outside, and I’m wearing Dune EdT. Bold, you say? You bet. But then, so is Dune. Dumb to wear an old school amber on a sweltering day, you say? Nope, I say it isn’t dumb to wear this amber - and neither is Dune dumb. It is bold and highly intelligent in the most ephemeral way. Before I begin, a confession: this isn’t my favorite Dune format. That’s the Esprit de Parfum. See my review on that format if you’re curious. But, honestly, if I had a gun to my head and had to pick my absolute favorite and coherently and logically justify why, I would be sweating bullets. All I can say is that the Esprit is the best characteristics of both the EdT and the Extrait in one, but all three concentrations are works of art that deserve every bit of praise they have ever garnered, and more. Part of the reason for this is that the formats behave in different ways that makes sense for the different concentrations - what a novel concept lost on many of today’s brands! This big and bold amber EdT, for example, on this super-heated day, is actually very well behaved as an EdT should be. Wearing the Extrait or Espirit on a day like today would definitely be ill-advised, but the EdT, no. It can take the heat, it wants the heat, and it sits beautifully on my sun-kissed and slightly sweaty skin like a fine and sticky sand. I certainly know it’s there, like you would any amber in this heat, but, like a fine sand that clings to you, it doesn’t crowd me and instead adds to the mood rather than subtracts. I know Dune in all formats is supposed to evocate bronzed, slightly wet and sticky sand dunes with thick blasts of marine air crashing into me, but - perhaps revealing a bit about my age and interests - I can’t help but think of the movie Dune and the material Spice, that magical golden-orange-bronze, and sparkling substance that commanded the attention and ambitions of worlds of civilizations. Personal timing and nostalgia plays a huge part in my attachment, as it does and should for every perfume connoisseur, but just like the movie the perfume is a sci-fi epic. It is otherworldly and larger than yours or my life experience. That blast of fetid salty marine water and oranges at the beginning is startling; you need no more cue than that to know you’re in for a ride. But what follows is heart-wrenchingly commanding: the most gaseous and colorful swirl of white, pink, red, and orange florals you could imagine. If Edmond Roudnitska smelled this before he died I wish I could’ve witnessed his reaction (does anyone know if he did? I’ve never bothered to check.). It surely would’ve knocked the Master of Floral Amalgams right on to his keister. Jasmine swirls quickly in front of you, like the bright white sheet of a specter, backed suddenly by a quick burst of orange light from what I think is orange blossom or a weird lily or marigold, then another plasmatic burst of pink gas from the creamiest rose and lily-of-the-valley combo. All of these florals, like plasma shooting from the surface of the sun, are emanating from a nuclear core made of the richest but most weightless and air-filled amber of benzoin, vanilla, patchouli, and sandalwood. Those moments where that glorious light-show floral heart cedes to the warm but diffusive base is completely transfixing for me. I get lost, and the hair on my arms and neck stand-up like I’m high on the ethereal plasmatic gases Dune puts in my mind’s eye. I’m not wearing Dune, it’s wearing me. It doesn’t care about me and it won’t acknowledge my existence or what I want it to do. The confidence and strength of personality you need to have to successfully wear this perfume is high. For most perfumes this is a negative, but with Dune I am happy to be its source of energy that it uses to release its gorgeous self into the air around me, to swirl through the air and molecularly penetrate everything in its path. How could I not be?

