Ninfeo Mio opens with an assault of the harshest citrus notes you could ever imagine. It’s green, unripe, it’s live. After about half an hour, a transition starts towards fig. In all this fizzy start, there is also a very subdued, yet constant warm feeling of woods. They’re there and they’re not there…
As it turned out, I’m quite fig-challenged. Fig was all over the reviews of this Annick Goutal perfume, and when I finally managed to feel it, it was like a constant bang on my nose, intense and evident, to the point I wanted to shout alright, I got it, shut the … up now. Yet, it took me three visits at Brown&Thomas to finally find it. Actually, four, if I include a botched attempt, when I was spotted by a SA before having the chance to spray it, and made the huge mistake of not declining her help. I ended up with a blotter with Armani Acqua di Gioia Essenza in my hand, still wondering what the hell had just happened.
Anyway, fig will be there with citrus, both getting along well, but not really mixing, you can still feel them separately for a good while, until the citrus finally fades away and leaves fig alone until the end, where woods will prove that they were not just an illusion.
Don’t expect a flimsy, wishy-washy fragrance: Ninfeo Mio Annick Goutal will last until the day after if you leave it there. The frag is a tad expensive, so don’t buy it until you have a clear idea of your taste for fig: it’s potentially great or potentially nauseating, but you’ll only find out after a while.