Mahora

Wow, wow, wow. My friend Sarah--most precious perfume pen pal!--sent me a vial of this vintage baby, and it blew my mind. At first application, I smelled a kind of complex mossy chypre scent that reminded me of Mitsouko--and then came a teensy touch of a minty, mentholated smell (not entirely unlike the anise in Mitsouko, L'Heure Bleue, and other early Guerlains), only that peculiar accord quickly revealed itself to be a very loud, very hyperrealistic tuberose. I happen to love tuberose, and it doesn't smell meaty or rancid or indolic to me, thank goodness--it's just a very assertive tuberose, a bit like if that peach in Mitsouko turned into a tuberose and then took over Tokyo. I do smell some almond blossom and jasmine, at which point Mahora reminds me the tiniest bit of YSL Cinéma, but that one is much sweeter and richer. This is more like a tuberose chypre, in the way that Diva and Knowing are rose chypres, except rose and tuberose are about as different as two flowers can be. I imagine that fans of Tubereuse criminelle and Fracas and other "in your face" tuberose frags would enjoy this, but this tuberose is, while clearly dominant, not the most interesting thing to me about Mahora. I don't even know how to describe Mahora, other than beautiful, potent, and weird. When I first put it on, I could smell the ylang-ylang and vetiver in the forefront, which reminded me of Ysatis and White Diamonds (pure parfum form, which seems to contain more ylang-ylang), but those are sweeter and less distinctive. I put on Mahora after my shower last night, and I got into bed, and then I didn't want to fall asleep because the fragrance kept changing. The drydown is the most beautiful part of all if you are fond of sandalwood. The drydown gives me a bit of the Samsara feeling, which is the most wonderful feeling of all: a clean, powdery, woody, balsamic scent bubble. It's a shame Guerlain discontinued Mahora, but maybe it was just too difficult to recreate now in accordance with IFRA regulations. If you are a fan of tuberose and chypres, track down a vintage bottle while they're still relatively affordable. And yes, I know that this is not classified as a chypre--it's a floral amber--but the bitter almond, the "green notes," and most of all the vetiver come through so strongly on my skin that I consider it chypresque at least. Thank you so much, Sarah, if you are reading this. You are my fragrance sherpa! I'm going to be huffing my inner elbows all day long.

I currently have a partial extrait bottle of this (it's even weirder than the EDP bottle, as a surprisingly heavy gold disc with a glass core and a dabber that slots in from the side). I suspect the loss of fragrance from this has been due to evaporation, but I digress. The extrait smells much the same as the EDP to my nose but perhaps marginally richer, I'll write my review here for the overall profile. Mahora (2000) I think was an attempt to reproduce the immense and intense success of its predecessor Samsara (1989), and as such follows in the yellow floral + sandalwood vein. Here there's a giant tuberose joining in on the party, and the sandalwood in the base has been tempered by some synthetic to make it even richer, more buttery and dare I say "harsher" - I get tons of white musk in this when I concentrate and sniff carefully. The unrelenting, frenzied nature of Mahora has been likened to bug spray, but it's actually closer to the smell of living bugs to my nose (metaphorically speaking). There's a heavy swarming-with-life quality to Mahora's floral-wood-vanilla, butter-and-sunscreen smell. To my mind it actually conjures the scent of a veteran survivor on a deserted tropical island, muscular, glistening with sweat and wearing threadbare grey rags (man or woman) or of a hive of rare tropical bees orgiastically blasting through grove after grove of tuberose flowers under a red-giant sun. Fruit is rotting about the place, but it only adds to the drug-like excitement. It's more ripe than fresh, but to my nose it's genuinely delicious from the first swab to the finish hours later. It's so quintessentially a Guerlain perfume: trashy to the extreme but pairing a giant floral onto a powdery vanilla dry down, and has the enormity and vortexesque quality of fragrances such as Chamade and Nahema. This is a beauty who is a bit camp, overdone, with too much makeup on, but thinks of herself as giving the full Venusian fantasy - and her adorable non-awareness of the almost ridiculousness of it all somehow makes it work, makes it fun. From heat to flowers I think Mahora is a masterpiece, and hope they will one day bring it back (as it was temporarily as Mayotte) for the fans to enjoy. I'd snap up several.