I feel many others here have written fantastically about this scent, so I’ll just add my impression from a newbies perspective. I bought 2 vintage partial 50ml bottles from different sources. I liked the first one and won the backup on an eBay auction. Both bottles smell identical. Opens woody with some citrus and bright soapy aldehydes. Not sweet at all. Feels like the driest slightly bubbly white wine. Maybe getting a touch of peony/florals but super easy to miss as they’re very subtle. Not sensing any patchouli. Not immediately registering as vintage and definitely seems more niche. Unisex 100%. As it dries down, the aldehydes fade and turn powdery, the wood softens and turns a bit warm musky. Starts to feel slightly vintage but not dated, more “classic.” Starts leaning slightly more femme with the powderiness in the drydown but not too much. I get the “sand” impression. I kind of want to try this in the heat. I’d describe it as more of a soft solar woody skin scent. I see zero resemblance to Obsession. Obsession opens with big spice and incense and dries down to the most amazing vanilla cinnamon incense scent on me. I’ve worn it for days on end. It’s warm and sweet and extremely gourmand on my skin like a campfire charred marshmallow floating in an extra spicy chai latte. It has no strong wood notes at all, it’s pure warm spicy sweet. Dune on the other hand has nothing gourmand to it at all. I don’t get the “spices” people refer to in either of my bottles of Dune, aside from them piquing memories and lines from the classic film. Maybe it’s a bit peppery but not in a cinnamon incense way like Obsession. I’d describe the accords for Dune as woody fresh citrus. Perhaps my chemistry is different from others. I don’t think Dior makes scents that work well with my chemistry. Poisons all turned to pure playdoh on my skin, white florals get pissy on me. Any notes that can turn bad on someone will on me, but only if it’s a Dior scent... But I like Dune! Surprise, my first Dior love! It’s strange and fun. I also have been getting more and more into vintage scents and developing an appreciation for them that goes well beyond most newer perfumes. I feel like Dune doesn’t have the chance to do much in cooler weather and can see it becoming more awesome in the sun+heat. I live in a dry windy desert with no humidity, so “sand” scents really have a place to shine here. I can see this smelling sandy. Maybe not creosotes in the rain type of sand, but more so lounging on a teak patio chair in the sun on the beach type of sand. I remember years ago discovering Bronze Goddess Eau Fraiche, a scent that has nothing to do with the OG EDP of this line. When I fell for that scent, people compared it to Dune. While not a dupe at all, there is a similar dominant woodsy note and sandy vibe that defines both scents. However, BGEF has a lot of citrus in the top notes, doesn’t really have an aldehyde note that I can recall/sticks out, and stays pretty woody without turning powdery. I’d say BGEF is the only scent I’ve ever come across that smells anything like Dune. It’s still quite different though. Overall I do love it. It’s a bit strange and definitely something I will need to be in the mood to wear, but the same is true for most of my collection. I wouldn’t blind buy this if you’re on a budget, but I would recommend sampling this for every fraghead and lover of vintage scents.

Dior Dune is the ONE fragrance that the current version does not quite live up to my memory from the 90s. I believe this could partially be due to the fact that the one I remember from the 90s was an edp?... back then, I thought it was simply the most beautiful, almost mystical scent. But it was ruined by a family friend who must have bathed in it. I’m not kidding, you could smell her approaching from afar, before you could even see her. After that, I stopped sneaking sprays from my mom’s bottle, and my mom even stopped wearing it as everyone was so offended by Betty-Ann. It was just too much! But I do remember before she ruined it, that it was the prettiest thing to me. Definitely too mature for my teen self, but I didn’t care. I loved it. So when I tried the current edt version, I was disappointed. It seemed to lack that something special that I can’t even put into words. And I sought out a vintage sample to compare, but that too was edt and same story. I cannot describe the difference, but to me, it’s there. I have always sort of rolled my eyes at people who claime that current versions are a shell of their former selves. But now I get it, although I do realize that this could be in part to faulty memory. The way I idolized a scent, and the changes and developments to my own nose over time. It may not be as big of a change as my mind says it is. But there is a lack of depth, if I were to try to explain it. And in addition to that, a greatly reduced longevity... and maybe strength too. I recall Dior dune lasting all day and projecting a ton. When I sprayed, or my mom did, we did so sparingly and it was still a noticeable scent to others. When Betty Ann sprayed, she did so generously and committed olfactory assault to all those around her. All of these statements aside, to speak of how I now feel about the current Dior Dune Edt... I do still find it to be incredibly beautiful, incredibly feminine, and they just don’t make scent profiles like this anymore. While I do also enjoy modern offerings, it can get a bit annoying to find that the majority of scents are just sweets overloads. Cupcakes, whipped cream, cotton candy, praline... it seems that the sophisticated and mysterious scents are all getting the axe. Dune is special. Even this modern version. It is sophisticated, timeless, feminine, and just beautiful. I wish it lasted longer, I get around 3 hrs with it. Maybe a little more if I spray my clothes. But I will still take it. I do wish they still made perfumes like this. It’s very sad to see Dior letting go of this one.

