Chanel Coco Mademoiselle

All right, it was bound to happen. A review for Coco Mademoiselle, possibly the most popular fragrance amongst perfume consumers today. True, she doesn’t have the history of Chanel No. 5 but she’s undeniably pretty with a very appealing personality. So let’s cut to the chase already.

Coco Mademoiselle

In Bottle: Strong, very sweet lychee on top with a layer of very sheer florals you really have to focus in order to detect.

Applied: I know what the notes list says but there’s lychee in this and it’s the tippy-top of the notes pyramid. Coco Mademoiselle opens with a blast and a loud announcement that you’ve just arrived and you feel fabulous. It’s sweet, very loud, and predominantly lychee with a faded florals sort of scent lingering in the back. As the lychee settles a bit you get a hint of sweet orange flower and equally sweet mimosa. The fragrance starts to age into the mid-stage and that’s where you get something a bit more exciting. There’s a sheer white florals scent that keeps Coco Mademoiselle from being completely ridiculous as it blends so beautifully with the sweet notes in this fragrance. The rose note in this is particularly beautiful, it masks itself well with the florals and the lingering fruitiness of the opening, but it’s very, very modern rose. I might be a bit crazy here too but there’s something to Coco Mademoiselle that smells a bit like powder to me. Chanel giving me powder in a fragrance this modern? Kudos, Chanel! The dry down is lovely as well, when Coco Mademoiselle flings off the last of her silly lychee and embraces a warm, very clean, vanilla scent. Coco Mademoiselle, like most Chanels, projects and lasts a long time so go light on that sprayer.

Extra: Coco Mademoiselle was composed by Jacques Polge in 2001. It has consistently performed well in terms of sales since its release. Due to the popularity of Coco Mademoiselle, it is often one of the most counterfeited perfumes out there. In fact, I did a quick look on eBay and there’s at least three counterfeits on the first page of results at the time of my writing this. Definitely beware if you plan on buying this online.

Design: The eau de parfum version of Coco Mademoiselle sports the beautiful Chanel No. 5 style with the squarish glass bottle and cap. The cap for Coco Mademoiselle is a frosted glass. The shape is beautiful, the design is fitting and I simply love it. I still abhor most of the eau de toilette versions of Chanel’s fragrances though.

Fragrance Family: Sweet Floral

Notes: Orange, mandarin, orange blossom, bergamot, mimosa, jasmine, turkish rose, ylang-ylang, tonka bean, patchouli, opoponax, vanilla, vetiver, white musk.

All right so what do I think of Coco Mademoiselle? Well, its’ a very popular fragrance. I think it consistently shows up in top perfume sales so I doubt it’s going away any time soon. I actually own a bottle of the stuff but I rarely use it. It is very strong, has very good longevity but it is everywhere. Absolutely everywhere. There’s no exclusivity to Coco Mademoiselle. The fragrance is highly recognizable and it’s a household perfume at this point. Couple these two facts with the realization that a lot of people love it and you get a perfume that pretty much haunts you no matter where you go.

As for me? I’ll be happy spray this on when I feel like it, but Coco Mademoiselle isn’t an every day thing and certainly not a perfume I’d wear if I wanted to avoid smelling like everyone else.

Reviewed in This Post: Coco Mademoiselle, 2009, Eau de Parfum.


Coty L’Origan

Sometimes, just because I’m immature, I like to pretend that Coty only came out with the good stuff and all the stuff they’ve made that’s been terrible just simply doesn’t exist. When I think of Coty these days, the first thing that pops into my head is Lady Gaga and everybody freaking out about her up and coming “blood and semen” perfume. I won’t mention our favorite friend from Etat Libre d’Orange but I will say that the Coty of the early 1900s could have taken “blood and semen” and turned it into something beautiful. These days, I kind of hope Gaga at least gets something that isn’t a fruity-floral. Oh, Coty.

L'Origan

In Bottle: L’Origan has that classic smell that you just can’t imitate these days. It’s dense and complex with a varying, slightly discordant mixture of big honking spices and florals up top.

