Fille d'Eve

Fille d'Eve somehow feels both mirthful and carnal, as if in between the merriment of a carousel and the hanky hanky in the dark tunnel of love. The golden glow of lemon and bergamot (only ever so slightly tarnished here, but still lovely) in its beginning recalls that of Rochas Moustache or even YSL Pour Homme, but this is clearly gussied up by some florals. There's a ripe honeysuckle, nectarous and sweet, combined with steamy sugar plum conserve with clove, and I am reminded somewhat of Roudnitska's Parfum de Therese. Then I notice peach and rose dosey-doeing and a certain evocative animal warmth, like cream, rises to the top. It's the costus: vegetal, earthy, but also sebaceous, like unwashed bedhead or when one rubs or presses on their face with their fingertips and then smells the expressed oils (interestingly enough, I've always found mine to be peachy smelling, especially around the nose). Juicy fruit merges with sweaty flesh, musk melon meets musk bosom, soft petals meet inky moss. I soon realized that I wish I had a quantity of Fille d'Eve to swim in, or at least wade in. As I wear this, I am lifting the covers over to me—I could create a blanket hut that contains my Fille d'Eve-annoited skin in its enclosure and just drift away in all of its sable splendor.

I have a large lalique eau de toilette bottle. It smells very similar to a sample of very old Madame Rochas EDC. Soft but very warm. I wish it were stronger, but it is very smooth and it's true what others say that it gives the impression of warm skin. Hard to pick out any singular notes. EDIT: I have acquired a big bottle pure parfum and it's just such an interesting chypre. At first I thought my bottle had gone off because the first spray was intensely hesperidic with lots of oakmoss, too. It overwhelmed the notes I was familiar with in the EdT I have. This bottle shows me that Fille D'Eve is indeed a chypre, albeit a warm, sexy one like Mitsouko. I get the bergamot, oakmoss, and even a bit of lemon at first. Then it gradually settles down into this lovely peachy, powdery, animalic skin musk with the earlier notes still hanging around. Costus is what sets this scent apart for me, and I wish more perfumes used thus note. This and castoreum are so seductive to me. The costus-peach make this perfume smell like the unwashed hair of a very attractive person. The aphrodisiac scent you experience when you snuggle close to your partner's neck. This could really be unisex.

I have the 120 ml bottle she mentions on the review below. It's beautiful, a strong and unusual scent. Nothing like it on the market ttoday. It wouldn't sell, it would scare the young consumers off. It smells like perfume, no candy or cake no gourmand here. It reminds me of vintage Miss Dior in esprit de parfum form, Maybe a little like vintage Nina if I remember it correctly, but I'd have to double check on that. I smell something spicy in this, something that's got zing! It also smells warm, like warm skin. Perhaps the costus that makes me think of warm skin. It's so well blended that is smells of its own entity, I can't really pick up any distinct notes. It's heavy and I can smell it on my clothes the next day. Projects well, I get whiffs of it whenever I move. If you find this for sale and are a lover of old school perfumery, buy it. (if it's in your price range).

My grandfather was a gentleman farmer. One time, he gave me a peach he had just picked, but made me sit in the garage on an upturned bucket so as not to "make a big mess for Grandma." After 35 years, I can still remember with such clarity. It was warm from the sun, juicy indeed, and perfectly ripe and sweet. Fille d'Eve recalls that moment for me. The smell of outside, the lawn, the trees, the cement, the sun, and the messy peach. Sensual yet fragile.

Yes, La Maison Ricci has launched a new miniature collection box which includes this one, actually the classic scents. And I think I saw 50ml bottles in a shoppe.

The notes are: bergamot, lemon, jasmine, honeysuckle, costus, rose, peach, plum, oak moss, amber and animalic musk. It belongs to the chypre group.