Sandy Early '90s Desert Dream with Driftwood... 1991 Vintage Sandy BRAZILIAN ROSEWOOD Gem by Dominique Ropion, Jean-Louis Sieuzac & Nejia Barbir. The younger sister of Scheherazade of One Thousand and One Nights, whose name was Dunyazad, fits the mood here - something I could imagine being worn in The Mummy (1999), or Sahara (2005). As if wearing this you could discover lost treasure or the mysteries of Egypt. In the first couple of minutes before the spray dries, I can feel the spicy citrus notes. Once the spray dries and the sillage starts to open up, I can feel the blend of aldehydes & Brazilian Rosewood, with citruses in the background. The woody-aldehyde blend does evoke a sand dune and driftwood (but not beachy) in my imagination. As it transitions into the heart, more floral tones emerge with soft near-lilac & faint licorice-y tones from jasmine, lily & patchouli swelling through, while rose supports the Brazilian Rosewood accord. Everything is beautifully blended, but as it's drying down, overall I get a Brazilian Rosewood scent with the other notes serving to support its different facets. It gets sweeter the longer it's on the skin, with faint near-cinnamon, licorice-y, rosy-floral & vanilla-woods facets. The faint near-cinnamon facets also echo the sand dune vibe that was initially evoked with aldehyde-rosewood. This has above average performance that becomes excellent with dark storage after the first sprays. Overall: gorgeous sandy Brazilian Rosewood scent with aldehydes & near-cinnamon. It's a love for me. 10/10. Enjoy! Contrast to Roma Laura Biagiotti: These are different, and Roma came out 3 year prior to Dune, but there are striking similarities with citrus, amber, sandalwood, oakmoss & vanilla, although Roma doesn't evoke sand in the way that Dune does. Dune had the woody accord more forward, with the addition of aldehydes in the opening & near-cinnamon in the drydown that give a dry, sandy feel. Roma has the citrus and amber accords more forward, but the combination of myrrh-rose-sandalwood in the drydown Roma has some parallels to the Brazilian Rosewood in Dune Both have above average performance that becomes excellent with dark storage after first sprays. Update 03/18/25: This has gotten a lot more woody (although it was already quite woody), with that Dior woody accord that to my nose smells like a mix of sandalwood, cinnamon & almond paste. As it dries down it gets quite amber-y as well. Love it still.

I think I am on my fourth bottle of this in my life! It’s kind of old fashioned but it packs a punch and I love that it’s strong and not all flowers. It's complex and I have never even tried to figure out what is so special about it, but now that we have fragrantica I can look up the notes! I do like most Dior perfumes. They last a long time. Or at least they did, I think I bought my last bottle of Dune in 2015 or 2016. ------------------- I have delved deep into the Dune obsessed frag head world and discovered based on batch codes that my old bottle was probably from 2014. I do think the juice has kind of turned a bit and I hadn't been wearing it much. BUT I JUST GOT A NEW BOTTLE!! Yay. What a whole saga, needless to say, I firstly got one from a dilapidated Macy's and ended up not feeling good about it. They gave me zero samples and put it in a brown paper lunch bag, not even a little cute handle bag, they are on their last legs at that store. I don't spend 130$ on fragrance very often and it felt kinda sad. -------- I decided to order my bottle directly from Dior, it was 150$, but it came with three samples and a beautiful box and I just felt better about the whole experience. The new bottle does seem weaker, or doesn't last as long. My old bottle could be ten years old at this point, and has definitely darker juice and probably concentrated. I do think they changed a lot of formulas in the last ten years too. Even with the new formula I still love this scent. It has always been impossible for me to identify what it smells like, but it is warm and spicy and fresh all at the same time. A bit vintage, but it was always vintage-y even when it was first released. When everyone was wearing fruity florals or whatever back in 2002 someone gave me my first bottle. I didn't have many perfumes but remember wearing it and getting so many complements that it became my signature. I was a smoker and I would spray it in my hair! This is one of the only scents I have ever owned more than one bottle of. Why buy something you already had when there are so many great scents out there? Well, sometimes you just feel a special kinda way about it and this is the way I feel about Dune! This is a classic and if you're thinking about getting a bottle...do it!