Applied: Spicy on arrival with a floral touch coming up. There’s a very old-world style to the way this perfume goes on and starts to age. People have compared L’Origan to L’Heure Bleue–well,  I should say they compare L’Heure Bleue to L’Origan because Guerlain’s hit fragrance was released after this one. It’s similar in that both scents trail the same sort of fragrance with L’Heure Bleue exhibiting a much colder, more melancholy personality. L’Origan, to me, is warm and much more animalic. There’s a hint of animal in the opening there and I experienced hints of animalics throughout the livespan of the scent. It’s blended very well, though, not overpowering the scent but rather giving it a bit of sensuality and added depth. Another thing about L’Origan vs. L’Heure Bleue, it’s spicier with slightly less noticeable florals and it’s ultimately a brighter scent though its uses of the  spices are very familiar. There’s a powderiness to this that tends to show up in vintage fragrances as well as a heavy dose of clove. As L’Origan approaches dry down it maintains that spiciness the whole time the florals are totally gone but what’s waiting at the bottom is this thick, rich warmness that reminds me a bit of slick metals and mosses.

Extra: L’Origan was released in 1905 and still survives today–though in an undoubtedly heavily reformulated state. As always, vintage is leaps and bounds better.

Design: The original L’Origan was bottled in a flat glass bottle of a squarish shape with the Coty seal on it. I had a warm, amber-like color and was a bit reminiscent of Chypre de Coty in appearance. The modern bottle (pictured) is reminiscent of a flower bulb with a spiky crown for a cap. I have to say I prefer the old style better.

Fragrance Family: Spicy

Notes: Bergamot, orange, coriander, pepper, peach, nutmeg, clove, jasmine, violet, rose, ylang-ylang, orange flower, benzoin, cedar, incense, vanilla, sandalwood, musk, coumarin, civet.

Somehow L’Origan comes out as the happy side of L’Heure Bleue. These two could be best friends, though probably not sisters. I have to say, despite my love for L’Heure Bleue–I like L’Origan a bit more.

Reviewed in This Post: L’Origan, ~1950, Eau de Parfum.


Floris China Rose

Floris is one of those crazy-old houses that no body thinks is really that old. But it is. I attribute this misconception to most people not knowing about the House of Floris. But tune your noses to receive because they’ve got some beautiful stuff out there.

China Rose

In Bottle: Sweet, warm roses with a fruity header and a delicate note of some non-rose floral that balances out the opening.

Applied: China Rose, I think, is a very well-balanced fragrance from the top to the bottom. It starts off with a nice fruity rose note and as the fruits fade you get more rose. This isn’t modern, cleaned up, scrubbed rose, but a more sensual rose of times past that isn’t afraid to get her elbows a little dirty. The clove in China Rose gives the fragrance a spicy, sultry, irresistible charm. This is an oriental rose fragrance, a light one that will hold close to your skin and remain a rose fragrance until its dry down where the rose gives way to the stronger, warmer, clove and spices that dominate the remainder of the fragrance.

Extra: Floris was established in 1730–yes, the 1700s. As far as I’m concerned they are among one of the oldest surviving fragrance houses out there and they are still pumping out beautiful fragrances almost three hundred years later. Keep rocking, Floris.

Design: China Rose isn’t bottled in any special way that sets it apart from the usual Floris bottles. It’s a glass bottle, looks a bit old-fashioned and plain, but suits the purpose just fine. The label is a soft, deep pink bearing the name of the fragrance house and the fragrance name. The fragrance house name is also etched into the cap of the bottle.

Fragrance Family: Spicy Floral

Notes: Raspberry, peach, rose, violet, cloves, geranium, patchouli, amber, tonka, vanilla, vetiver.

Floris tends to do these delicate, soft, intimate fragrances that don’t project or shout their presence and for someone who enjoys going light as much as I do, their perfumes are beautifully balanced with just the right amount of sillage and longevity.

Reviewed in This Post: China Rose, 2008, Eau de Toilette.


Miss Dior Cherie L’Eau

Miss Dior Cherie L’Eau is the green little flanker from 2009. It’s older sister, Miss Dior Cherie was a smash hit when she debut in 2005. I wrote a review of Miss Dior Cherie almost a year ago and proclaimed my amazement at one of the few perfume headaches I’ve ever gotten. And so, enter her flanker.

Miss Dior Cherie L'Eau

In Bottle: Sweet and flowery with a hint of cleanness. It’s like I’m smelling a bar of too-flowery soap.

