Mitsouko Eau de Parfum

In the past, I've scoffed at the notion that Mitsouko EDP is the canonical Mitsouko, and that the EDT is, in comparison, but a harsh, pale shadow. After all, it's simply a difference in concentration, isn't it? How can they be so different? Now, having tried three different Mitsoukos, I understand that this is a highly context-dependent fragrance, and no one Mitsouko in one context will smell like any other. Somehow, then, it's true what they say about the EDP in comparison to the EDT: it's smoother, richer, and, somehow, creamier -- not in a lactonic way that suggests literal cream, but in a way that conveys silky, decadent elegance. The EDP is not necessarily less bitter, but it folds in the bitterness in a way that comes out as less harsh in many contexts than the EDP might. Mitsouko EDP opens on me with a bright burst of lemon. This is precisely like the scent of a pure lemon essential oil: concentrated, a little sharp, a little green. This is paired with a lovely breath of bergamot, which, combined with the bitter tannin-like inkiness of the oakmoss, always tricks me into thinking I smell tea somewhere in Mitsouko. This bergamot tea with lemon essential oil is much more prominent on me in the most recent EDP than in the most recent EDT, where the suggestion of citrus had only sparkled for a few minutes. Here, lemon remains a dominant and noticeable top note for at least the first two hours. In these first two hours, I'd describe Mitsouko EDP as a lemon bergamot tea chypre, citrusy-clean in a way slightly reminiscent of a nostalgic cleaning product, like some home-made essential oil concoction, along with a bitter cup of earl grey tea left on the kitchen table. The oakmoss here feels much more gentle and rich here, carefully blended to support the citrus top, where the EDT feels more harsh at times (though I adore this harshness also). I don't get the astringent clove-forward spicy cleaner wipe opening here that I got in the most recent EDT formulation, but I suspect that may have been more present due to the warmer weather when I tried it, and perhaps in warmer months the EDP will have this feature in its opening as well. At times, Mitsouko EDT has shown me a glimmer of peach: I don't detect any in Mitsouko EDP on this wear, but trust that another time, perhaps under different weather conditions, the peach will reveal herself to me. I also can't point to any particular florals here, although I never detected any true floral notes on me with the EDT anyway, and I've always been relieved: this is, at its heart, a truly earthy yet refreshing chypre, light and breathable, not weighed down by thick florals or overbearing spices. And now, some four hours in: ah! Suddenly, taking my mask off and smelling Mitsouko in the cold wind, I get a fruity slice of that delightful, instantly recognizable peach. I return to my warm room and get a whiff of my wrists, realizing some of that cinnamon-anise-clove spice has emerged after all, though not as astringent and sharp as the spices in the opening of the EDT in warm weather. In my scarf, I can smell the peach and a whisper of something like orange, a citrus I'd overlooked in the opening. On the edge of my mask that touched my neck, I am more aware of the slight animalic musky undertone of Mitsouko -- not heavy or dirty, but a reminder that this is a living spirit with a heartbeat, not a dead forest log or a slice of pumpkin pie. It's a tiny spot of authentic muskiness that grounds the scent and ties it to the earth. After the first two hours, the lemony citrus brightness fades away some (though not entirely), and some of the opening tea-like bitterness of oakmoss has subsided, leaving room for a touch of the amber, woods, and spices as the base to bloom, gently shifting the fragrance nearly-imperceptibly, minute by minute, from a clean, refreshing citrus scent to a more warm and expansive base. A very subtle hint of amber sweetness creeps in little by little under the refreshing citruses and earthy oakmoss, although Mitsouko remains altogether a scent without any heavy sweetness. The spices here are more about warmth than they are about bite: a touch of warm cinnamon melds with the amber to form a comforting undercurrent to the citrus and moss. I realize now that the tea-like solidness of the bergamot and oakmoss is supported by the sturdy masculine woodiness of vetiver, which adds fullness and body, allowing the tea illusion to grow and bloom as time goes on, transforming from a more refreshing and citrusy beverage to a more contemplative, solid woody scent. All in all, on this early winter day, this Mitsouko EDP is somewhat linear on me, without any complete-180 turnarounds or blooming surprises, yet it shifts and evolves slightly, shedding light on its many different facets, and never gets boring while managing to hold its recognizable form for some twelve hours. No, there are no gimmicks here: the thing to note about the shape of Mitsouko is its elegant restraint, the way the scent metamorphoses between different contexts, revealing different flashes of itself. The focus shifts slightly, from citrus and oakmoss to vetiver and oakmoss to a base warmed by amber and spices, but the scent is recognizable throughout as Mitsouko. Put simply, I love her, and I can't picture reverting to the EDT, although she is also lovely. There are different nuances to each Mitsouko, and this one is doubtless sleeker, gentler, and easier to like (although this notion always threw me into vehement defense of the lovable sharp edges of Mitsouko EDT). Although I never could have anticipated it, this is the smooth lemony-bergamot citrus concoction I was dreaming of as I dripped a single drop of lemon essential oil onto my sweater in my first year of high school before a mock trial competition, reveling in the freshness of the scent. I imagine this Mitsouko is lovely in warm and cool seasons alike. She is unstifling and gentle, without any eagerness to impress. She simply keeps you company and soothes you with her presence. This morning in the shower I felt nauseous and dreaded sorting through the sweet and aggressive scents vying for my attention from my latest order of samples. Before given any other sample a try, I inevitably knew: Mitsouko comes first. She soothed me instantly, refreshing me, making me eager to breathe in fresh, cool, unsweet air, no longer feeling sick and full of dread. Mitsouko cools down the parts of you that you hadn't realize were overheating. She is a staple of my fragrance pleasure practice, a breath of air between any loud, grand, sweet scents, clean without being banal or at all like a laundry or bathroom product. She is unlike any other. I never detected any florals in Mitsouko EDT. Over time, I went from disappointed to grateful, imagining some heavy, overbearing cacophony of indolic jasmine intruding on my Mitsouko peace, or perhaps some screechy roses waking me from my oakmoss reverie. But then... around hour seven, an odd thing happened. I was having dinner with my boyfriend, and the skin on my left wrist was a few degrees warmer than on my right, because he had been holding my hand. (How do men do that? How are they so warm all the time?) I took an impulsive whiff of the left wrist and marveled: blooming florals, living ones, precisely like the ones in a botanical garden. It was a muddle of indoles and pure, singing sweetness and tang: I could name jasmine and ylang ylang, and a softer sweetness that perhaps resembled lilac, but it all came together in the muddled live floral scent of a warm, steamy room in a botanical garden. I sniffed my right wrist, and mostly got dry spices and wood, with a base featuring that increasingly prominent musky animalic note. I suddenly realized that the faint dirtiness and musk I'd always sensed at the bottom of Mitsouko was more than just amber and oakmoss: these were the indolic hints which never quite bloomed into florals for me in the EDT, but now bloom beautifully in the EDP. I don't think I've ever seen a fragrance before that hid florals so entirely for the entire opening and middle, only to suddenly reveal them in the drydown. If there is one dramatic twist to Mitsouko, this is it, at least on me. I simply hadn't expected I would ever sense the fabled florals in this one, and oh, they are florals of such a marvelous, living, pampered timbre, like exotic pets kept in a beautiful glass dome. I let my boyfriend smell my left wrist, and he said exactly what I was thinking: "It's like they built a church in a botanical garden. I can show you the exact spot in Longwood Gardens that smells like this." Spot on. Seven to nine hours in, Mitsouko positively blooms. In an incredible final act, lilac, jasmine, and ylang ylang dance on a warm background of woods and spice. The overall impression is now mildly floral-sweet, positively botanical, and alive, alive, alive. This is a Mitsouko I have never experienced before, and I'm head-over-heels in love.