when Luca Turin said this was the main contender for Miss Bleakest Perfume Ever, I did not believe him, and frankly I get it in a way. there’s something so elegantly sexy and yet foreboding about this fragrance. when I spray this, I feel this elevation to another plane of cunty existence, like when I use womanity. the spray hits in this sort of arid heat. sun dried, if you will. something woody and acrid hits my nose, and I’m transported to the La Paz Sand Dunes or Sylt’s beaches. there’s a certain saltiness that just feels weird to classify as just a seaweed salt or a skin sweat salt, as weird as it sounds. it honestly takes me to both the arid heat of Munich and the blazing winter sun of the Gobi. aldehydes rule for a hot hot second, but are more of the crackling ozone hotspot kind of aldehydes instead of fatty, wet soap aldehydes. I can’t even tell where the drydown ends or begins. it’s just a billowing dune. I’ve had recurring dreams of this terrifyingly gorgeous figure, always appearing in a theatrical white void filled with paper-white plants. a giant foreboding woman that sometimes manifests as a sleep paralysis figure with impossible anatomy, wings, and a shimmer of heat (with built in heels of course. I’m an anxious diva.) dune is what I expect her to wear. warm, elegant, but also slightly foreboding and dare I say bleak. it’s not the warm spice bombs that are opium or obsession, no no, it’s spicy but in an “air dried like a salted fish on a cold clothesline kind of spice” way. it’s so similar yet so different to my 90s spice bomb perfumes, and I’m in love. I’ve worn this to many performances and work shifts, and I’ve had women in designer bags smell me when I pass by and always look like I’ve been enveloped by a sunray like a horrifying angel. it’s now a staple in my perfume closet, so RIP MY WALLET. final verdict: this represents another side of “filipina diwata thrown into the modern world” persona. like her enveloped by the sun. works really well in clubs provided you serve major cunt.

[900] I have a memory of being brought to a blustery beach on the west coast of Ireland as a small child, and being so hungry on arrival, that I found myself wondering what sand tastes like. Against better judgement, I sampled some from the dunes as we made our way down to the beach. Dune brought this memory back, complete with crouching down behind marram grass trying to spit out the grainy, mineral sand. Dune smells how this sand tasted (in the very best way). A big, spicy-woody dry oriental that feels original, Dune is an aptly-named moody take on a beachy scent. The bottle also reflects its theme, rounded and reflective like evening sunlight shining down on sand dunes. Aside from certain (pricy) scents from the upscale Maison line, recent releases from Dior have been lacklustre. Dune, a mass-market designer scent from the 1990s, exceeds many of today's niche/private line collections. I have a vintage miniature from the noughties, and it is a remarkable piece of work. Although it is still in production, I wonder how much of the original formula has changed. Dune opens with woody notes from initial spray, natural and aromatic, almost tree-like. Aldehydes adds soapy brightness, while citrus adds some freshness. Powdery florals follow closely, sweet and tropical, but refreshingly relegated to the background. Soft spicy notes become more prominent as it develops, enhancing the dry woodiness and soft florals to perfection. The musky amber base comes to the fore as it dries down, sweet, dry and resinous, punctuated by some earthy patchouli. It fades to a musky, woody skin scent with so.e spices remaining until final fade. Sillage is moderate and longevity is long-lasting. Feminine-leaning in my opinion, this is a summer-to-autumn daytime scent. There is a fresh airiness to Dune, and a dryness that permeates it that is satisfyingly on theme. It has an unusual freshness despite its scent profile, and is moody despite its initial brightness. Dune is unlike anything else I've tried. A masterpiece. 5/5.

I'm an not a fan of 90s fragrance as a whole, but thought I'd give Dune a spin as the notes included most of what my nose gravitates towards DNA-wise. The reviews for this fragrance tout it as an icon in vintage perfumery, so I had to see what all the fuss was about and sampled the current formulation just in time for spring. My nose really liked it! A playful and breathy spring floral bouquet that doesn't go 90s fruity, creamy sandalwood and amber, reverent resins, musk, a whisper of vanilla to soften and ground the composition. A bit of powder but it's gentle and supportive, and no soap from the aldehydes to which I'm relieved. This version reminds me a bit of 80s Samsara but less woody/musky. I could've invested in this formula....but I went on the hunt for her previous incarnation. I found a 50ml vintage bottle with the original glass dabber for a freaking steal and had to pick it up. When it arrived in packaging that eminated the sour aura of a geriatric smoker I got nervous. I wiped the bottle down, removing what was likely many years of second hand nicotine, all the while completely enamored with the cherry colored juice swirling around inside the beautifully iridescent bottle. Then, I made the brave decision to just wear the damn thing like she was my own, skin reaction be dammed. I wanted to encircle myself and earnestly experience this fragrance, go all-in, and hopefully step into a sliver of the past. I was not disappointed. The vintage formulation is so much more rich and deep, the spring floral is still there but is slightly less prominent. A balsamic note comes forward, the musk sinks deeper, the rosewood becomes slightly shaper. She is more mature, more sexy, but still playful and full of fervor. I'm so glad I took a chance on Dune...and so fortunate that I now have a beautiful original bottle in my collection. Absolutely lovely. 9.5/10

