Ninfeo Mio by Goutal

What a beautiful fragrance, yet it doesn’t invite me out. It’s a subtle experience, free from harshness or strange magic. It opens bright and citrusy, with a bitter, very green touch thanks to the fig leaf that evolves to its full potential. It’s woody and creamy, highly evocative; you can feel it, though I see it more for walking around the house or those days when you fancy some relaxation. I don’t see it as a purchase; 100 ml seems like an absolute bargain. A well-chosen decant. It looks a bit feminine, but for me, it’s totally unisex. It performs well, doesn’t project much, but lasts close to the skin. On clothes, it lasts and lasts.

Ninfeo Mio is citrusy and green, nothing more. It starts with bitter, acidic citrus wrapped in a green, rough accord, very realistic. It smells like you’re stepping into a grove of fig trees. It’s linear, but with a spectacular scent that loses intensity very quickly, with no variations except a subtle talc-like dry-down. Nothing else. I don’t know if it’s been reformulated, much like the ugly bottles before, because it neither lasts nor projects. In my case, within an hour it’s close to the skin. As a fragrance, it’s a 10, but its performance is a disaster. For me, Fico di Amalfi remains the absolute monarch: the best with fig leaves I know. Try Ninfeo before buying, but not for its scent—which is wonderful—but for its poor performance.

Second fragrance from Annick Goutal, and I must say I didn’t like it. Nevertheless, let me describe the perfume. Its opening is a strong citrus aroma that floods everything, with Amalfi lemon prevailing over the others, except for the cider which gives a pleasant combination. Afterwards, I don’t feel the fig leaf as others say, nor woody notes; I’m left with only a talc-like scent. Projection is moderate, five hours, then close to the skin, leaving only that talc-like note which isn’t to my liking. The packaging is excellent, as is all niche, and the atomiser is the best I’ve used; the bottle is very pretty. For use, spring would be the convenient season and daytime. It leaves me with a sweet-and-sour taste; I had high expectations and it ended up amounting to nothing.

I was gifted a sample and just sprayed it on a card. Love at first sight! I love it. It’s a wonderful green. The first moments reminded me a bit of Estee Lauder’s Private Collection, but then it took another direction. I love that sensation of green pulp, fresh stalk juice, something like eating a handful of fresh parsley but much less ‘dark green’. I can’t stop smelling it. I don’t mind the duration or projection; this definitely goes on the list of passions. After a while, the watery juiciness fades and a more talc-like accord appears, yet equally intensely green. There’s a dry-down moment that reminds me of the smell rising when cleaning cat litter; that light powder when stirring, bringing the scent of urine mixed with diatomaceous earth. It’s not a bad smell (somewhat acidic and soapy, an effect of amino acids like feline and cysteine-S-isopentanol; it doesn’t smell like ammonia), just that it’s very strong and repulsive when cleaning the cat litter box, but in Ninfeo Mio I find it moderate and pleasant, adding to the powdery, dry sensation. As hours pass, it softens greatly and leaves a woody base with green sparkles and barely floral notes. Today I could pot a giant pot that covers the car gate; while bagging the leaves, a little scent rose up that reminded me of this glorious Ninfeo and made me smile. I have the EDT. Postscript to Yadorán d’Vinea: judging Chanel 19 in the same category as Ninfeo Mio doesn’t seem appropriate to me; they are different olfactive families. Chanel 19 doesn’t manage to harmonise green/aquatic/citrus; it doesn’t seek that harmony; it’s a green leather floral. Smelling it expecting to find green/aquatic/citrus doesn’t yield good results.

Ninfeo Mio is a fragrance inspired by the gardens of Ninfa, a tourist landscape in central Italy. It has been described very assertively both in scent and performance; it’s easy to conclude that Ninfeo Mio is one of those fragrances where everything has already been said, but if it’s possible to extract certain appreciations. To begin with, Ninfeo Mio is a beautiful fragrance, as atmospheric as it is photorealistic; it evokes with absolute loyalty the scent of fresh, living, and damp herbs freshly cut alongside lemon extracts (it recalls wet grass in the mornings). Ninfeo is as citrusy as it is green, it handles an aquatic ‘aura’ very well; it’s charismatic, energetic and sparkling (literally). The fragrance seems to develop horizontally; in my experience, the notes over time are essentially the same (if vertical, it would be very static). I’d conclude that Ninfeo combines green/aquatic/citrus accords with the success that other fragrances don’t manage (like Chanel N°19, Chance Eau Fraiche and Light Blue). However, it’s notable what can be criticised. From the name to the concept, they are beautiful; some report sweat trails, personally I haven’t found such a resemblance, but I understand where it comes from. The most denounceable thing is its performance: duration and trail are decidedly poor (perhaps moderate at most, and only on a very favoured day). Add to that the high price and the difficulty in locating it outside Europe. I don’t know if it has undergone reformulations; I don’t rule it out as the brand has gone through redesigns. The scent is irremediably beautiful, but I recommend testing it on skin before rushing to buy it.