Whenever I've been stopped and asked, "Just what is that you're wearing?" My answer is usually "Mitsouko." Everything about Mitsouko is timeless; an actual post-impressionist, post-Les Nabis group work of art, or, given the year of its release, an exercise of the Expressionist and Intimist art movements bottled in a languid, aloof, yet warm embrace of a fragrance. Expressionism's key focus was imparting an emotional effect, taking impressionism's abstraction of form to a different level of fantasy if it meant accurately embodying the desired emotion pictured therein or felt, usually without explicit traditional allegorical symbols that "tell" the viewer. Intimism was about closeness and portraying intimate, domestic moments, usually of family life, full of tenderness and brevity. Following in Jicky's footsteps as an abstract summation of its parts, Mitsouko typifies both art forms for its refusal to be fully known or understood, yet generous in its most powerful delivery of comfort and nostalgic longing. A true chypre of billowing Guerlainade powder, mossy florals, woods, and autumnal spice earthiness, one could variously describe Mitsouko as fancy scented makeup powders for a maiko, chalky incense ash on fallen leaves to even cinnamon-spiced peach fritter doughnuts fried in peanut oil, coated with powdered sugar and eaten on a picnic in a woodland clearing. Even more conceptual? A portrait of a tragic heroine, a tender moment between lovers. Love lost, love found, love or comfort remembered. A dandy actor or bohemian actress lounging at a subdued party, whispering things in people's ears by the fire. A more literal take? It's simply just a powdery, spicy, woody, impressionistically fruity "old" perfume. It is all of those things, and yet none of them. It's not a true gourmand by any means, the peach coming off as more or a suggestion to me than an actuality, and despite the inane Japonism of its being, nor is it what you would call a perfume -y Oriental of which Shalimar, its sister, typifies. It also lands Mitsouko as fairly unisex and universal, perhaps the most surprising and generous part of it's intimisim nature despite otherwise being a shifting puzzle box. Such universaliry may be partly because of the chypre genre itself, with moss and other moody green and woody notes tempering others with a sense of shadow; florals are there but, washed with impressionist blurred edges in sheer mossy netting, they are hard to identify (for me). Is that rose? I suppose so? Do I care? Not really. The abstraction of what Mitsouko unfurls with a gesture then retreats; its "mystery" is part of the fun. What smells so good? Oh it's me! Perhaps it's the perception of what and who is "old," having moved on with time and with the passing of her 100th birthday, Mitsouko is now so old and so far removed from trends that she is in a way new again, feeling less perfume-y than later vintage offerings and often even less literal in it's concept than many modern, even niche perfume house thematic offerings today. Very few other scents can pull this off. Mitsouko, too via the House guerlainade accord and its plush woody powder, has an additional long lineage at Guerlain worth respecting, with clear descendants, including chypre-oriental daughter Vol De Nuit, which lifts Mitsouko's earthiness with more sparkling aldehydes and iris up into the air, to the later Chant d'Aromes, Parure, and even the relatively new Encens Mythique with its heart of a salty amber-rose. One could argue that even Vetiver and Habit Rogue are among such sons or nephews too. Guerlain is the house of gossamer powder, and it should never faulter in that identity. While I'm not happy that as of writing the fragrance has moved to a separate, less available, and more expensive line of products with the recent relaunch, the fact Guerlain has kept Mitsouko alive for over 100 years and generally has kept reformulation relatively high quality and has kept the spirit of the original as best as they can in the face of regulation means quite a lot. For what a shame would it be not to be able to be graced by such art and history.