Guerlain mahora was a blindbuy for me,I doubted I would like it,cause classic white florals often tend to be cloying and boring for me,but I assumed this classic guerlain as a work of art,I love to buy classics,whether they are wearable or not,I appreciate their history,their art,their complexity,just as we enjoy an artistic painting Initial spray seemed like a great failure..I could smell a mishmash of white florals with a watery,green undertone which turned sourish on my skin,ughhh,maybe it was a blend of tuberose with citrus notes..I moved on and let it to settle down on my skin,as it's heart started to open,I started to love it,it wasn't sour anymore,I could smell a heady white floral bouquet,creamy indolic tuberose,some jasmine and neroli,some oily ylang-ylang with lots of almond blossom...almond,gave a lovely powdery edge to buttery florals,it's delicious bitterness doesn't let tuberose to become sweet in a flat boring way Unfortunately middle notes which I really love,don't last long and mahora dries down to a creamy tuberose,vanilla,sandalwood,soft and gorgeous,but not unique My overall feelings towards mahora is that I really like it,but I don't love it,if middle notes lasted longer it may become a love for me,it's a bright and very well balanced tuberose scent,there is a freshness in it that prevents it from becoming cloying.. So it's not cloying,too sweet or too oily as most tuberose scents,I don't find it a fragrance for older ages,indeed it's wearable for all age groups in the case that you like a tropical summery tuberose scent I expected mahora to be much more heady and strong,a sillage monster,but it's not..on my skin it's a soft,fresh tuberose scent that lingers for couple of hours as a skinscent,albeit sillage is really strong in first hour,when it's almondy and powdery but then sillage lowers I don't know of there was a reformulation to change a he sillage monster classic mahora to this soft,modern lotion like one I should mention that I love it's bottle,it's very vintage like and interesting,I expected to see such bottle in museum! ❤❤❤❤

As I write this, it's a foggy day in New England, and for all the talk that Mahora is a tropical, beachy fragrance sending wearers to distant, exotic locales, for me, it matches the mood of the brume outside. The tuberose actually suggests an unsettling chill, mentholated and beautifully wan, ghostly like the white flowers themselves, but immediately after it announces itself, there is a bitter green almond, spine-shivering, eyes peering. There is no Tiki bar, there are no paper mache umbrellas. Perhaps something under the surface rises that reminds one for a moment of banana daiquiri in the form of over-ripened ylang ylang. But this grows more than intoxicating, it is buttery blossoms bursting, soon decaying and rotting, enfolding and collapsing as mushrooms do when they are past maturity. This is a moodier creation than what Guerlain even anticipated, it's as if Mahora is a Frankenstein that refused to be caged in its assigned raison d'etre. It's dark and brooding, wearing a cloak in the thick fog, stealing spirits like a thief in the night. It has that same mysterious poignancy I get from Magie Noire; it's the same feeling I get when I listen to Terry Riley, a continuous dissonance resolving into the consonance and then the cycle repeats. Sweet facades concealing decaying interiors, cauldrons with who knows what floating in the bubbling brew, questions that probably shouldn't deserve answers, this is what I feel when wearing Mahora. Does this mean I enjoy wearing it? Absolutely. It's much like watching a film on the human condition: you squirm and perspire just a bit, but you feel satisfied, even liberated somewhat, by letting the truth unfold as the fog settles—like the vibrant white and yellow flowers destined for browning, decomposition, and departure. Exit scene.

