Mitsouko Eau de Toilette

Hmmmmm. I think I don't get this one just yet, but I'm slowly getting there. I imagine this one varies a lot based on skin chemistry, and, based on the comments I see here, I don't think I have the best possible skin chemistry for this. Nonetheless, something about it just won't let me go. My first thought upon sniffing Mitsouko was that this... stinks? This smells, in the kind of way that my mother would want to cover up with a clean department store celebrity floral. It smells exactly like something, though I don't quite remember what... I do understand the old lady comparisons. This smells like it is from another era. It smells like timeless, graceful maturity. It reeks with a certain sourness that I hated at first, particularly in the opening burst of green sharpness and spices, but then it started to remind me of libraries and old book pages, soft cuddly amber and ink... There is nothing sweet in this. Zero. Maybe a whisper of peach fuzz, but not a ripe, juicy peach you'd ever want to eat. Maybe a suggestion of a floral bouquet far, far away, wilting quietly on a dusty piano. Something in Mitsouko is very close to death. She is somber, sour, serious, and oh, so old. And yet... I just can't figure her out. I have to keep wearing her until I know her secrets. I can feel myself slowly falling for her mysterious whispering charm. I'm falling under her spell. On me, the opening of this is sharp and harsh, with spices I can't quite name that have an almost anise-like pointiness. The vetiver is loud and green, like grass screaming as it is cut, and the oakmoss is pungent and inky. I'm surprised by the strength and performance of Mitsouko throughout, but particularly in this first brash stage. That opening punch of spiky spices feels really familiar to me, and rather folk-medicinal. In the first minutes, it's astringent almost like an odd spicy scent of cleaning wipes manufactured in a country with wildly different olfactory tastes for cleaning wipes. I wouldn't usually think of this as something I'd want to smell like, and it's my least favorite part of the scent, but it's growing on me. The suggestion of peach comes out right in the middle, as the green and inky nuances begin to quiet down unevenly and let slivers of fruit and beheaded flowers through their grasp. In the drydown, the amber comes out and softens the green bitterness of the vetiver and oakmoss, which have become soft and tea-like. This stage is so enchanting and lovely, and I wish it projected more. In a day, I've gone from strongly disliking this to wanting to bathe in it. I never buy more than a milliliter of any fragrance, with very few exceptions, but this one tempts me. Enchanting. Update: today I wore Mitsouko EDT all day. First I brought her to work with me in the library. I couldn't tell where the soft, gentle dusty library smell ended and Mitsouko began. I then walked with her down to the farmer's market for some flowers, and promptly got caught in a gale. Mitsouko sang beautifully all around me in the rain. When I finally ran home in the rain, grabbed my umbrella, and walked to a dinner party, Mitsouko was still hanging all around me deliciously in the air. She has a way of magnifying and blending with all of the best things in your own skin and all around you. She sings clear, resonant chords with dampness and rain, with water and rot, with overripe fruit and earth, with spices and sin. She embodies the cool late August nights when the road glistens with rain and the air is heavy with a refreshing wetness. She is divine and she has graced me with her presence. I'll have her as long as she will stay. I'm a chronic sampler who tries everything in the tiniest possible size and never orders more of anything, who cannot imagine having a signature and wearing the same scent every single day. Mitsouko is the first scent to seriously tempt me with settling down. She blends with my own skin and my surroundings gloriously, creating a bridge that helps me appreciate the beauty of both. Unlike some heady sweet or floral thing, Mitsouko never exhausts me. I go to bed thinking how exciting it will be to wear her again. I think of her when I am trying other scents. I'm well on my way to having to order more. Update 2: It's official. I'm a fickle, novelty-chasing forever sampler, and Mitsouko is my first signature scent. Each time I bring her out she shows me something new. Today it is a comforting, delightful cinnamon with an almost-chocolate nuance and something animalic and carnal in the background. Another day, she's rain and dusty books, or perhaps dry vanillin and tea. She changes so entirely based on weather, climate, skin chemistry... she is divine. Update 3: I caved and bought a tester from FragranceX (my first ever full bottle, of anything!) and I like her very much, though she is not the Mitsouko I fell in love with in my 1 ml sample. Gone are the anise-cinnamon disinfectant spices and the moldy peach that I know and love. This Mitsouko feels more earthy, vegetal, and so much more mushroom-y. Perhaps she has a bit more of a citrus sheen, not bergamot, but something like a hint of lemon. Oddly enough, I get something animalic and civet-like, a skanky sexy note that simply wasn't there in my first sample. My batch number tells me my bottle is from 2017. I've heard Mitsouko doesn't keep well, and department store lights probably don't help. (Lesson learned!) I don't know how some of you preserve hundred-year-old bottles of the stuff! Still, she is pretty, though not as plush and mystical as what I first sampled. (The conspiracy theorist in me can't help but wonder whether sample distributors might put EDP in EDT vials to get more people to come back for a full bottle... but no, I think my bottle has simply started to turn.) I do like this damper, more animalic, mushroom-centered, possibly-turned take on Mitsouko, though I still dream of the one from my original sample most of all. Someday I'll find her again.