(A review of perfectly preserved, temperature and light controlled vintage extract from the mid Seventies)The thing about "Fille d'Eve," and all of the Great Nina Ricci comps, the thing never to forget, is that they are all perfect illustrations of what the French would call "Parfums de Seduction." Outside of the realms of fantasy, and in the real world as we know it today, if you were out to actually captivate and then ultimately seduce someone to fall wantonly into the sheets of your bed, you'd be well served to wear something like "Fille d'Eve." In the language of fashion that is specific to the XXe Century, the very word "Romance" is synonymous with the crisp, sing song sound of "Nina Ricci," and everything about this House and all of its manifestations have been about the dreamy, real life haze of love, and how it is always a gentle, somewhat secretive thing, not necessarily understood by anyone but the two parties involved. Thus, no Nina Ricci ever screams, knowing only secretive whisperings. "Fille d'Eve" is never wan or so delicate it's not detectible. It just happens to be breathing "Bite Me!" very suggestively from start to finish. What a logical gesture on the part of Marc Lakique himself to chose to encase this comp in an apple, perfectly fitted out with a cunning glass ground stopper in the form of a leaf, and this prior to the advent of Apple Records, and, obviously, "Apple." The colour code defines it specifically as one of those rosy brown ones, often called "Bitter Apples." Further irony: The name implies it to be rich, dark and blood red, which colour code, ironically was later used for "Farouche," a name which only the French would invent, which means "Terribly Shy yet Utterly Ferocious." Fille d'Eve, though, simply means Girl of Eve. Girl, or perhaps more concisely, Daughter. Upon first whiff on litmus, this extract breathes a rush of Spring: The kind of "First Hint" that can be detected as early as mid March, when it is clear that the worst part of the grisly, dark days of Winter are finally slinking away to mercifully hide for another six months. There is, by all outward appearances, no "perfumey" quality to Fille d'Eve, a Germaine Cellier comp: One of two masterworks orchestrated for Nina Ricci, the other being the delicately delicious "Coeur-Joie." (Heart's Content") In spite of the fact that Germaine's "patte," or signature, was always a character somewhat strange, often groundbreaking, this one does not announce itself by a blasting fanfare of presence, as do some of her others, Bandit, Vent Vert....Clearly, Germaine Cellier had in mind to channel the inimitable quiet hush that is the Hallmark of Nina Ricci, who in the XXe Century produced some of the worlds greatest, and finest, perfumes, with a standard rivaled only by Jean Patou. On litmus, this extract begins slowly, all daffodils in bud, paperwhites, cool, chilling wind, but within ten to fifteen minutes begins to heat up: The Birth of an Early, Ice-Laden Spring Day, which promises to bring a thaw. References are difficult to summon. At first whiff I was reminded of Chamade, but only for an instant, as this has nothing of a Guerlain. As it warms, Patou's "Caline" is harkened, though very distinctly as it lacks the, boozy, Art Deco depth that every Patou, save for Joy, seems to have in spades. The warmth that announces the unfolding of delicate spring blossoms and pale, linden yellow leaves quickly becomes stable, and no dark, resinous base can be intuited, save for a slight pepperiness that does emerge, though no more harsh than that which emanates from a perfect, full blown carnation. The singular qualities found only in the great Nina Ricci comps are intrinsic to this scent: Very obvious, in fact: One of these, perhaps the most remarkable, is the capacity to forever maintain softness, and never become heavy or overbearing. For a perfume destined to be held captive in a masterful work of crystal, in spite of being powerfully equipped with an abstract apple note, Fille d'Eve seems unwilling to be called "Fruity." The small amount of obvious fruit that could be found here would smack of the pineapple accord that is so obvious in Patou's "Colony," yet, again, remains so expertly woven within the context of the scent that ultimately becomes very clearly a fragrance distinct unto itself, which as I can thus far surmise has no peers: Fille d'Eve is Green, but it is not. It is a Green Floral, but it is not. It is a Green Chypre but it is not. It seems to refuse to behave within the context of perfumery, and instead maneuvers more in the realm of Nature itself. A built in aroma of skin that develops ever so discretely, for instance, could scarcely be called "Leather," or "Musk," and quietly blooms somewhere within the heart. Nothing about this scent can be analyzed or mapped out by any means typical to the art of perfumery: A phenomenon at which Germaine Cellier excelled, and in fact, owned. Settled in to the rich, luxurious middle notes, Fille d'Eve still blows as gently as a soft breeze through the delicate, budding leaves of naissant Spring, when flowers and fruits are budding, but have not, as of yet, become full blown, all the while carrying upon it a very faint lyric: Nina Ricci. Nina Ricci. But, as with all classic Nina Ricci comps, Fille d'Eve never speaks in any tone other than than a lilting whisper. The only obvious thing about Fille d'Eve is that it poses no questions as to the gender of its creator: This is a chic woman's declaration. Fille d'Eve spells one thing out very concisely, leaving no questions nor ambiguities: It is a fragrance designed by a tall, beautiful, quirky and impeccably chic woman, and none could compare to Germaine Cellier. In France, a country where innate panache and flights of fancy are taken very seriously, she had legendary style: Signature? Among many, her cigarettes misted with Bandit extract, a scent she was known to devise exclusively to this end, and a devoted maid attendant to her and her small dog at all times, including in public: It is fondly remembered by her peers that Germaine Cellier went nowhere without either of these two loyal companions in tow.