Oh me I'm so afraid to comment about it because I have some crazy friends around here, who already hunt me... on hell I was joking I don't give a damn 😂. It's the only Guerlain perfume I LOVE, it is not necessarily a feminist perfume because it lacks a single note to be, verticality, even if it starts promisingly, the vanilla at the end hmm cuts it a bit, but I don't give a damn on that too. It's my guilty pleasure, I never understood why it wasn't appreciated to the true extent....actually, I know why, you need ability to understand this scent...ops I D I A😏... Returning to the perfume, indolic, nonindolic, it's a gem, it's a white perfume by definition, that tuberose smells DIVINE, is a combination of green with white and some orange, it's like making a bouquet of tuberose, with jasmine over which you throw a liter of orange juice, and finally grind ylang ylang over together with roasted walnuts in essence of vanilla. BEAUTIFUL! I can't say it's a gourmand because it doesn't arouse such a thing as lust, it is the kind of perfume that puts you in the a fragrance blanket and you feel the need to constantly smell your skin. It's hot too. It's the scent I wear on walks, usually in Prague because it seems to fit the atmosphere, but not only. Unfortunately, I only have two bottles of this vintage scent left, the perfume reintroduced in the exclusive collection although it is clearly the same, it seems to me that it does not have this orange so well defined and it is a pity. And yes, it gets you off your feet, if you spray a lot, it hit both you and those who pass by, so...drip it lightly.

It's been more than a year that I have a 1oz bottle of mahora in my collection.we had a lot of ups and downs and my feelings toward it has changed several times.couple of months ago I reached to the point of hating it.it smelled like rotten flowers,like a bouquet of tuberose left in a glass of water for a very long time,and rotten,sourish fruits and with zero sillage.I even wanted to give it away but finally decided to keep it for the sake of it's lovely bottle(however it's automizer stopped working properly after a fews sprays)..but things started to change when giving it another chance in warmer weather I have a spray of it on back of my hand right now that I'm writing and I have to confess that I love it! It acts so wierd on my skin on the dead of winter but in a sunny spring day like today,it's amazing.I'm so glad that I kept it. Now I can smell buttery tuberose and some ylangylang,lots of almond,sandalwood,a little vanilla and a hint of coconut. It's so creamy and lush.delicious in a refined way.it's happy and a little tropical and smells so good that I wish I had a bigger bottle.there's absolutely nothing sour in it anymore.it's sweet,but not sickly and yummy and has good sillage unlike my previous tests but not too strong to the point of getting cloying.I highly believe that if it was produced nowadays,it wouod sell like hot cakes and they'd never discontinue it I highly recommend you to not give up on it easily.the amazing gourgeous powdery,creamy heaven that I'm smelling right now worthes all those struggles

Tuberose has been the heart and soul of a lot of perfumes, by a lot of perfumers, for a long time. There's Fracas (Piguet, 1948), Giorgio (Giorgio Beverly Hills, 1981), Amarige (Givenchy, 1991), Poison (Dior, 1985), Dune (Dior, 1991), and a number of more recent offerings by such diverse houses as Frederic Malle, Serge Lutens, Killian...It's a tricky ingredient. To a lot of people it smells like liquid hell, with aspects of rubber, menthol, and even rotting meat; to others, it is a paradise of smooth, creamy, deep sweetness. What makes it so hard to handle is that it can go from one to the other, for even the most forgiving of noses, in a heartbeat. Thus the Tuberose Question: how do you make a good perfume out of an ingredient that is so willing to bite the hand that feeds it? Guerlain answers by tempering the highly malleable gorgeousness of tuberose with the creamy woodiness of sandalwood, and with the cool and lily-like sweetness of ylang-ylang, and with the mellowness of vanilla (vanilla and the Guerlain aesthetic going together like a hand in a glove). I’ve found that the tuberose in Mahora behaves differently on my skin on different days. Usually I just get the creamy deeps that make me love tuberose so dearly, but sometimes I get intimations of camphor and other scents yet more disquieting. In the end, in the dry down, I’m always rewarded for my patience with something lovely. Mahora was a good answer. I wish it had gotten more love. A six year run wasn’t enough.