Applied: So Miss Dior Cherie L’Eau is a little disappointing in the bottle, does she get any better on the skin? Eh, no, not really. She goes on with that sweet florals thing again, there’s a hint of sharpness to this that makes me think fresh and clean like a shower gel or a bar of soap or something. I’ll commend this for being less sweet than Miss Dior Cherie but there’s not much else to it than a very familiar, but very banal shower gel scent. The mid-stage is marked with a squeaky clean sweet floral blend of white flowers and fruits. The dry down is a floral woodsiness with a dash of sharp white musk for good measure.

Extra: Miss Dior Cherie L’Eau has a good thing going for it if you like weaker perfumes that don’t last very long but can still make you wrinkle your nose. This stuff smells nice, and if you like squeaky clean smells and little else, this is a good bet–just don’t expect it to last very long. The longevity seriously sucks.

Design: Miss Dior Cherie L’Eau is bottled in a similar shape to Miss Dior Cherie but with a taller bottle and a frosted glass-looking bow  and cap. It’s still fantastically cute packaging. The juice is also an appeasing shade of yellow-green.

Fragrance Family: Fresh Floral

Notes: Bitter orange, lily, gardenia, woods, musk.

I admit it, I do like this a lot more than Miss Dior Cherie. But the fact that I didn’t get a headache from this probably has something to do with that. In the end though, Miss Dior Cherie L’Eau, is just not special. She smells like a great deal of other things out there and there isn’t much to set her apart. The bottle sure looks cute though!

Reviewed in This Post: Miss Dior Cherie L’Eau, 2009, Eau de Toilette.


Houbigant Raffinee 1982

Houbigant is one of those old perfume houses that made the early 1900s the romantic, complex perfume era that it was. Their fragrance, Raffinée was released in 1982. It was a strong contender in the time of the oriental perfumes.

In Bottle: Opens up with spicy and sweet carnation. I love it when carnation is done right and that’s when there’s a little bit of sweetness thrown in there to calm the flower down. I’m delighted to see Raffinée work the floral opening like this.

Applied: Spicy sweet carnation on the opening, there’s a floral quality up there that makes Raffinée smell elegant and light. The fragrance heads into the mid-stage dolling itself up with some light florals and a dusting of tuberose while the heavy-hitting incense and smooth vanilla amp up. The spiciness takes on a more fleeting role until the dry down where cinnamon makes a bit of an appearance. There’s a powdery quality to this fragrance that smacks of the clean sharp personality of an aldeyhyde treatment. This powderiness remains throughout its lifespan that echoes that clean and classic sensibility of classic perfumery. As Raffinée continues to age it takes on a warm, amber note and a slight bitterness on its way to dry down. The dry down is a pleasantly green, warm cinnamon and vanilla amber fragrance with a bit of woodsiness to round itself off. Raffinée has excellent longevity on me, and its complexity is absolutely fantastic. The projection on me was decent as well.

Extra: Raffinée’s been a victim of reformulation to make it less objective and easier to wear. I haven’t yet smelled the reformulation but of the opinions of the reformulation so far, I can’t say I’m in a hurry to. Houbigant was established in Paris in 1775 by Jean-François Houbigant. Nowadays Houbigant. You may see Raffinée listed “by Dana” instead of “by Houbigant”. The House of Houbigant has a long, sad story that saw the fall of a once great fragrance house to what it is now. You can read up about it at Perfume Projects.

Design: Unfortunately I was unable to identify an actual vintage bottle to use as a photo and I have yet to actually hold a vintage bottle myself. There’s a ton of different iterations for this fragrance as well which does not help in the least in terms of identifying which style the original formula came in. Adding to this complication is Houbigant’s very sad but very complicated recent history and Raffinée not being as well known as it should be. I would like to take an educated guess but would rather not risk being wrong. The fragrance’s general theme seems to be art deco etched in gold on red which sounds like a tasteful treatment. Of the bottles I looked at, the ones involving the art deco design gave the packaging a bit of old design appeal. Much more interesting that the designs that lacked the art deco elements. If you can help me out with the vintage fragrance’s design, please leave a comment!

Fragrance Family: Oriental

Notes: Carnation, orange blossom, plum, clary sage, jasmine, citruses, bergamot, rose, mimosa, tuberose, tonka bean, orchid, osmanthus, orris root, hiacynth and ylang-ylang, spices, cypress, sandalwood, cinnamon, musk, vanilla, vetiver, incense.