A true citrus and green delight. I’ve been in love with this perfume from day one until today. It’s one of those where when you apply it, you immediately feel good, fresh and in a good mood. Decidedly for warm climates and for the day. On my skin it lasts about 7 hours, with limited projection in the first hour or so. The truth is, I don’t care if others perceive it or not; the enjoyment is mine.

What I am most passionate about in Ninfeo Mio is its pristine beauty. It has always been there, slightly overlooked by Goutal, but after trying Fico di Amalfi by AP, I fell in love with Ninfeo. Both feature fig notes, yet Ninfeo is more continental Mediterranean, far from the coast, as if situated in magnificent ruins. It is a fig with citrus sparkles that provide an initial and mid-stage ease, but it clings more to the skin, as if the leaves are overheated yet still glistening with morning dew, a divine nectar. The resins and woods give it body, fixative power, and a woody calyx that is more austere and indigenous. It is a wonderful perfume, anchored in dreams of forests and ethereal citrus that make you fly. It creates atmospheres and fantasies, with that intimate relationship under the fig that makes it magical. The fig leaves elevate this whole experience in a unique way.

Ninfeo Mio is one of the most wonderful fragrances I have had the pleasure of trying. It borders on excellence in everything that can be attributed to a perfume. It would be unfair to analyse it solely with typical benchmarks such as top notes, dry-down, or performance, because the work of Annick Goutal goes far beyond that. It transports you to the Garden of Eden. Hanging from its trees are enormous, juicy lemons with a fresh aroma that welcomes you. Then appears the absolute protagonist: the fig. On one hand, the scent of its leaf, fresh and green yet velvety; on the other, the scent of its fleshy fruit, sweet, delicate, creamy, with reminiscences of coconut. All of this is caressed by a fine mist that magnifies the described aroma, impregnates the woods, and wets the earth that gives life to the whole. All notes are perceived clearly with a staggering realism. It develops in a constant but subtle manner, without abrupt turns. You can apply it in the morning, still smell it in the afternoon, and feel its memory into the night. Ninfeo Mio is a fragrance that will accompany me for the rest of my existence. A perfume without edges, totally unisex and suitable for any age. Evocative as few, enchanting as none. Note: 10/10.

I hadn’t smelled it in six years and, with spring coming, it was on my mind. I searched on trusted websites fearing it had been reformulated; I found a rectangular bottle and thought yes, but I needed to test it. I asked in the forum today and the great Azurita (I trust her nose blindly) confirmed that only the packaging changed. I went to perfumerías Julia in Barcelona on a fresh summer day at 25°C and sprayed two sprays on my forearm. Opening: all the classic lemon, those market ones that perfume the house when you cut them. Heart: not a minute before the fig enters and in 7 minutes it dominates everything. It smells like the tree: climbing at seven, scraping knees with bark, touching velvet leaves with hairs that rise to the bitter palate, pulling a green fruit and feeling almond milky and creamy like a coconut shake. It reminds me of my childhood climbing my grandfather’s fig trees before the fruits ripened; the memories are so vivid I got emotional. Apart from being a bit cheesy, it opens so realistically citrusy that it’s astringent, then the fig remains, green and elegant, with a low but persistent trail. I notice the galbanum more in the first hours of the heart: bitter, lemony, sweet, green and sweet. That known sweetness mixes with another unknown (I suppose mastic) and there the sweet fig accompanies you for hours. I would never say it’s citrusy, it’s aromatic green. It’s 1 am, after 7 hours, the heart phase continues: I lie down with the fig and don’t notice wood.

Writing a review without sounding sentimental is impossible: sublimity, ecstasy, dreams, comfort, elegance, serenity, memories, light. A quality lemon, noisy and fresh, that opens this marvel grandiosely and soon moves to the plane of the fig leaf. The more it evolves, the more I like it: it has dimension, a creamy and resinous touch. I feel it fresh and high-quality at the same time, with a comfortable warmth. I am at a loss describing it because it is grandiose and there are no words. Annick Goutal had a purpose: to enclose memories in scents… and what a good job she did. 10/10 and, for a citrus, it lasts MUCH with a moderate trail. A 10.