Guerlain Mahora I heard the phrase “lightening never strikes the same place twice” when I was little. At the time, it was extremely comforting to me to think that because every day, I walked by a tree that had been scarred by lightening on my way to school. Later in life, I learned that this phrase had a double meaning; it can also mean that the best things in life are sometimes once in a lifetime experiences too, but now I know that is not true. Just as I thought I would never hear a voice as smooth as honey with as much depth as Billie Holiday until I heard Madeline Pyreaux, I thought I would never find a creamy tuberose again like the one in my beloved Fracas until I met Mahora. I have never been so happy to be so wrong. It turns out that sometimes, lightening does strike twice! Fracas is a sexy “red carpet” tuberose, and this one is a warm, cozy candlelight tuberose. The tuberose is creamy and luxurious, deep and just slightly indolic, but not overly so. I get a wave of sultry ylang-ylang in a milky bath of warm almond citrus in the opening. The drydown is a revamped version of the traditional Guerlainade. This one features a creamy almond sandalwood with just a hint of vanilla and jasmine, but the entire time, the creamy tuberose is the star. What Samsara does for creamy jasmine, this one does for creamy tuberose. It’s warm, soft, and vibrant like candlelight in the evening on a tropical beach resort.

We're experiencing yet another heatwave and, in the midst of it, I'm rocking Mahora with abandon - not because I'm an unapologetic alpha disinterested in other people's well-being, but because Mahora deserves to be worn in the summertime! As we all know, Mahora has received lots of bad press since its launch, hence people expect it to be an overwhelmingly strong and long-lasting fragrance, but that's not the case. I'm not saying that Mahora is weak, but it's nothing like those unrepentant Mancera-Montale synthetic bombs. Mahora is sweet, creamy, buttery, balsamic and tropical, yet it is incredibly well structured and absolutely not overwhelming or, heaven forbid, unpleasant. The sweet notes of tuberose, ylang, frangipani, orange and vanilla are perfectly balanced by sandalwood, bitter almond and vetiver. I'm always happy to put it on and I end up receiving tons of compliments. What makes Mahora smell somewhat 'dated' today is that it's a sweet scent without any fruitiness (bar the orange, which is quite subdued). Nowadays young girls are conditioned to enjoy fruity scents from the get-go, and thus they probably get quite surprised when confronted with floral sweetness. But, honestly, nobody should fear Mahora - it's a very nice scent that deserves to be loved, especially when the heat is on.

This is a darker, heavy sexy white floral. White floral-based fragrances are my favorite overall but I find many of them to be summery and light enough for daytime, but this seems more like an evening fragrance to me and can easily be worn in colder months. There is a subtle sweetness from the ylang ylang, and warm creaminess from the vanilla and sandalwood. The fragrance and bottle are reminiscent of late '80s/early '90s so I was shocked to learn this was released in 2000 (or 1999 according to some websites). I discovered Mahora after smelling Mayotte in a Guerlain store and fell in love but didn't buy it because it was quite expensive, being part of the Le Parisiennes line. My husband surprised me with it, and when I found out it was being discontinued, upon further research I learned that this was basically a dupe of Mahora, its predecessor. I ended up finding Mahora online for a good price so I purchased it. Side by side, they are very similar, with Mahora being a fraction of the price. Unfortunately, my Mayotte turned rancid but I still have my Mahora. It's a shame that this was a "bomb" for Guerlain. If it had been released 10 years earlier, or maybe even 10 years later with a different bottle design, I think this could have been much more successful.

This baby Mahora is just real-deal Guerlain to me. Well crafted, strong, lots of changes in character, richly textured, there you have it. At first wearing I was a little scared because the top notes are STRONG. Orange blossom/plumeria under a huge white tuberose/gardenia, complete with that buttery caress that only GOOD tuberose perfumes have. There is vetiver/greenry underlying the top notes that gives it a dark edge, instead of being just a suffusing white floral. This is the strong stage, it lasts a good hour. Step back. I'll just plagiarize everyone else's reviews and agree that the subsequent drydown smells like pressed white flowers, sand, humid tropical air, and a bit of unsweetened vanilla. It wears a lot quieter, and the stage lasts forever. The far drydown is a nice sandalwood musk, a beautiful skinscent. OK this perfume is just perfect for those who enjoy big loud perfumes, especially white/tropical florals--precisely because it does quiet down a bit. So you can enjoy your big perfume at home while getting ready, and by the time you need to go out you won't be projecting across the street. Still past the drydown this has good silage and excellent lasting power (8+ hours) with only 2-4 sprays needed.