There is the extrait, the eau de parfum, and this, the eau de toilette. The extrait is undoubtedly the benchmark - as can be said with most Guerlain perfumes - but so complex, mysterious, and multidimensional is Mitsouko that even in three different concentrations the perfume still elicits a weak-at-the-knees reaction from me regardless of the one I'm wearing. The opening of the EdT is the same irrespective of the concentration, that powdery bergamot - a Guerlain signature - nestled on a bed of ripe and juicy peach skin that is quietened down significantly compared to the other concentrations, and the roses and jasmine smell dried rather than freshly bloomed. Notably missing in the EdT is the citrusy-juicy floral sweetness of the ylang-ylang, a key note of the other concentrations. This immediately gives the EdT a sharper, crisper, airy yet more rigid or stately character. In the other concentrations, Mitsouko always felt to me like the soft and polite smile of a kind and beautiful person; a radiant yet restrained smile presented from soft lips and warm eyes. The EdT still smiles like the other concentrations, but their back is straighter, their shoulders pushed back, their neck long and stiffened. Despite this statelier presentation the EdT somehow very successfully presents itself as much lighter and more diffusive than its sister concentrations; it's easier to make perfumes more rigid by adding heavy materials, like those that present woody or earthy notes, but the EdT avoids this cliche with impeccable style and grace. This change of character is evident in the dry down as well, with the vetiver playing a much smaller role and dry amber and oakmoss (a synthetic oakmoss to be noted in this modern formulation) playing greater roles than they do in the other concentrations, encouraging Mitsouko to lean more into its chypre side rather than balance out a bit with balsamic amber notes. For the men out there who might find the extrait and EdP concentrations a bit too feminine - a point I've ranted about before - the EdT is likely going to be more in their lane. Thankfully, for the rest of us that believe this to be one of the best perfumes of all time and couldn't give less of a damn which sex it portends, the EdT maintains the overall character and spirit of Mitsouko whomever she was. Though not as complex as the extrait or EdP, keeping her feelings and thoughts more to herself in the EdT, you cannot help but be allured by her magnetic, gentle, and kind beauty. Many thanks to Guerlain for only slightly changing Mitsouko's mood, and not her person.

A classic warm ripe peach, mixed by earthy oakmoss and spices... . از علاقه وافر و ارادت زیادم به برند گرلن و عطرها و عطارهاش نگم ولی فک کنم نهایتا اگر مجبور به انتخاب ناب ترین ترکیبش باشم میتسوکو رو انتخاب کنم. ساخته دست ژاک گرلن بزرگ به سال ۱۹۱۹ میلادی . مطمئنا میتسوکو عطری نیست که سلیقه های امروزی راحت بپسندنش. آلبوم عکسی کهنه و خاکی از یک فضای با شکوه و مجلل کلاسیک هست. . یک عطر هلویی اما نه هلوی باطراوت و آبدار بلکه هلوی گرما خورده ای که از حالت شادابی و تازگی خارج شده. . یک هلوی حسابی رسیده و بالغ. پرز دار و خاک گرفته. شیرینیش تاحدودی مثل شیرینی بخار هلویی هست که از دیگ پخت مربا یا لواشک هلو خارج میشه. مثل نکتار هلو که نمیتونه حس تر و تازگی و شفافیت میوه واقعی رو بازتاب بده. یک شیرینی میوه ای مات، لاکتونیک و برگه مانند ... . این وجهه از رایحه ی هلو رو عطر تلخ و خاکیِ خزه بلوط و وتیور همراهی میکنن و کلیت فضا رو، رو به چوبی شدن میبرن و البته در نت پایه پررنگ تر و واضح تر حس میشن. درواقع مانع شاداب بودن هلوی عطر هم ، همبستر شدنش با همین خزه بلوط پیر و کهنه سال هست. . . عطر در قلب خودش روایح گلی رو جا داده، ترکیب کمرنگی از رز و یاس و درکنار اون یلانگ یلانگ پرقدرت با حس گلی و موز کال مانندش ... . بعلاوه هاله ای گرم و مطبوع ازشیرینی تیز ادویه ای که به کار جلوه ی شرقی میبخشه عطر رو دربرگرفته. همچنین در پس زمینه ی کار از ابتدا تا انتها رایحه ای تلخ و نفتی طور در کنار بویی کَره مانند جریان داره که نمیخوام به صورت حدسی براشون منبعی مشخص کنم اما نمیتونم هم وجودشون رو نادیده بگیرم. . این ترکیب هلو با رایحه خاکی زمینیِ کهنه به من حس برگه های خشک شده و خاک گرفته ی هلو که مدت ها در صندوقچه ی مادربزرگ مونده و کمی هم خشک شده رو میده . حس ریختن هلو توی گونی های خاکی که هنوز بوی برنج میدن . حس دست کشیدن روی پوست مخملی و شسته نشده ی هلو و رد شدن پرز هاش از زیر انگشت ها و بویی که متصاعد میکنه. یا بعضیا میگن هلویی که روی زمین خاکی و خزه بسته ی جنگل افتاده... . با تست عطر منتظر اتفاق خارق العاده ای نباشید که تحسین و تشویقِ مداومِ بزرگان و علاقمندان به عطر از ابتدای ساخت میتسوکو تا کنون رو توجیه کنه. سرتاسر عطر نمایانگر تعادل ظریفی بین حالت میوه ای و حس خاکی چوبی ادویه ای عطره که حُسن عطر هم همین تناسب و هماهنگ کردن این روایح و خلق شاهکاری کم نظیره.