The following information is for those who are obsessed with batches(like myself). I have researched the interesting history of MITSOUKO batches and reformulation for many days. I read all the French blogs, English blogs, and Chinese blogs that I could possibly find. In general, many people believed that before 2000, Mitsouko did not go through much of a major change (I suspect that J.P. Guerlain's reforms were going to be approved by most people anyway). Then, as far as I understand, in 2000 Edouard Fléchier, the perfumer behind the legendary "Une Rose" by Frederic Malle, took over at Guerlain to work on Mitsouko. At that time, there were already warnings that oakmoss was to be restricted, so in order to find a substitute for it, the perfumer changed the formulation and used a form of tree moss extract (Evernia Furfuracea) as a substitute. This on-and-off reformulation process probably continued until 2012. Some fragrance enthusiasts say that the scent of Mitsouko in 2007-2012 is rather thin. But the famous critic Luca Turin said that this version is pretty good. I also heard from a member that their 2010 version of EDP is quite similar to the vintage Extrait but projected better. I have not smelled the vintage extrait, so I can not comment on this. T. Wasser entered Guerlain in 2008 with the mission of restoring the classics. In 2011 he decided to start recreating the original olfactory experience of Mitsouko from 1919. So at the end of 2013, the famous reformated version was completed, and this version has also won an award for replicating the original version of Mitsouko. This is one of the rare cases in the industry where a reformulation is widely praised. Unfortunately, this happiness did not last. In 2014, Takasago ceased the production of a methylionone compound, leading to a problem of Symrise's iriséine, which then lead to the stinky 2015 batches of Mitsouko and L'Heure Bleue. From my research, there is a big problem with batches 5Txx, 5Uxx, etc. Many customers went to Guerlain's counter to complain about the off-putting scents. Guerlain then openly and officially admitted that there was something wrong with the formula, and they took action by discontinuing Mitsouko and L'Heure Bleue (EDP and extrait). Interestingly, Guerlain believed that the EDT was not affected, which they continued to produce. (I feel that there is still a bit of impact, maybe avoid these batches) After intense redevelopment, blending, and testing, this crisis was finally resolved in September 2016. Some people compared 6X01 (the second-time fix) to 5N02 (the award-winning restoration of the vintage before the crisis). The chypre part of the 2013 award-winning version is more rounded and fuller than the post-crisis formulation of 2016. On the other hand, the top citrusy notes are brighter and more luminous in the newer formulation. You may not notice it unless you smell it carefully, and maceration may play a role. Between the middle to the end of 2017, Guerlain changed the packaging to a white box, the formula code also changed, and I don't know if the actual formulation has changed (the formula code seems to be determined by packaging, not formulation: a 2009 bottle has the same formula code as 2016, which does not make any sense). The ingredients list also seems different after the re-packaging. But I hear from friends that an 8A01 batch (early 2018) smells very good, even better than an EDT from the '90s, with its chypre part pretty much retained compared to the EDT, which is certainly reassuring to hear. Finally, according to my own experience, many Guerlain perfumes have been reformulated in 2019-2020, perhaps due to regulations again, for the worse (performance wise). I was told that the 2022 EDP version (the pure-colored sticker) smells good, with emphasis on oakmoss but only 5-6h of longevity. I now have a bottle of 2010, number 0v01 (this is the version that some people call "thin", some others say good). I also have a bottle of the award-winning 2013 formulation (4q01) and a re-packaged 2017 (7x02) on the way. A comparison will be here soon.

Words alone cannot convey how good Guerlain Mitsouko Eau de Parfum is. It's the reference chypre from 1919, composed by the legendary Jacques Guerlain. Mitsouko is marketed for women, but to my sense of smell, this is a unisex fragrance, where the fruity top notes are feminine-leaning and the drydown of the middle and base notes is tilting over to the masculine side of the spectrum. On my skin, it has either a unisex or masculine lean, so I wouldn't discourage guys from trying it out. Many guys seem to be enamored with Guerlain Jicky, which again is technically marketed for women. Luca Turin gave Guerlain Mitsouko 5 out of 5 stars, called it the "reference chypre," and stated that Mitsouko is one of the top 10 chypre fragrances out there. I definitely think this legendary scent deserves its iconic status, and I can understand why this is the pride of the house of Guerlain. The structure of the fragrance is such that it opens up very bright, fruity, youthful, and uplifting, with a prominent peach note. This is the "feminine" part of the scent. Metaphorically, it's the "facade" of the young Japanese woman who fell in love with the British officer but kept appearances up to hide her pain and suffering. As Mitsouko dries down, you're greeted with oakmoss, spices, cinnamon, vetiver, and amber. The drydown is the interesting part of the fragrance since this is unisex but also dark, gothic, mysterious, alluring, refined, polished, and sophisticated. Again, metaphorically, I'm assuming this represents the deeper side of the young Japanese woman's feelings and inner world, hiding behind the "facade." How should I describe Guerlain Mitsouko EDP to a person who has never smelled it before? The fragrance smells like a gentle, semi-sweet, slightly powdery, and perfumed forest floor consisting of oakmoss, the dark earthy smell of the soil, decomposing plants, fallen leaves, and mushrooms. Mitsouko smells feminine, unisex, and masculine; urban and outdoorsy; chic and darkly gothic; and foresty all at once. There are no rough edges; there is no disharmony of notes. No particular note is overpowering. The whole olfactory impression exudes impeccable craftsmanship, seamless elegance, and perfection, and everything fits perfectly together like a tailored suit or glove. Mitsouko, in my opinion, leans formal and should probably be used (by men) with elegant attire for more formal or festive occasions, leaning toward nighttime, fall, and winter. If this is what a true chypre smells like, then I can definitely say I've fallen in love with the chypre family of fragrances. I can definitely recognize the chypre base or foundation of other fragrances such as Aramis Classic (a leather chypre for men), Geo F. Trumper Eucris EDT/EDP (a dark, gothic, gentlemanly chypre), and of course, last but not least, Chanel Pour Monsieur EDT. The chypre DNA is present in all these fragrances and instantly recognizable to my sense of smell. I've heard rumors that Rogue Perfumery Chypre Siam is very similar to Guerlain Mitsouko, so I'm eager to get a sample of that. This is perfumery at its finest. It's an artistic representation of the highest form of perfumery, refined elegance, and seamless perfection. Final score: I give Guerlain Mitsouko a 10/10! PS: @Mystères du Château de Dé, the 75ml bottle with the spot label is the one I reviewed.