If you do seek out a bottle of Raffinée, I highly–with italics and everything–suggest you look for a vintage formula. And by vintage in this case, I mean its 1980s self to get the full effect of Raffinée. Any later and you may wander into watered-down and reformulated territory. Also be aware that true vintage Raffinée is difficult to find and quite rare (I, myself, have a small decant scraped out of the recesses of obscure fragrance). Many who label the fragrance as “by Houbigant” are actually talking about a newer formulation that should instead by labeled “by Dana”. It’s complicated, I know. I would appreciate any help in identifying a true vintage bottle.

Reviewed in This Post: Raffinée, ~1985, Eau de Parfum.


Chanel Beige

Beige is a member of Chanel’s Les Exclusifs line. It’s an agreeable perfume that, like most Chanels, has that “smells expensive” (often is expensive too) quality to it. It’s also a fantastic little office number that can be worn almost anywhere.

Chanel Beige

In Bottle: A pretty little floral fragrance that floats and moves like a gentle, calming breeze. If you’re used to Chanels smelling heavy, too sweet, too heady, then Beige’s sheer first impression will surprise you like it surprised me.

Applied: That sheer floral accord up top again, gentle and soothing. Something I never thought I’d say about a Chanel was that it was soothing. Chanels are bold and usually bright. Beige is quiet and reserved. Still utterly elegant but she doesn’t shout her presence, rather, she reminds you of it by sitting in the corner and smelling rather pleasant. My friend tuberose comes up light and wispy dragging with it a sweet powered honey scent that lays itself over the fragrance and stays there for the rest of its lifespan. Tuberose has the bad habit of being too obvious in perfume but Beige gives its tuberose just enough lead to be noticed but not enough to overpower. I’m surprised at how well-behaved it is, and how well-behaved it keeps being as the fragrance evolves into a warm frangipani cleaned up with a sweet freesia note. I particularly appreciate how nice the freesia and tuberose are playing together. The dry down comes on a bit quick, Beige doesn’t project much or have very good longevity, I get a bit of bitter green in this that creates an interesting mix with the honey powder.

Extra: Of interest is Beige’s history or rather, the history of its name. Its moniker was borrowed from another Beige, a vintage fragrance by house Chanel that lived many decades ago.

Design: Beige is bottled similarly to the other members of Chanel’s Les Exclusifs line. A big glass rectangle. Excellent to hold, has a great weightiness to it, totally minimalist in style that completely suits the perfume and the icing on the cake is that addictive metal cap.

Fragrance Family: Sweet Floral

Notes: Hawthorn, freesia, frangipani, honey.

What I love about Les Exclusifs is the fact that the bottles come in 200ml. They are expensive for sure, but you get a lot of perfume for your money. Beige is a great choice for Chanel if you feel their mainstream attractions are too strong or too boring. She’s sheer and easy to work with.

Reviewed in This Post: Beige, 2010, Eau de Toilette.


Chanel Coco

Chanel Coco is resting near the top of my favorite Chanel perfumes list. This fragrance couldn’t be any further from its younger incarnation, the pink and bubbly Coco Mademoiselle.

Chanel Coco

In Bottle: Add in spice for warm, a wispy thread of flowers, and a delicately peeled citrus note. Coco smells warm right off the bat with a bit of citrus to clean it up.

Applied: Coco wastes no time just digging into this. It comes off spicy right away, throwing cinnamon and clove at you to warm itself up as the citrus and wispy flowers quickly give way to the midstage where we’re greeted with a delightfully clean, spicy, warm jasmine and rose complex. A lot of perfumes rely on jasmine and rose together but that never seems to make the combination any less beautiful–particularly when it’s used in such a fine tuned balanced such as in Coco. There is the smallest drop of civet in this during the later half of the midstage. The civet in Coco is so well done and well balanced. I don’t normally like it in perfumes but this civet blends really well with the overarching spicy cleanness that the note adds a depth and sensual feel to the fragrance without making it smell too harsh and alienating. The dry down is an equally spicy amber with a hint of sandalwood and a smooth layer of tonka.

Extra: Chanel Coco was released in 1984 and was composed by Chanel’s in house perfumer, Jacques Polge. It is a little sad to see that when you do a search for “Chanel Coco”, most of the results come back for Coco Mademoiselle.