I wrote this review in 2006 for Makeup Alley and I wanted to share it here as well: How to describe this scent? Not sure I can do it justice, but here are my impressions: They say that scent triggers powerful memories. If that's the case, Mitsouko transports me to my beloved late grandmother's bedroom. I mean that in the best possible way - this is NOT a "grandma" perfume! My grandmother was a lovely, elegant woman who passed away when I was 12. I never really knew the name of her signature perfume but now I would say hands down that it was Mitsouko. This fragrance smells just like her vanity, her jewelry boxes, her makeup collection, her clothing closet, the soft skin of her cheek whenever I kissed her. It's a wonderful scent - truly more nostalgic than the period in which I initially smelled it. It transcends time. Mitsouko evokes for me the early 20th century - classy and classic. The scent conjures up a wooden steamer trunk filled with antique lace, an album of sepia photographs and greeting cards, a stack of love letters tied with satin ribbon, hat boxes filled with beautiful chapeaus and veils, an ivory wedding dress preserved with spices and still-soft dried roses. In case my thoughts above don't convey it, Guerlain's Mitsouko is a stunning, thought-provoking chypre fragrance. From first to last it is striking, but I love it even more on drydown, when it becomes softly powdery and "mysterious" as it's name implies. I can not detect the individual notes, nor do I "get" the peach in here. I smell dried flowers (violet, rose?), some amber and spice, yet it has a decidedly cool and dry feeling rather than a warmth. No, Mitsouko is not for everyone. It is one of those perfumes that chooses you. Try it, and see where it takes YOU.

It's a bit of a shame that I shunned the vintage on first sniff. I immediately decided it wasn't for me until I sprayed on the current EdT while in David Jones. I was standing at Jo Malone and the assistant said 'my, my don't you smell fabulous?'. I couldn't work out why he said such a thing... I didn't come into the store wearing anything. I brushed my fringe out of my face and caught a whiff of the forgotten Mitsouko. I fell in love. Flash forward a month and a half, my friend was selling a rare limited edition 30mL bottle from the end of the milennium. I had to have it - it was a steal. Now, this week, on Saturday, it arrived by post (along with Poison Eau de Cologne) and I was hyper ventilating... salivating. It was now mine, I own it .... I really, really own it. I spray it on my hand... from the start, it's very similar to the 2016 Eau de Parfum, which I disliked, but it dries down so elegantly. The oakmoss and peach in this are just to die for. This truly could be the perfect chypre. Mitsouko Eau de Toilette is sadly void of the animalic qualities I found in the vintage parfum I'd tried. The animalic qualities that brought it quite close to Roja Dove's Diaghilev. This one is perhaps a bit fresh, a bit urinous (a floral / moss brand of urinous quality) with some very unusual white flowers, roses and spices. Avant garde, but perhaps a bit traditional at the same time At the present, I have a bit of L'Heure Bleue sprayed on one hand and Mitsouko on the other and I have to say - there's got to be some sort of connection between the two. There's something in both of these scents that smells uncanny and it's unusual to me. Very beautiful side by side. Plus, if it mattets to you, projects really well and lasts HOURS.