CATNIP for NECROPHILES - the scent of thanatos. The best of Mitsouko is highlighted by reviewers Enrium & theautumnfaerie (1st review) below: "...rich widow’s apartment in 1920s decorated in warm green and gold notes and dark massive wood furniture at golden hour. smoke from cigarette making an ambient veiled atmosphere in her living room. her getting ready for girls’ night out, putting red lipstick on and arranging her feather headpiece... ...". What more could I possibly offer?... except to tell you with sincerity what they're leaving out. I used to like her, this rich widow, when we were newly acquainted and I was young and hopeful in my passion for fragrance. Standing in the foyer of her apartment I felt the intoxicating pull of her sophistication and even a glimmer of peachy promise. Despite the lure of her fame & sophistication, the further in I've ventured, the less sophisticated she's become without her wig of sycophants. Inside that rich widow's apartment is a very old garden (ancient even) that hasn't been cultivated in quite some time, such that it has fallen into disuse, represented by a civet note (not listed) that is dry and crusty, being hedged about with dusty oakmoss and caked full of something unmentionable. And the only reason I've lived to tell the story is because I spooked early, because In a way I know this scent, as I've been here before, though I'd like to forget. Trying to cultivate an appreciation for this scent I have been working at it, and am still working at it, tossing aside dead cats and mouldy leaves, trying to bring her back from the dead and restore her to health. Always on the verge of giving up. Scratching my head at the thought that Jacques Guerlain marketed this for women. Scrubbing my hands multiple times with the errant thought of 'why didn't I wear gloves?'. Yeah, I think I just talked myself out of it. Time to bag & tag for the specimen shelf. But if I don't give up, and one day I do find treasure, I will surely never tell. On the other hand, why would I train myself to love & wear something that at this point could only be catnip for necrophiles? Note the spiralling indecision, despite an obviously futile situation. This, my friends, is the scent of death. We all feel it, that inexorable pull toward destruction - the Greeks call it thanatos, or the death drive in psychoanalytic parlance. So heed this warning: flirt with her if you must, or wield her deadly power in the way that goths scare off bullies, but do not, I repeat do not venture ever closer to her garden.... Update 02/11/25: I don't know what happened, but I decided to return to this after a year and a half and something clicked. I don't know if it was the scent macerating, or my nose getting smarter, or a recent tendency to smell the air more than my wrist. I'm not sure what, but this has become just beautiful in the air. I'm at a loss for words. Gone is the musty, dank whatever-it-was, which has been replaced by the most gorgeous soft sillage of silky vintage Guerlain-ness (I'm even getting the lilac note). Stunned, and in love, and needing to apologize for my previous rantings. I'm sorry, this is epic. 10/10.

For today I consider myself to be one of the luckiest men on the planet because I get the pleasure of visiting an old friend and one of the most beautiful friends I have ever known, Mitsouko. Not only do I get to visit with her, on my left arm is the extrait and on the right is the EdP. What a truly wonderful day. Now, for the EdP, as with the extrait, I must first say that I believe Guerlain to be making a huge mistake with Mitsouko. Why is this marketed as a women's perfume? How terribly unfair to us fellows out there. I think this makes an excellent masculine fragrance - well, an excellent unisex scent to be fully honest. If Guerlain simply said this, it would give thousands of men permission to try it and I suspect that most of them would fall in love with it. What might hold Guerlain - and many thousands of men - back from this simple yet life-changing perspective is the floral and fruity middle. Up top you have Guerlain's classic shimmering and powdery bergamot. Guerlain uses this all of the time, including in their masculines, so there's point number one. Then you get to the middle, a beautifully evocative and soft expression of jasmine, rose, peach, and ylang-ylang. This part does smell decidedly feminine but to Jacques Guerlain's genius he didn't make it a full-on sugary syrupy flower and fruit bomb; it's subtle, it's gentle, it's a beautiful tissue paper rather than a thick crinkly and loud wrapping paper. For the relaxed, understated and suave gentleman this would work very well. Finally, at the base, are equally tissue-paper like notes of spicy woods, oakmoss, and vetiver - classic masculine accords. So, we have a masculine template top and base, and a more feminine but wearable-by-all middle; two out of three makes this plausibly masculine in my book. But, however, I am and will very much admit that my argument is reductive. The EdP on my right arm is not as good as the extrait on my left arm, but few things have ever existed that are as beautiful as Guerlain's Mitsouko extrait, so I will not make this unfair comparison. They are basically the same, except that the extrait is richer and lasts longer (no surprise). Mitsouko transcends gender, time and place, and everything we currently think perfumes should be (especially in these modern times). This is beige satin porcelain in a bottle, and beige satin porcelain suits all genders and tastes. It is quiet, refined and gentle, yet stunningly beautiful; a very modest but room-lighting smile through the kindest of eyes, like Mona Lisa's if it were put on the most beautiful and legendary of geishas. This is a perfume everyone who likes perfume, or more so than that, should smell at least once in their life. I would like to say everyone should wear it at least once in their life but that might be a bit too much of an infringement on freedoms. Many perfume critics, experts, creative directors, and perfumers consider Mitsouko to be the greatest perfume of all time. I don't know that I could ever develop a sufficient enough argument to say otherwise, nor would I ever feel the need to try.