Design: Like most of Chanel’s other widely popular fragrances, Coco comes in various packaging. If you go for the full service parfum concentration deal you get a glass rectangular bottle so often associated with No. 5. Coco’s bottle has a black seal band running around the neck and a black label.

Fragrance Family: Spicy Oriental

Notes: Angelica, mimosa, frangipani, mandarin, cascarilla, orange flower, Bulgarian rose, jasmine, labdanum, ambrette seed, opopanax, benzoin, tonka, vanilla.

Like with most Chanel fragrances, Coco lasts a very long, very impressive time. She’s a sophisticated lady and entirely wearable considering the era it came out in.

Reviewed in This Post: Coco, 2009, Eau de  Parfum.


Jean Patou Joy

Joy by Jean Patou, released in 1930, was busy being the most expensive perfume in the world during a time when a lot of people didn’t have much. It intrigued individuals for years who wondered what was in this magical juice that made it cost so much. These days, Joy is still pricey but no where even close to the most expensive perfume in the world anymore. Thank goodness. Joy

In Bottle: Roses. ROSES in all caps even. Joy starts out with a huge blend of roses layered heavily on top so that barely anything else can be discerned past this rose force field.

Applied: Roses still in the forefront but let it age a bit and I can smell the jasmine. It’s a gorgeous, full, heady jasmine that intermingles so well with Joy’s rose bouquet that the entire mixture has this bright, happy, scent to it. As the rose continues to calm down tuberose comes up to join the party. The florals remind me of a big bouquet, resting in a vase on a sunny day. Joy is what a perfectly paced perfume smells like as it evolves and morphs into this pretty flowery thing. This smells like optimism. Glorious, well-blended and well-made optimism that dries down eventually into a dusty sandalwood with a surprising presence of indole (our friend civet!) at the very end.

Extra: A part of me still wishes Joy held its title as the most expensive perfume in the world. It’s name is Joy after all. Instead, if you ask someone what the most expensive perfume in the world is, they’ll tell you it’s Clive Christian’s Imperial Majesty. A baccarat cased perfume that’s supposed to push for $215,000.  I doubt that’s worth the price of admission.

Design: Classic, elegant, simple bottle design. Joy has a nice weight to it and its simple, clear glass, plain label look reminds me of Chanel’s bottle design, but no where near as minimalist. It works and it will continue to work for many years. You simply can’t go out of style with a bottle that looks this classic.

Fragrance Family: Floral Classic

Notes: Rose, ylang-ylang, aldehydes, pear,  tuberose, jasmine, orris root, musk,  sandalwood, civet.

I think the question that remains is whether or not Joy was worth the hefty price tag it once sported. My answer? Well, not the juice, certainly the novelty of owning and using the most expensive fragrance in the world would be worth it for some people but I’m a bit more practical and think Joy’s present price point suits it well for the kind of scent that it is. As for that $215,000 thing we’ve got now? I’m curious but mostly apathetic. What juice could possibly be that good? Besides, most of the price tag has to do with packaging the thing.

Reviewed in This Post: Joy, ~1980, Eau de  Parfum.


Molinard Habanita

You may have heard of Habanita’s original purpose by now. Yes, it was a product introduced initially for people to scent their cigarette smoke. Yeah, you heard that right. Scenting cigarette smoke in 1921 was probably not as weird or as novel a notion as it is now. Habanita evolved into a regular perfume just three years after its introduction in 1924. Habanita

In Bottle: Dry green and woodsy fragrance. Like leaves clinging to a branch and scorching in the sun.

Applied: Initial flare of dry woods that doesn’t evolve much for a little while and by the time the flowers hit you, you were probably wondering when that happened and why no one gave you the memo. Habanita is a dusty, woodsy, mildly floral fragrance with a slightly grassy note in between its opening and middle stages. It’s strange–but very interesting when compared to most other recent perfume offerings. One of the best things about this fragrance for me is the dry down that reaches a warm, leathery, amber note at the bottom with a hint of sweetness and a lingering dusting of the dry woods. It’s fascinating to smell. Even more fascinating to contemplate cigarette smoke that was supposed to smell like this.

Extra: I imagine with its initial purpose, Habanita might have mingled a bit with the smoke which would have altered the fragrance just a little bit possibly tempering or at least masking how dry this scent can be.