I have the parfum version, 15 ml in Lalique crystal apple in pink shiny Nina Ricci box. To me it's related to Le Parfum de Therese and the relaunch several years ago of Diorama -- fruity chypres. But it reminds me the most of a parfum version of Diorella but even more "dreamy" and ethereal, almost a "whipped" version of Diorella, as in whipped cream. I find it quite citrussy / floral which reminds me only in tone of Guerlain's Philtre d'Amour. But the actual smell is like overripe fruit, even though the costus is not that strong on me.........a smell Annick Goutal likened to dirty socks, unwashed hair, and goat.....all in an attractive way. Picking up the crystal apple fills me with joy. Eve's daughter is a beauty and as a total concept (parfum, name, bottle, box) it's not only romantic but somehow mystical and iconic. I read some places that Germaine Cellier is the perfumer, and as I also have Coeur Joie by her 15 ml parfum in Heart Shaped Lalique bottle with heart hole, which is by her, I find that one a lot sweeter and potent, even honey-like. I read that some people find Fille d'Eve "fuzzy" as if seen through frosted glass, which my husband interpreted as muted. I find it intriguing like afternoon shade in the summer under a large old tree, shot through with flickering patches of light from the leaves in a slight breeze.For me a truly beguiling perfume.

Did you ever have the feeling when you were drinking that the music needed to be LOUDER? That’s how I feel when I wear this, drunk and like I want to blast it and have everyone smell how incredible it is. Some of the parfum concentration leaked in the box a bit en route to me and all I can do is huff the lid. The cloves and leather dance together and even out their respective harshness. The honeysuckle is absolutely exquisite. My words cannot do justice to this scent —- it is just sublime. If the notes appeal to you, rob a bank and buy a bottle, you won’t be sorry. I have a the EDT and EDP, both are 1960s.

I was very Lucky to buy just a small sample from an American E bay seller. This fragrance is typical NR. This is a real masterpiece like most of the NR fragrances until 1990. It is mature, different, smelling like real perfume. It also reveals that it has been made with great effort through some time, not overnight. It takes selfconfidence, maturity and majestic elegance to wear this, nothing less. I will keep on looking for this until I find it and I am going to give this as a present to a certain woman i know.

Please, help. Does anybody know, when was released version in a bottle like at the main picture, 120 ml? I bought Capricci Nina Ricci in the same bottle. And saw also Farouche at the same volume.

Like Miss Dior with less green and more fruit. It has that same wet hair, animalic hot musk sex smell.