guerlain wouldn’t pay me for this review so i’ll pay myself. nothing i’ve said about mitsouko hasn’t been said before but i think i just have to make up a problem to be mad at sometimes so im going to do that. this has been an i-shit-you-not four year long love affair and it probably will be all my life. perfumes seldom reveal to me something new about themselves, after more than three or four wears. oh, yeah, sure. a change in weather or atmosphere might shock and awe now and then in bringing out something new but seldom does an ordinary wear pull something new out of me. mitsouko makes herself an exception. every time i wear it i get a desperate urge to throw away everything else. no other perfume ive smelled compares. an amorphous, shapeshifting inkstain of a scent. it is peach and spice and amber but it is also dry wood depth, a dark forest, incense— almost a dry rot and moss, all veiled together with guerlainade floral. but if i asked someone to smell it they would describe it as a feeling. my lover (who knows what we are), has said it smells like powder and shadows and really rich in one go, like an art museum in another, “confusing” when they smelled the cap, “like warmth” last time we hugged, and when asked what i wore that day, once, because i smelled “like myself.” my mother is a fastidiously picky woman who never wears perfume but for the heady eighties narcissus bomb she’s gone through 4 bottles of. she swears this one is “way too familiar”, “nice”, “strong in a good way”. i have gotten the oddest comments on it. beautiful. antique store. church. delicious. all correct! it is the black turtleneck of perfumes. highly contextual in what it conveys, serious and melancholic, never really out of place except in extreme heat where its weight is oppressive, unforgivably sexy. and yes, it is indeed sexy. cinnamon, peach, amber? no amount of vetiver or oakmoss could strip that of its appeal, only really enhance and enrich it. i blew thru a sample i got from a decanter and rationed my next bit like a miser. for my birthday a few years back my mother purchased me (and this is a lovely flex), a pre-IFRA oakmoss regulation, 90s miniature dabber bottle, and indeed, while it is different, the reformulation available right now is no less masterful. i’ve worn my now owned big bottle to no less than 4 weddings (not my own, though surely it will be), to probably a few dozen work days, if not more, with but one spray, on nearly every fancy date, to solo museum tours, and once when invited to a guerlain hosted event where i actually got to meet perfumers. mitsouko is probably the only signature perfume i will ever have. everything else is a summer stand in for me at this point. or maybe to keep me from burning out on her. which, i don’t think i could. i truly think i could get rid of almost all of my collection except for her and remain content. it is that incomparable.

Let me preface this by saying the obvious: I am a Guerlain fanatic. It makes up the majority of my collection, primarily because I am eliminating most of my other fragrances through attrition. I am so in love with the Guerlain heritage and the work of its perfumers, I became brand loyal. Few "other than Guerlain" fragrances in my collection will remain. With that said, I have no problem wearing a women's fragrance if I like it. Guerlain always says "the last note in the fragrance is you" - meaning that your body chemistry will give it a uniqueness. I bought this as a blind buy (no Guerlain retailer close to me) to wear for me. This is such a beautiful, dramatic gift to the world of fragrance. It definitely leans feminine with the fruity notes and heavier dose of florals, but by no means is it a fruity floral fragrance. The shining stars here are the Vetiver and Oakmoss. It is perfectly categorized as a Chypre. The touch of spices without the gourmand sweetness may make it feel a touch outdated to some. But the story behind the creation of Mitsouko is one of sadness and yearning, and I get that in this scent. The base notes offer a sobering foundation for the fruits and florals to rest. After 45 minutes or so, most of the brightness from the citruses dissipate and I'm left with four primary notes that stand out to my nose: Peach and Jasmine that lend an innocence to the scent, and Oakmoss and Vetiver that add a sadness to it. Just as the rich dose of Vetiver in Encre Noire turns the fragrance into a dark and damp journey through a lush forest after a rain, the Oakmoss and Vetiver in Mitsouko turn the brightness of the top and middle notes dark. It's the perfect juxtoposition of light and dark, happiness and sadness. I am impressed and feel as if I discovered a true gem. Dare I say because of this fight between the light and dark, innocence and sadness, I get a sensuality from it: A sexiness even. I would say that this could easily be worn by men, if layered with Encre Noir or a single woody note like cedar to balance the florals a bit. Update: Something I’ve been noticing the more I wear this: On my skin, this doesn’t fully “develop” for about three hours. Not sure if that is a proper word to describe what I’m trying to articulate, but hopefully it’s understandable to most. It takes a while to dry down may be a better way to explain. Spray this on clothing or a pillow or cloth of some sort and come back later and the heaviness and polarizing oak moss scent gives way to soft florals and the peach notes.

Despite my large and varied perfume collection, I have always been particularly drawn to chypres. Mitsouko is undoubtedly the queen of chypres, despite this scent family taking its name from the earlier (and inferior) Coty creation. I have a modern sample from c. 2012, bought on the recommendation of Luca Turin. While it is unfortunately post-reformulation, it still holds up as an excellent example of the genre. Wonderfully mossy, with powdery florals and a bright but dense citrus opening, it is set apart by its peach note. Despite the Japanese name, it is quintessentially French. Guerlain is my favourite perfume house of all, and Mitsouko is undoubtedly a jewel in its crown. Mitsouko opens with the classic tart bergamot note that defines the chypre opening. Orange and lemon round it out, and the clean, powdery florals follow. The balsamic base is present from the initial stages, warm and slightly bitter initially. The florals temper it - I get soft iris followed by bold, powdery rose, and jasmine adds body. Here, it brings to mind the famed Guerlinade accord. The peach note is notable here - an oft-copied inclusion in chypres, it was an inspired addition to Mitsouko that set it apart from Coty Chypre. It glistens, brightening the dark chypre base, sweetening the florals, softening the bitterness - tying everything together in a neat, iconic package labelled Mitsouko. The warm balsamic base continues to develop in the background, nicely mossy and earthy with woody notes. Dry, grassy vetiver is quite prominent here, and the mossiness is well-rendered despite the restrictions on oakmoss. It is not as dark, complex or dense as vintage formulas of Mitsouko, but is a lovely chypre base in its own right. The amber accord is resinous here, complemented by soft, warm spices, becoming musky as it dries down. It fades to a woody, mossy skin scent, softened beautifully by the musky amber. Sillage is moderate and longevity is long-lasting. Unisex by modern standards, it is transeasonal, timeless and utterly versatile. Mitsouko is a deeply satisfying, well-rounded chypre - a true icon (and reference) of the genre. This was an astounding creation at the time of its release - an improvement (perfecting?) of a brilliant new accord pioneered by Coty Chypre. While this modern iteration lacks the richness (and oakmoss and labdanum) of my vintage extrait, it holds up well. Mitsouko paved the way for some of my favourites (hello, Givenchy III, Rochas Femme and Amouage Jubilation 25). 5/5 (for posterity).