A fresh tuberose whiff is paired with a typical Jean Paul Guerlain's green and bitter accord, followed closely by a raw coconut impression and powdery, almost dusty, sweet almonds. Hypnotic Poison on the beach? Not so much, I agree with MissK, in its evolution Mahora shares some feeling with another Dior, Dune: the dry-sweet sensation of woods and vanilla, here accentuated by coconut and almonds and with a basket of white flowers thrown on the hot sands, and the loud character of the composition which manages to be evocative, rather than oppressive. Mahora is definitely sweeter than Dune, and has a suntan lotion feeling to it, thanks to the ylang-ylang, the vanilla and almond/coconut milk. But there is also something burning, if I inhale deeply, that scratches my throath, like swallowing hot sand. All in all a difficult perfume for me to wear, too beachy for winter, too sweet and strong for summer, just like Dune. But so nice, sweet, simple and nostalgic like the "warm and sugared aroma of Ambre Solaire" (Philippe Claudel). PS The commercial by Bruno Aveillan is a thing of beauty as well, unusual and enigmatic, a lonely vestal on a lonely island and her rites and prayers for rain. It suits the fragrance well.

This perfume makes me sad because it is a forceful reminder of how great Guerlain perfumes could be before IFRA decided that sensual adoration of magnificent scents was bad for people's character or morals. This doesn't reach the heights of Mitsouko or L'Heure Bleue but it is soul satisfying and can honestly be called a masterpiece. The EDP opens with a spicy alcoholic note that I finally recognized as the sweet sherry that's made with raisins. As it warms the orange and almond blossom appear and stick around until a dry almost leathery vanilla peeks in to greet the tuberose. Then the oohing and aahing begins... Several hours later I'm marveling at tuberose,almond blossom and vanilla with an underlying spiciness (sandalwood presenting as mace or possibly cardamom). Inadequate words? Rich, heady, grand, prodigal, extravagant, unforgettable, towering. Mahora is discontinued but can still be picked up on eBay and other corners of the internet. Buy a bottle and hide it so you can let your grandchildren experience what it was like when giants crafted perfume. Sillage: medium to close Durability: 5 hours and starting to fade Fabulosity: the top of the scale Price to value: seriously, who cares? 10/10

MAHORA, O MAHORA, how I find you intoxicatingly delicious! This fragrance fits into a special category, apparently used only by me: viscous lusciousness. It seems so thick and substantial, so syrupy but without being sickening. Another member of the viscous lusciousness category is IL BACIO, by Borghese, which apparently many people do not like--it's practically given away for free at TJMAXX!--but which I have consumed gallons of over the course of my adult perfume life. I do, however, understand why some are put off by these heavy, thick, commanding fragrances. They are so very assertive and so unyielding. They blanket you in their lusciousness until you have no choice but to capitulate to their captivating charms. MAHORA is a special fragrance for special occasions, not to be worn every day, for that would be too much (also not a good choice for gifts to the uninitiated, I learned by making that mistake!) Now and then, however, I crave the warmness of the sandalwood, vetiver, ylang-ylang and neroli, the sweetness of the vanilla and almond flowers, lightly tempered by orange and green, all folded together into a sumptuously smooth elixir. In a word: Yum!

When I first received my used bottle of Mahora, I was disappointed. I thought it had turned, because even though I gave it a few spritzes to get rid of any old stuff in the atomizer, it smelled quite literally like tuberose and Scotch whiskey! Quite off putting as you can imagine. I set it aside and tried it today, and whatever was causing that odd smell went away. What I am left with is a beautiful, creamy, white and yellow floral! The almond adds a slight boozy effect, but nothing akin to Scotch! The Guerlain vanilla doesn't disappoint either, and the sandalwood is likewise smooth and creamy. I am also getting decent longevity and projection. There is nothing screechy here, and it becomes even more beautiful as it dries down. It's growing on me with each passing moment, and I think I've found yet another Guerlain to love and cherish! This is a good beach scent that doesn't hit you over the head with coconut or sunscreen vibes. It is elegant, and soft, and very feminine. 8/14/2020 - Wearing this today, I am getting a slight spiciness that I didn't notice before. For the life of me I can't figure out what is causing that, but I'm enjoying it anyway!

