Animale Animale by Animale

I was surprised to realise it doesn’t contain incense, which was the most noticeable aspect on my skin. It reminds me of the smell of craft fairs in Chile; it’s rich, but quite dense.

I owned this many years ago, when I was around 20. Now I recall its scent and it seems rather mature for my age back then. I bought the purple-capped version just because the green one was so popular with the girls in the office and I wanted to stand out from them.

It’s a delight from the 90s that smells like a floral relic from days gone by; it has that little note that makes it vintage, perhaps the freesia. Certainly, it’s very strong and lasts for ages on the skin—the scent lingers. It’s floral and even more floral, with small echoes of Perry Ellis’s 360. Although it doesn’t contain honey, on my skin it smells of honey and flowers, so sweet and rich in my pH. I like it quite a bit and I’m thinking of buying more bottles.

I bought it blindly, but for me it’s too gothic. The typical 90s scent.

To be honest, I absolutely loved the scent, but it gave me a headache. It’s incredible that it’s still on the market.

I liked it on blotting paper and bought it without testing it on my skin, as the perfumery I visited was a distributor with good prices but no testers and no option to spray it on the skin. A terrible mistake!!! When I got home, happy with my purchase, I sat down calmly to try it. I opened the bottle, sprayed my wrist, and… Roarrrrrrrrr, Grrrrrrr, the beast roars!!! Truly, this fragrance lives up to its name on me: it smells animalistic, yet caged or dead, ha ha. The Fragrantica description lists only simple or harmless ingredients such as freesia, peach, lemon, oakmoss, and bergamot, but I am almost certain its fixative contains some kind of pheromone or animal extract that magnifies impressively on my skin, becoming almost feline, like foul, intolerable sweat. I had never before felt the need to rush to the bathroom to wash and scrub my wrist obsessively with soap to make the smell disappear, which I failed to do; the unpleasant aroma persisted until the next day, with only a timid hint of freesia and peach barely perceptible amidst the stench. This situation left me very sad, and I didn’t know what to do with the full bottle, as it was unthinkable to try it again. Fortunately, at work, I was chatting about perfumes with a female colleague and friend who absolutely adores it! I couldn’t believe what I heard, so I quickly organised a ‘perfume tasting’ today with her and other colleagues, and I confirmed that on her, the scent was neither strong nor unpleasant as it was on me. Finally, I gifted her the perfume. I am glad to have found it a new home where it will be appreciated and used as it should be, and we had a wonderful time at the perfume party, where we could marvel at the wonders of human skin and the complex interaction between fragrances and it. I hope I’ve infected my friend a little with my passion for them, and I wish it multiplies.

A very typical 90s fragrance… intense, fruity-floral with a powerful trail, yet still ‘fresh’ in a way. It smells like a freshly bathed woman with honey soap, then peach cream, hair smelling of floral shampoo and conditioner. It dominates the sweetness of freesia with peach (for moments it smells of honey, but not cloying), combined with oakmoss. You barely feel a touch of lime in the opening. Considering it smells good, its tenacity and a trail that won’t leave anyone indifferent; it’s a good option for lovers of these characteristics. I think it would suit cold weather well, to add a bit of warmth… like dew after a bath, especially around the head; without over-spraying, I think it would be comforting.