Surprisingly beautiful on paper, even in the current formulation. I just bought a travel sprayer, and I'm afraid I do not understand the standard line that this is a bleak and uncompromising, arid, desertlike fragrance. Maybe I don't understand the desert, but this is lovely, fresh, and subtly aromatic-woody with intriguing balsamic and floral overtones. I do get a slightly salty ozonic aspect, and I'm not sure what wallflower smells like (although the Bob Dylan song runs through my head reliably). I don't know what Dune for men smells like, but to my nose this formulation of Dune for women is perfectly unisex. It gives a little Restoration Hardware/aspirational yuppie vibes, but I mean that as no slight. It's not like anyone would rather smell like a gas station or a Walmart. I haven't tried this on my skin yet, but I think it would be a great choice for the hot weather. Update: Wearing this on my skin for the past several hours (I put some one at night and topped up this morning), I am starting to understand why this can be perceived as strange, although it's not at all offputting-strange--more like intriguing-strange. The rosewood is very dominant, along with salted resins and an unfamiliar, vaguely spicy floral that I think might be the wallflower. I don't remember smelling this much in the early '90s, but I didn't know many perfume fans back then. I don't think this smells at all dated--if anything, I think noses accustomed to MFK and Tom Ford and the like will be better able to deal with the more polarizing aspects of this fragrance. I don't have a vintage formulation, just a decant from Fragrance Net in a travel sprayer, and dear lord is it strong for an EDT! I can only imagine what it must have been like back in the early '90s.

Texturally speaking, Dune was unprecedented for the most part—maybe only hinted at by Obsession and Roma Biagiotti in terms of bridging disparate elements. Aliphatic aldehydes and ozonic florals juxtaposed with deep woods and amber, prove effective in capturing the feel of silk and sand, sun and salt, sweet refrains and body heat. I concur with an astute friend of mine, that there is the usage of stemone, a green lactone typically used for a fig accord, along with the ozonic, green marine floral, somewhat new mown hay effect of helional. I also discern something like floralozone, fresh and atmospheric, imparting the breath, the exhalation of white lilies and roses. Most notably, this is one of the most rosewood-forward scents I've encountered, embodying its airy velour feel and sensations of ripples. So I've covered the technical, but, how does it feel? To me, it feels like cool air meeting warm sands, spacious and expansive. I've often joked about fantasy notes in modern niche fragrance, but here, I can't help but to think of wet pebbles or those halfway between dry and wet, in my hand, holding them, rubbing them. Lest we forget: sun, the "solar" feel, the way the heat of the sun pushes away a hot mist and brings out all the once dormant aromatic elements of the landscape. It's like a kaleidoscope of sweet, salty, earthy, grassy, especially as Dune dries into its base, it all merges together spectacularly. The sui generis of Dune would be imitated often, and to this day, its a significant inspiration in modern perfume.

I just ordered a new bottle of Dune from Macy’s before it’s gone for good. After searching here I saw it had been reformulated since I wore and loved the original years ago. So I went to pick it up today and tried the tester to be sure I still loved it as much as the vintage original. I do not. At all. At first the opening was a sharp woody synthetic mess I didn’t even recognize. I thought maybe the tester was off. After about an hour it turned into something similar to the original but it was more of a soft, skin scent than the bolder bomb of Dune I was craving. I decided not to get it and hours later it’s so soft on my arm I can barely detect it. The original used to leap off of my skin, fill the air around me and it lasted for hours and hours at that same level. To be honest, the most recent bottle of Roma by Laura Biagiotti that I purchased last year smells much closer to Dune than the newer Dune itself. It too has been reformulated to meet today’s requirements but somehow it retains its bombastic integrity and lasts much longer on the skin. The dry downs are very similar and the opening of Roma is how I remember Dune to greet me. So before you buy the new one be sure to try it for yourself before you blindly order it. Scent memory is an amazing thing but modern Dune isn’t nearly as memorable as it used to be. Sadly.