Does anyone know if there was Mahora in EDT? I have seen one on Ebay but wonder if it is legit. EDT is not listed here above. Edit: I bought an almost full 75 ml EDT (from 2001, according to the batch code) for a really low price, and what a pleasure this is! Complex, elegant and timeless in its very dated approach to waxy white orange blossoms and almost bitter coconut/almond. Not too sweet at all, but still juicy, soft, warm and sparkling, rather than heavy and heady (maybe because it is an EDT?). In the beginning it kind of reminds me of Sacred Scarab by Zoologist and Ruffles by Oscar de la renta, as well as Idylle by Guerlain, but Mahora is prettier, airier and classier. After it dries down, it moves on to an expensive old school powder/soap scent, somewhere between Estee by Estee Lauder and No 19 Poudre by Chanel. How can this not have been a hit?! As a kindred spirit to Shalimar, it is like a hundred perfumes orchestrated to one scent. Seamlessly blended. Wow.

Thanks to a generous Fragrantica member I have been able to sample this amazing perfume. Upon first sniff it transported me back to the heady unapologetically feminine perfumes of my childhood in the early 1970's. This is a floral powerhouse with some quirkiness, especially in the opening where I'm smelling something fruity, something slightly green and even a hint of coconut. Yet I wouldn't consider it to be a tropical scent, at least not by current definitions. As Mahora dries down it becomes smoother and more of the Guerlain vanilla becomes apparent. Mahora is heavy, dense and powerful, yet incredibly beautiful perfume that I think suffered an early demise because it was out of sync with the times in which it was released. Had it been released 15 years earlier or later I think it would have been much more successful. Regardless, this is still a beauty that transports me to a more innocent time and place every time I wear it.

I know I recently just wrote a review about mahora but I have to just talk about it again!! This quickly became my top 5. I don't understand how it could be considered a failure it's so much better than a lot of perfumes that are made now. It definitely has the Guerlain- aid smell. It's classy smells a little vintage. I do not find it overly loud obtrusive or fleshy. I love the minty tuberose with the Yang Yang and the bitter almond, it's so unique it's a compliment getter with me. When I wear it people always ask what that beautiful smell is, what are you wearing it smells so good. Mahora is so long lasting has great sillage and it also smells amazing layered with Michael Kors. I wish I could have a thousand bottles of this stuff. It seems like everything I love is discontinued. Don't be afraid to try this if you love white Florals tuberose or a vintage feel, you won't regret it;)

Ooooh Mahora, beautiful Mahora... they don't make 'em like this anymore... This is a very tropical scent. The princess Tuberose is paired with ylang ylang essential oil, to give it an unmistakable tropical feel. As several reviewers have mentioned, although coconut is not listed among the notes, this combination of ylang and tuberose definitely smells like a suntan lotion. The drydown is all vanilla on me. I'd say that Mahora is what one would get if they layered Fracas or Madonna's Truth or Dare with TF Orchid Soleil or Guerlain Terracotta. It's very strong, so probably hard to wear in summer heat; instead, this should be worn in winter time, to counteract the gloomy weather with this evocation of a sun-drenched tropical paradise.

I am not sure what I can say about this masterpiece that has not already been said....long discontinued, way ahead of it's time....the big, bold Mahora. In addition to the buttery, creamy GIANT tuberose note and the rich banana-like tropical ylang, the jasmine pulls strongly on my skin and gives it a bit of an indolic, vintage feel. Like naked sweaty skin on a tropical island. This is not a 'nice' fragrance by any means, but she is definitely beautiful. This review is for the EDP alone--I find that the parfum performs slightly differently and will post a separate review there. My only complaint is the bottle is awkward as hell to hold and spray, but I do love the odd, alien shape of the bottle and the bright green box.