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Evgen2011 – :
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.
yura1994 – :
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).
Пантера – :
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.
feelka – :
Everything misted glass. Texturally, like a pearl. Varied and circular stages but minimal note separation–polished into abstraction. The way the notes are sheer, intricate, feminine, delicate, pictorial rather than literal, patterns of flowers rather than flowers crushed: this all recalls fine lace. A peach that smells of a kiss, jasmine that is breath, and the rest is poetry recited softly, dutifully or maybe a prayer. Rosary beads, circles, string, fingers, thoughts, wants, time, soft clicks, murmurs; breakable but shining. Eve’s daughter is making up for her mother’s sins with total purity, but she takes her mother’s gift of knowledge as a private love though she is quiet and chaste. She does not blush.
GARItAPOR – :
The notes are: bergamot, lemon, jasmine, honeysuckle, costus, rose, peach, plum, oak moss, amber and animalic musk. It belongs to the chypre group.
oooten – :
(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.
almafodii – :
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.
Stygo – :
Is Fille d’Eve still available anywhere?