@AaronPaul If this smells close to (not exact) like Obsession, for women or men, I'd say you are getting it right, from there it's a matter of personal preference. It's subjective. I have a vintage bottle & mine is perfect. I keep mine well tho, many people leave them sitting out where they can get light into the bottle, or it gets warm in the room. That only works if you fly thru your bottles. I have a large collection, so I do not. If it has a rancid smell, I would say you got a hold of one someone didn't protect. This scent is gorgeous. Think Coromandel, or even le Lion as a reference, if you have ever smelled those. Just a reference, not exact. I have all of these & they are all my special babies. I don't think I need the pure parfum. I did just order a 3.4 oz bottle batch code is from 2020. So I will update when I get it to give my opinion on how close they are. I am not expecting it to be as much of a powerhouse as the my OG one. At this point it's "concentrated" "macerated" & everything else "Ated", but, it hasn't turned. Props to Dior for creating scents that preserve so well! But I have a bone to pick with them about changing Miss Dior...UGHHHHH. I mean, that wasn't a reformulation, that needed a different NAME. See, that makes me made when houses do this. Like we are stupid & won't notice.

a solemnity and stoicism set in stone, cast in iron, and burned into glass. sandalwood and amber intersect with aldehydes and wallflower, creating a distinctive juxtaposition in a scent simultaneously crisp and floral as well as warm and golden. patchouli and benzoin combine deep in the base to provide Dune with a chocolaty, thick richness, while orange and lily maintain a sparkling and natural fizz. these two diametrically opposed ideals intersect in a particularly powdery way. the fragrance is so powdered that it smells gritty. like sand, both warm and stinging, filtering between your toes. the scent of Dune wafts from the pulse points of a dignified person on these sand dunes, accommodating for their nebulous balance on the sand with an almost nimble and dainty dancer's grace that comes only from one familiar with the climate. there is heat billowing around them, yet their golden skin gleans with no sweat and their breath is not labored. they are hunted and haunted by whatever it is that brought them to this, this particularly isolated desert. the oppression of the heat as it bounces off the homogenous surroundings is worth it when delivered with such a freeing solitude. on this dune, their voice will not be heard like their footsteps are seen.

Beginning it all with a fragrance loved most ardently upon first try many months back. I do my best to avoid designer fragrances for I am an idiot-type snob and pleased with it, but Surrender to Chance but this little vial in my beautiful little box knowing or perhaps not that I could and would fall a little bit in love with it despite... Only just applied and the very first words are dry, spicy, and warm, but there is so much more beyond what those three words can convey. It is not particularly demonstrative; it feels elegant in a Talitha Getty-esque manner, perhaps, though somewhat restrained. It remains positively gracious and pleasing, but everywhere I find a hint of something more. A kind of perfection in this. Mature but by no means dated, sweet but by no means saccharine, balsamic and resinous with a faintly earthly, grounded floral impression. I am reminded only slightly of Marrakech, or somplace similar where never I have been. There’s something the slightest animalic and bodily in it, just barely there, similar to that earthly impression. I am always sad when a sample comes with a stick applicator as opposed to an atomizer. Projection hindered, every time absolutely. But this is a special one. A one-I-could-wear-everyday one.

Dune, personified, is a woman who appears to you in a dream. It's a blurred, foggy dream, and her surroundings are in disarray, perhaps moving around her, but you can clearly make out her eyes looking into you. There is light in the background, but also darkness. The woman's demeanor is stoic, until you notice she is ready to say something to you... And abruptly, the dream ends. However, the vision of her face, which was fixtured in the center of the surreal chaos, is haunting you. You find yourself longing for her unspoken wisdom, to know her, to see her again in another dream. It was all frustratingly inconclusive, but unforgettable. I love Dune. Understanding her is not necessary; she simply wants you to marvel at her elusive mystery. I have a vintage formulation, which I had planned on buying for YEARS. Finally, I bit the bullet and grabbed one from ebay. There's a lot going on with this fragrance that I can't even begin to pick out individually. The thing is, it's all so well-orchestrated that you can just forget the individual notes. Just enjoy Dune's aura as a whole. Dune is uniquely timeless and is not at all "dated" smelling like other fragrance offerings from the late 80's/early 90's.

