Mandragore

This review is based on Eau de Toilette concentration. The initial blast of Mandragore contains a lot of bergamot, very refreshing and energetic. The citrus soon hides away as a supporting role and reveals a combination of anise, mint and ginger. It's green, fresh, reviving, zesty and sparkling. I was overwhelmed by this phase as this combination of spices which is usually thick, actually delivers such an unusually translucent scent. However, this phase doesn't hold up very long and it soon was taken over by a spicy and earthy scent. The spices are still the same as above, but no longer freshly picked. They're dried and their ultimate spiciness are sublimed. Interestingly the fragrance remains ethereal even at this stage. Unfortunately, Mandragore turns bland and watery afterwards, and loses its vivacity and strength. It was soft at the beginning and now it stays extremely close to skin. It dies after about 4 or 5 hours on me, which is weak among those I tried from Annick Goutal. Mandragore, in contrary to the prune bottle and the mysterious name, is actually green to my nose. I appreciate the aromatic and spicy stages towards the beginning very much. However, these interesting stages doesn't last long (about 1 hour) and the fragrance itself either, which implies frequent reapplication to me. I'm curious if EDP would suit me better. Nontheless, this should not hold you back from trying it. This green aromatic fragrance, lasting or not, has a very interesting twist that can hardly be described, but to be experienced by oneself.

I am somewhat biased toward Annick Goutal fragrances, but I waited a while before trying Mandragore. Why did I wait? One reason: Anise. I really like star anise in my tea in the autumn, and I put some in the stock pot when making chicken stock, but otherwise I really don't like the scent of anise on my skin. It's far too foodic, and doesn't alter much from itself the way that other spices do, such as cardamon or caraway. BUT, then, I gave it a try. Again, I'm amazed at what Annick Goutal can do. They've managed to take pepper and anise and marry them in a dry, linear couplet that is as natural as pepper and salt. It's a really miraculous scent, at so many turns spicy, warm, cool, firey, even slightly aquatic. The opening is a fantastic pepper & lime blast, followed by the entrance of star anise with a fizzy top of mint, and ending with a warmer anise and slight bit of cypress. The only complaint I have is that the scent stays very close to the skin, and is a very light. Of course many of Annick Goutal's fragrances are light (it seems to be part of the general ambiance of the house,) so it requires quite a few sprays to really get the full effect of the fragrance. In spite of that, it's an incredible creation: Proof that a note that you formerly didn't love can transform into something wonderful.

"Neither the poppy, nor the mandrake, nor all the narcotic syrups in the world will medically give you back that sweet dream you had yesterday." William Shakespeare, Othello (1604), III, 3 Mandragore is a magical interpretation of the mandrake, a mysterious plant surrounded by legends. Used since ancient times in magical and medicinal rituals by sorcerers and witches. This fascinating fragrance opens explosively, fresh and bright. Aromatic and spicy. The florality of bergamot gives way to a herbal heart with minty freshness, small hints of citrus and gently camphor. Followed by the warmth provided by the star anise and something powdery that the iris provides to the entire beautiful composition. As the hours go by it becomes slightly woody and gently drier with a delicate clean smell, blending beautifully into my skin and enveloping me in an aura of neatness. The substantivity on my skin reaches 12 hours, and even I still smell it the next day on my skin, with moderate diffusion. I'm trying to judge if Mandragore is retro and I'll say no. It is classic, in the best traditions of cologne fragrances, completely unisex. Apparently simple composition, but very refined. Goutal knows how to make perfumes in which nature does not smell of farm, but of luxury.

I've had my bottle of this for 10 or 11 years, and I can actually remember the time I bought it. It's unfortunate, because I've actually boxed this up, and transported this perfume more times than I've worn it, which is a pity. It was one of my first obscure mainstream-niche brands I sampled, and this was a love at first sniff. And I'm glad to see that I love this today just as much as I did when I first bought it way back when. I am immediately enveloped by a non-biting black-pepper and aniseed -- the citrus does effectively balance the two pungent spicy notes, but there is something else in the background that I cannot discern that carries this scent forward. Something kind of woody, kind of resiney, I really cannot pick what it is! Whatever it is, I am a big fan of the role this plays in the scent because it ties the 3 aforementioned notes together and makes the scent really pop. It just comes together, I feel, and if I'm being honest, I feel this is unique enough to appeal to people looking for oddball scents, but at the same time it's not an alienating scent. Definitely one to try. I love this one as much as I did in 2014...

This is THE hot weather fragrance for me. The note I get far and away the strongest is bergamot, which I love dearly. The other notes exist simply to support the bergamot to me, even the star anise and pepper. This combination gives it the effect of a long lasting (relatively speaking) freshie, since I get a decent few hours out of it on skin and more on clothes. There is no musk or vanilla in the drydown, so it maintains its herbaceousness all the way through until it's gone completely. In some ways it feels like a tea fragrance, but there's no sweetness or creaminess. It's old-fashioned in a way but also minimal and modern. It's perfectly unisex and impossible to label, it's just ✨Mandragore✨. This fragrance is too precious to me to be spritzing like a body mist but it serves that function, as a refresher when I'm feeling a little wilted. This is the only fragrance in my collection that I have actually managed to finish (only took 15 years 😅) but luckily I was able to snag a backup for a reasonable price.