This review is for the 2021 repackaging EDP, since the 2021 EDP version isn't on Fragrantica's data base. On the very first spray, Mitsouko opens up very bright and sparkling. It's very fizzy and carbonated, almost soda like. It reminds me of ginger ale. It could be the cinnamon mixed with the bergamot/citruses that's creating this effect. It could be that sparkling peach aldehyde. It could be both. Along with it, I get to sense the presence of the peach note which is one of the leading, but not overwhelming role in this scent. It's not a juicy, hyper-realistic, hippie peach. It's more of a synthetic, or rather aldehydic (to make it sound more pleasing), fancy peach. The role of the peach note in this scent is not to make this a fruity fragrance. The peach is here to give this scent lusciousness, plumpness and vibrancy. For a lack of a better word, it prettifies this fragrance. A blend of rich and smooth floral notes comes along as that soda-like fizziness of the opening settles down a bit. I find it not easy to pick out individual floral notes from this. It's a well-blended, homogenous mix of florals. But reading the listed floral notes of this scent, I definitely get a sense of that rose, jasmine, ylang ylang iconic trio. This abstracted floral mix is tinted with a soft mossy note which grounds the florals with this smooth green-like depth. The mossy greeness isn't rugged and earthy. With that sprakling, fizzy aldehydic top, the mossy note is definitely smoothened out so it's soft, velvety and plush instead. At the overall mid to drydown phase of this fragrance, all of the elements just blends all together harmoniously. The remains of the bright fizzy, soda like citrusy top leaves its stain, along with the creamy, silky peach note, the soft and smooth florals, and the powdery, velvety moss. Every element is fine tuned and well ratioed. Theres no one element that seems too loud that overpowers the rest of the composition. Like a properly mixed song, the velocity of each tracks are on their right volumes, and is mastered properly to create a pleasant song to listen to. It's complex yet not stuffy. I can imagine being a nice effervescent fall scent. It would be great on a chill rainy morning. It's quite refreshing and comforting in fact, but still indulgent. It's not something you can just bathe in casually after shower like a cologne or a body mist. It's definitely something you put on when get dressed up.

Just a side-note: If you're looking for a big juicy/sweet peach, MITSOUKO will not be it. The peach here is dry, not juicy/sweet, and it's HIGHLY modulated by the oakmoss, bergamot, cinnamon and clove. The effect is of a chypre, thus MITSOUKO will always have that chypre quality: sophisticated, fairly bitter and earthy, tightly-knit, with a peach quality peering out delicately from that powerful tweed-y accord. This is a sophisticated peach for a super-glam, mature wearer, like Ingrid Bergman or Charlie Chaplin. Most perfumisti will tell you that the post-1990 formulations of Rochas FEMME certainly do owe a nod to MITSOUKO, and the peach is juicier, sweeter and more pronounced. The cinnamon in FEMME is not so much bark-y/Ceylon natural like MITS... rather it's more like red-hot candies or Dentyne gum. FEMME is only available in EDT strength, too, and its life on the skin accordingly is shorter that MITSOUKO EDP. FEMME has been called a "friendlier", more "accessible" version of MITSOUKO, and that's not incorrect... it also has that pronounced cumin note, which smells strikingly like human sweat... or something even more "nether" located. Thus FEMME is blatantly erotic in a way that MITSOUKO is not. To my nose, the tonka bean, hay-ey "foin coupé" is much stronger in FEMME than in MITSOUKO. To my nose, FEMME is also a fair bit more floral than MITSOUKO; MITSOUKO is SO not about flowers. FEMME also is muskier than MITS, to my nose with a good dose of Tonkin Musk adding yet more to its erotic declaration. A gentleman below asked that we please talk in language that anyone can understand. OK, here goes: FEMME is streetwalker chickenhead while MITSOUKO is expensive call-girl. If you're wanting sweet and juicy, try Slumberhouse KISTE, or Tom Ford's BITTER PEACH (or one of its dupes out there). This is where you're gonna get that "peach cobbler" effect. You might even want to try a more inexpensive solinote peach, like OUTREMER or BBW or DEMETER. I haven't tried these, but I suspect they are more in the "peach gummy ring" department. It's all good-- everything depends on what you like.

Faith in retail fragrances restored: A recent course on perfumery led us to begin exploring iconic fragrances..... This is how explorers must have felt, discovering new lands filled with new life. New colours, new smells, all there to be taken in and adored. I wonder how many men throughout history have waited for the wife or mistress/maid or whoever to be gone long enough for him to have a go around the room on her Mitsouko or (if he's very naughty) her second cousin, 'sticky' Jicky? Abject horror may ensue at the discovery that these 'flowery' scents don't wear off too quickly.And that they can indeed have a profound effect on the wearer's psyche. This man has stumbled into the Solomon's mine of fragrances with Guerlain. Even with all the re-formulating and snowflake generation preserving rules on ingredients, there's a whole bunch of fragrances here that still stand out as seminal, origin of the species that have shaped the way perfume is made, worn, marketed-everything.. The object of perfumery is to create new sensations from existing ingredients that match the formulations intention at conception.The motivation/inspiration for this one must be cosmic. I love Mitsouko because it tells you everything without giving much away.You can guess or even tell yourself you know what's what with this one, but it really does have a life of its own.It's the rarest flower from a tree that will never be discovered; only throwing it's scent on a breeze to stun those who experience it directly. I can only wear this alone and/or when sleeping, only because it demands so much attention (for someone who isn't anywhere near accustomed to it yet). The next one who says it's an 'old lady' smell will hopefully realize one day that lots of old (and young) ladies have something called class and style.They wear it because it's so good.Young or old, man or woman; one is truly fortunate to encounter something so fine as this.