This does in many ways remind me of Allure by Chanel, but while Allure is quite a straightforward, easy-going scent, Dune is incredibly complex, abstract, strange and almost impossible to describe. You simply have to smell it for yourself. It's like nothing else ever created. I think I'm definitely in the minority here, but I actually prefer the reformulation to the vintage. The vintage is much more heavy on the oakmoss, and oakmoss is a note that tends to smell absolutely awful on my skin, kind of like rusty metal. The reformulation has just a slight hint of oakmoss, but it definitely doesn't dominate the fragrance. And I think it's still similar enough to the vintage to be instantly recognisable as Dune. While tobacco is not listed as a note here, I feel like I can smell it. It doesn't smell like smoke or like an ashtray, but more like unsmoked cigarettes, which, as an ex-smoker, is a smell I actually love. I don't find this fragrance to smell sad or lonely as some do; I find it warm and comforting, though at the same time almost a little unsettling simply because of how strange and abstract it is. It almost feels like it's an echo from a dream world, and not of this world at all.

This is my number two ride-or-die. It is difficult to describe, which is why most reviews are all over the map. The name suggests beach to so many people, but if you’re expecting coconut and suntan lotion, you'll be disappointed. If my life depended on a description, I wouldn't say beachy. But warm, sandy and elegant is a good place start. I'm not nuts about the first five minutes. It hits you with sharp citrus and bitter bergamot. It's almost harsh. But then it settles into a subtle scent of hot sand (think Sahara, not Miami). It smells like Brazilian rosewood and glowing amber. It's dry, warm and wraps around you without suffocating you. It's very calming. So yes, "Dune." It's perfect for professional or formal settings. It's dignified, unique, completely unobtrusive, and good for any occasion. Honestly, it smells so good, I'll wear it while vacuuming the den. It's just that versatile. I get SO MANY genuine compliments when I wear this. People seem surprised, or even taken off guard by it. You can see them processing the scent with a deep breath in real-time before telling me how very much they like it. Folks, this stuff is magical.

Having finally gotten my hands on a bottle of the new formulation of Dune (reformulated in 2001), I can understand why Christian Dior has decided to discontinue it. Sadly, the new formulation is barely a very pale reflection of the original and smells enough like every other powdery, woody amber scent out there as to blend into the crowd entirely. Since they can no longer produce the original formulation, it’s better to just let it go than do it half way. That said, I have begun to actively collect bottles of the original formulation, which is definitely my favorite man made scent! The original formulation is indescribable beyond saying that it smells like sunset on the beach on the Redwood Coast of California after a hot, dry day when the wind begins to shift to blow in from the ocean. For personal reasons, it also smells like Victory to me (yes, with the capital ‘V’) and I love it almost as much for that as the way it immediately transports me back to favorite places and memories from my childhood. It’s a shame the original formulation had to be changed, it is worth paying more for it.

Alright, folks. Dune is one of my desert island, end of the world, save-in-a-fire favorites, and we need to clear some things up. It’s not discontinued. It’s not been ruined by reformulation. (I have several vintage and current bottles, and despite some differences, the modern Dune is still a stunner.) It’s as good as anything on the shelves in 2023, if not better. A serene scent for sensualists, wallflowers, deep thinkers, or those just pretending to be. Dune is that quiet corner of the room where there’s an open window welcoming a warm breeze; where you can collect your thoughts and feel present in the moment. It's arguably the best mainstream sandalwood perfume, Samsara be damned and Tam Dao be overrated. It's somehow both creamy and fresh, spicy and smooth, grounded and dreamlike, zen with a pulse. And until Dior themselves - not your local department store or “insider” or hysterical aunt - deny its existence, and the discount sites run dry, Dune is very much alive and well and ready to be experienced. Whether you vibe with it or not, it will be an education. Do yourself a favor.

it's really hard to compete with the prior poetic comment from Zamora, so I won't try! :) It's the first time I have worn Dune, ever. I was certainly around in the late 80's/90's, well, at least, that was when I was old enough and employed enough to buy perfume. Dune EDT smells very much to me like Chanel's Egoiste did, back in the day. It is as though the team at Dior opened a bottle of Egoiste, threw in a few extra flowers, and called it job done! Dune is a beautiful smell. It smells of understated and elegant good manners, good upbringing, money, silk, and privilege, but a *knowing* one. Not a cheap, loud, or pretentious one. This is understated elegance, done right. This is to the manor born. Absolute true class. Timeless, suitable for just about all occasions, as appealing, in a subtle way, that it could ever be possible to be. I ordered a second back up bottle today, after the first time application from my first bottle. That should say something! I could bathe in it. It's beautiful. It's all you could want from an elegant and timeless personal signature. Love!