Haha, I add another clink clink cash, drakecito, from my side. I was looking for something to complement Un Jardin en Mediterranee (ideal for afternoons) and the one from the Nil (vibrant, almost a morning Bloody Mary). Ninfeo Mio is delicious, fresh, a tender caress… an opening that makes you shake your head and brush aside those leaves wrapping you, so that minutes later you delve into that garden and are covered in fig leaf, so soft, almost creamy (the cream of that leaf nerve), nothing delicate. A scandal, in short. Thanks drakecito for your review, greetings.

Perhaps I didn’t express myself well, but when I said it could be replicated with cheap chemicals, I meant that, for me, it lacks that touch of distinction and elegance found in other fragrances. Unlike scents such as Santal 33 from Le Labo or Eternity Aqua, which do convey something ‘refined’ and special, Ninfeo Mio sounds like a supermarket cologne, akin to Adidas or Playboy. It’s not that it’s bad; it just doesn’t leave a mark. On another note, let’s talk about the legendary longevity of Guerlain’s Vetiver. I had a bottle from 2002 that lasted around 12 hours, which is beastly. If 9 hours is the record, 12 hours is forever, hehe, I exaggerated a bit but it is notable. Now, that vintage bottle I have, bought recently, has been reformulated and lasts only 2 or 3 hours, just like the new rectangular one. If your ‘vintage’ is from 3 or 4 years ago, it’s probably also reformulated, and that’s the key to its poor longevity. By the way, I bought it as a gift but kept it because the recipient said it smelled more masculine than feminine. She was right; it leans towards the masculine side without losing its unisex appeal. I’ll put it up for sale on eBay.

Undoubtedly, it is a citrus herbal perfume, more so than an aromatic woody one. From the start, I perceived the fig leaf smell very strongly, accompanied by citrus, without noticing the woody base notes mentioned. It was very linear during the 9 hours it lasted on me. The first 6 hours I noticed it clearly with moderate sillage, the fig leaf always standing out. The following 3 hours it dropped to skin-level scent but without losing that main note. Sincerely, I expected more class and distinction. I’m not saying it’s bad, as its ingredients feel of good quality, very natural, almost organic as @cnidaria said, but it is precisely that which makes it rustic and lacking in elegance. It’s like a diamond: the hardest material, but that hardness grants it fragility. I’m not saying natural fragrances are rustic, but this translates into fig leaves and citrus, nothing more. Although I’m not a chemist or a perfumer, it gives me the impression that it could be easily replicated with cheap chemicals. I remember a fig tree in my grandparents’ courtyard that smelled exactly the same; that’s why it doesn’t evoke great landscapes, but rather that tree from which I cut many fruits. I had 9 hours of longevity and moderate sillage, ideal for intermediate ages and climates. I tested it at 40°C and perhaps it works better in cooler weather.

Just a small comment on my friend @Cnidaria’s review. The matter of creaminess, I think that comes from the fig, but the fruit, not the leaf. The leaf is very green and can produce that sensation of prickliness or roughness. It’s a very organic smell that, as it dries, becomes sweeter, but it never turns into a sweet fragrance; it’s very far from gourmand. I have never noticed that point they talk about regarding sweat or cat urine. Perhaps it’s the myrtle, I don’t know. That sweat smell usually occurs when notes like caraway and cardamom are overused, which is noticeable if you overapply Declaration by Cartier. Greetings.

Ninfeo Mio receives many positive reviews about how it makes them feel or the landscapes they imagine, an evocative fragrance. It didn’t happen to me. I liked it quite a bit, but it has a detail that doesn’t convince me. It starts very citrusy and realistic, a burst of lemon and leaves, something bitter. It smells very organic, like crushing a lemon leaf in your hands. I love the opening. As it settles, it feels spicier, bitter and a bit sweet. My only memory with the fig leaf is that when I was little I bit one and it stung my tongue terribly; that’s why I relate the smell to something spicy, although I have read it gives creaminess, I don’t notice it here. I smell something mentholated and fresh. Yes, it smells sweeter with time, but being used to gourmands, I would never say it smells like a little dessert. It is a natural sweetness, no added sugar, the same as flowers and fruits. Now, before the base, something strange happens to me: a characteristic and not very pleasant aroma. On f.com they read it reminds of sweat, others of cat urine and I think that’s the last thing I smell. It is an acidic combination that smells like that, similar to very intense blackcurrants or cassis. I suppose it’s a matter of pH and with Ninfeo Mio I didn’t get lucky; personally it doesn’t bother me much, but one person did notice it to me haha. On my skin this phase lasts longer than the others, but after a while it dissipates a bit and leaves a very pleasant woody citrus scent, besides the leaf smell is always present and that I like.