Many prior reviews cover notes and performance accurately, so just a few random thoughts: --Reformulations have slightly diminished Mitsuko, but you can diminish the true greats a little and still have an excellent fragrance. --In a world where white flowers and fruity notes abound in unisex niche fragrances, Mitsuko, with its mossy notes and vetiver intensive dry down is squarely unisex in 2021. That is the opinion of a middle-aged, CISHET man, his not quite middle-aged CISHET wife and his millennial gay male son--all of whom wear Mitsuko and cherish it. My teenagers both pronounced the scent "gross" and, in one case, "pointless", so probably best to sample if possible (although at current discounters' prices, maybe just go ahead and blind buy a small bottle). --If you are new to Mitsuko, it is probably best to start with the EdP, which tames the harshest and most challenging notes. The EdT projects more and makes some folks smell the dreaded "pissy" note more clearly. The Extrait is closest to the older formulations, but costs an awful lot for a first experience and sits pretty near to the skin for most folks. --The cap really makes the bottle for Mitsuko, so if you like the design element of fragrance packaging, don't get a tester. --The opening is quite good, but short lived. Most folks who express issues with Mitsuko dislike the heart notes. The base notes are beautiful and have established themselves as dominant by 90 minutes after initial spray. If you have trouble with the middle, hang in there, it gets better as it progresses. Whether because the heart notes become more comprehensible with familiarity or because one eventually comes to associate the heart with glorious base notes it leads to, many, many folks who I know to enjoy Mitsuko have learned to like every aspect of this fragrance. --Every fragrance fan owes it to his, her or xirself to try Mitsuko at least once.

This is just a first impression of timeless Mitsouko. Non poetic, just how the fragrance smells to me. A leather bound book is my first impression. The warm sharpness/ bitterness of it, just pure high quality leather. That's the opening for me. Very sharp but instantly comforting and to my nose, very pleasant. Then comes the ver dry and sweet bitter spicyness, slowly. But no cinnamon, i cannot detect any cinnamon. This is the dryest and most bitter fragrance i've ever known, i didn't know it could be like this! Quite a discovery. It becomes slightly sweeter then but remains bitter, and the warmth becomes more prominent too. And here is the beautiful floral spiciness that will last a long time. Turning somewhat powdery. Softly bittersweet Quite beautiful and very, very lovely. Delicate but strong. There are many dimensions to this scent, smelling from upclose or afar are two different experiences. It's an absolute treat, curled up with a book. I imagine in autumn this will be beautiful, but in summer it can provide a definite freshness. This is my very first, non poetic impression. But i do feel this: this scent goes deep, is complex and blooms pretty and has a strong comforting, enlivening effect on me in a way that a walk in the forest after the rain has. Also i think on a woman it is very feminine, accentuating femininity, and definitely a sense of mystery and quiet confidence also... , but i could see that on a man this would perfectly go as well. So happy with my bottle 😊 and deeply grateful for this beautiful scent, that is greatly enhancing my inner life. Mitsouko is very mossy green leathery, bittery fresh and enlivening! My bottle does have real Tree- and oakmoss, as they are listed as seperate ingredients and i personally appreciate these notes in a blend.

TRADITIONAL CHYPRES 🍁 Amouage Jubilation XXV 2007 There is missing some main elements of Chypre scent here but it performs very similarly like Chypre anyway. This is soft and Ambery, very refined. The warmest of these all. 🍁 Guerlain Mitsouko 1919 Mossy and earthy, new epd is a little bit sharp while my new extrait is soft and more round, polished. I used to layer them to get the best from both. This new epd is the most dry of these ones. An extrait version of Mitsouko, even if it’s the most recent one, is mesmerizing, rich and intoxicating blend. It’s very different than edp where the beautiful sweetness from Peach is very faint and a deep, mellow, mossy base is just earthy and very dry. Extrait is so amazing and evocative definitely one of the best Chypres. I highly recommend that one, there is a huge difference between those concentrations. 🍁 Rochas Femme 1944 A little bit more fruity than others, beautiful Plum, Peach and Apricot brings a gentle sweetness. Feels smoky/earthy after the opening but not for long time. Performs darker on my husband’s skin than on mine. 🍁 Roja Parfums Diaghilev 2010 Very strong and majestic dark blend, a challenging to wear for many. This one definitely needs the right kind of clothes, otherwise you look and smell totally ridiculous. Sharp and spicy, leathery and musky, the most masculine of these ones, actually there is nothing feminine in this. Thank you for reading, I hope my review was helpful. I would appreciate a lot if you want to follow me on IG and/or YouTube (English subtitles): @ninamariahperfumes It gives me a lot of motivation to write more. 🤗

One thing I have noticed reading previous Fragrantica reviews for this powerhouse fragrance is how commonly this perfume is bought blind. What gives? Could it be the allure of the house of Guerlain, the mystique surrounding the story of Mitsouko, the eponymous Japanese heroine featured in Claude Farrere’s “La Bataille”, the long list of famous admirers, including Charlie Chaplin and Ingrid Bergman? Added to that are the colourfully vivid reviews that have been left here over the years as fans (and not so great fans) have left their say of Mitsouko. In the end, I too fell for the bait and bought blind. This is a perfect example of an unsafe blind buy! Although for some that may be an intriguing enough reason to buy. This seems to be such a polarizing scent; most of these reviews fall squarely into two camps: love or hate. And I must admit when I first smelled this 6 years ago when I bought it blind I really didn’t love it. It took some time and several revisits for me to reflect over the blend of the notes and while I still find the initial opening searingly acerbic with the citrus rinds, over time I have come to appreciate just how truly well put together this perfume is and why Guerlain still market this fragrance over 100 years later. Honestly, even 5 years after purchasing this and wearing it here and there I’m afraid to wear this one outside my house so I fall into the camp of lovers that know they can never pull off this scent for anyone but themselves and that in itself can be a treasure where you can enjoy wearing a perfume just for yourself.