Design: Black bottle with Molinard’s signature water nymph design on the glass. The nymph design is very reminiscent of the 1920s’ sensibilities in design. The bottle features a gold metal cap and sprayer nozzle.

Fragrance Family: Woodsy Classic

Notes: Bergamot, peach, orange blossom, galbanum, oakmoss, jasmine, rose, ylang ylang, heliotrope, patchouli, amber, leather, vetiver, cedar, sandalwood, benzoin, vanilla.

Habanita is surprisingly cheap for a fragrance that’s been around for so long and is, by all accounts and purposes, a rather pleasant and unique take (well, unique when you consider the other stuff being put out these days). Online discounters often carry Habanita’s  Eau de Toilette version for $20-40.

Reviewed in This Post: Habanita, ~2000, Eau de Toilette.


Guerlain Jicky

So Jicky, what do you want me to say about you? Well, I ask because everyone the world over has already said what they wanted. It just seems I’d only add yet another opinion to the already loaded mix of what makes Jicky tick. Ah well, let’s give it a stab anyway. I started off this blog reviewing Mitsouko of all things! Jicky

In Bottle: Spicy lavender, warmed up and dotted with a slight citrus topper in the opening. Jicky is immediately alarming and comforting at the same time.

Applied: Initial flare up of citrus, a big yellow splash in the opening to get you ready for the lavender that rolls in soon after. The lavender really shines with Jicky for me. It’s normally a comforting scent, this lavender, but the Jicky lavender gets a bit indolic at times thanks to what I can only assume is the civet used in this. It’s very heady and frankly speaking, she doesn’t smell “right” but that doesn’t stop her from smelling awesome. For those of you not in the know, “indolic” is a polite term for “smells like poo”. Breathe past that minute note of “off-ness” and you’ll be rewarded with a spicy leathery quality to it. There’s definitely animalic swayings in this fragrance. It’s not soft and tender lavender for sure and if you were to drop this into a soap people would be wondering what’s wrong with you while at the same time wondering how they could get in on it too. This is dirty stuff but it’s classy stuff, and it amuses me a great deal. She doesn’t try to fruit it up or pass it off as some sort of therapy and just for that alone, Jicky should be given a crown. It’s simply you and lavender, leather, spice, and hilarious indole. And you had better take it. Jicky uses that full lavender with an air of sophistication and a sense of daring all the way into the closer where the lavender fades a warmed dusty tonka greets you at the bottom with that ever present indole. Something about Jicky smells familiar but at the same time incredibly lush and hard to grasp. If Jicky could talk, I imagine she’d say, “What? You don’t like it? Then it’s obvious you don’t get it and I’ll thank you for getting out of my way”. Yeah, that’s Jicky. She doesn’t care if you don’t like her. She knows she’s good.

Extra: I love Jicky. I don’t love how she smells because I am a self-professed, shame-faced lover of clean and easy to wear. But I love what she stands for and appreciate what she is. She’s an era in perfume long gone but stubbornly and regally embodied in her bold presence that just refuses to go quietly. She’s one of the few Guerlains that I will probably never wear simply because she’s too much for me. But I can appreciate her all the same. Especially for being so “in your face” with all the fresh, clean, fruity stuff being pumped out today. I find it delicious to imagine a group of bottles, a hundred or so in number, of celebrity fragrances could be placed on the floor in a room. And there might be a bottle of Jicky sitting in the middle, waiting for some unsuspecting person to come by, pick her up and get slapped in the face with all that she is. Never change, Jicky. Never change.

Design: Those of you familiar with the Nahema design will recognize the image above. Though it should be noted that Jicky most definitely came first. Beautiful bottle, classical look, wonderful feel. Pictured above is the parfum concentration placed into an fantastic, elegant flacon. It’s Guerlain at its best.

Fragrance Family: Classic Aromatic

Notes: Lemon, mandarin, bergamot, lavender, orris, jasmin, rose, patchouli, vetiver, leather, amber, civet, tonka, incense, benzoin.

You don’t really need me to rehash the romantic story of Jicky and her creation again, do you? Nah, I’ll just leave this post to say that if you were here and reading about Jicky, and were interested, there is a large online database of information readily available with a quick Google search about the conceptualization of Jicky, where you can get Jicky, and what–if anything at all–has happened to her in all these years since 1889 when she was first introduced. Or you can click here.

Reviewed in This Post: Jicky, ~1970, Eau de  Parfum.