I have to write this in a separate review because i was so dumb to buy a bottle of rochas femme out of curiosity bc the well meaning gentleman below (@gedlive) recommended it with probably the best intentions for people low on cash. But this wasted money, the scent is depressing and terribly cheap and far from natural. (Nb i'm not rich and neither a perfume snob, far far from it, i just save money to buy my favorite fragrance, and Rochas was something i could afford at the moment but that was a waste of my hard earned money) I have both Rochas femme and Mitsouko here. I'm going to get straight to the point: Mitsouko is alive, vibrant, herbacious and sweet in her bitter oakmoss accords. Mitsouko is beautiful, very rich, high quality and really poetry in a bottle. The more i capture this fragrance the more i fall in love. The oakmoss is giving this scent a deeply natural vibrancy. It's so unique. Rochas is very different, although it reminds me of Mitsouko, that is true. But it depressed me in a way and i wanted to scrub it off immediately, even tho i wanted to like it initially. You can smell it's cheap and synthetic. It dries down to a faint gross greasy scent. And i do still recognize Mitsouko in it, but it's so different. It can never replace it. It's extremely synthetic and very sad. I'm sorry to the man who reccomended this, but i had to share because it was such a mistake to even think Rochas Femme could be anything like golden Mitsouko. If there's anything i got out of this experience, it's that i love Mitsouko even more now. 💛💚💛💚💛💚💛

I had no idea what to expect from Mitsouko before sampling. It seemed like a very difficult fragrance to describe based on all the reviews I've read. All the impressions of it seem to be highly personal and unique, and it's very hard to actually imagine what it's like, but for some reason I was worried it would be too musty-dusty for my liking. So I sampled it and... Boom, it opens exactly like the old wooden lacquered chess set we had at my parents' place. I can see now what some people meant when they compared it to an old dresser- they didn't mean the mustiness of old clothes, but the classy scent of classic wooden furniture. If there are any clothes inside this old dresser then they are all freshly laundered and smelling of the finest soap. Very quickly it settles into the familiar guerlinade accord, very similar to L'Heure Blue. Then it slowly starts spicing up, but not in a musty, herbal way, more like warm and peppery. I find it rather happy, cosy and comforting. I'm not getting any peach, if you want a nice dark Guerlain peach then I suggest Nahema. I was cautious to approach Mitsouko because of all the reviews that described it as a challenging fragrance, not now that I tested it I really don't understand why. I actually find it way easier to wear than Apres L'Ondee- which was described as a light and ethereal fragrance, but personally I can't stand it. I will need to spend more time with Mitsouko and get to know her better (and get a full bottle), but it's an instant love.

Mitsouko is the secret garden where I harbor intimate thoughts about the world - hidden truths I don’t need to share. It’s a place where careful cultivation sits beside plants allowed to grow freely, where sun rays strike rain drops in the air. Tall trees shelter the space, and walls veiled in ivy protect it, shutting out noise, overbearing influences, and the constant push-and-pull from the outside. I show it only to a few. It’s where I retreat to feel at home, centered, safe, and comfortable - a place where things can shift slowly over time, where something might need to be rearranged, removed, or replaced with something new. Then I leave it untouched for a while, just to see what becomes of it on its own. Mitsouko goes through phases, as many legendary fragrances do. It needs time to settle before revealing its full beauty. There are discoveries to be made, emotions to be felt, perspectives to be enjoyed. It becomes a small journey if you’re willing to exercise a bit of patience - a stark contrast to many recent fragrances that remain linear from start to finish. Best worn in cool and cold weather, if you ask me. It is a very classic perfume, with over a century of tradition. Does its age make it dated? In my opinion, no. Dated, outdated? Modern, desirable? I find that generalizations rarely do anyone justice. Mitsouko remains relevant, praised by many - not just by seasoned enthusiasts. That makes it timeless.

It’s funny that Femme by Rochas has been mentioned in recent reviews, because it’s what actually caused me to go from disliking Mitsouko to loving it. When I tried a sample of Guerlain’s famous chypre a while ago, I appreciated the history of it, but couldn’t wrap my nose around the boldness and slightly masculine lean of the scent. Recently, despite comparisons to Mitsouko, I decided to pick up Femme - purely due to the fact it was a favourite of Hollywood stars Elizabeth Taylor and Jayne Mansfield. I really loved the warm spicy richness of it, so in turn I felt inspired to give my Mitsouko sample another go. To my surprise, it was like I’d been gifted a whole new nose. It’s funny how our opinions can change on fragrances. This time round I really loved the classy, timeless-yet-vintage unisex aura Mitsouko carries around it. It’s certainly not for everyone, and it’s definitely to be worn sparingly considering how powerful it is and how long it stays on the skin. I decided to buy a full bottle, and it smells lovely - if a slight bit heavier and stronger with the oakmoss upon initial spray. I’m really glad Femme by Rochas prompted me to give this classic another go. Both fragrances are similar but whereas Femme has a feminine, seductive quality, Mitsouko is something you could imagine being worn to a luxurious dinner party. It adds a tad more intrigue to the perfume that it was apparently worn by Charlie Chaplin.