Men
Carmen
Acordes principales
Descripción
Carmen by Victorio & Lucchino is a floral fragrance for women. Launched in 1992, this composition was created by perfumer Rosendo Mateu.
Resumen rápido
Cuándo llevarla (votos)
Notas clave
Comunidad
111 votos
- Positivo 67%
- Negativo 32%
- Neutral 0.9%
Comunidad
Qué dicen los usuarios sobre propiedad, preferencia y mejor momento de uso.
Propiedad
¿La tienen, la tuvieron o la quieren?
Preferencia
Cómo valora la comunidad esta fragancia.
Uso recomendado
Estación y momento del día con más votos.
Dónde comprar
Compara tiendas verificadas para Carmen y elige según envío, precio o disponibilidad.
Amazon
Envío rápidoEntrega rápida y política de devoluciones conocida.
Ideal si priorizas velocidad y disponibilidad.
Ver en Amazon
eBay
Más opcionesMás opciones de precio, formatos y vendedores.
Útil para comparar alternativas antes de decidir.
Ver en eBay
Características
Resumen de votos sobre longevidad, estela, género y percepción de precio.
Longevidad
Escasa
Débil
Moderada
Duradera
Muy duradera
Estela
Suave
Moderada
Pesada
Enorme
Género
Femenino
Unisex femenino
Unisex
Unisex masculino
Masculino
Precio
Extremadamente costoso
Ligeramente costoso
Precio moderado
Buen precio
Excelente precio
Reseñas
Experiencias reales de la comunidad sobre uso diario, rendimiento y estela.
Para dejar una reseña necesitas iniciar sesión.
21 reseñas
Mostrando las más recientes primero.
Category:
Terrible, very strong. Not for me.
Absolutely horrible, in the most extreme sense of the word.
Horrible, the greatest expression of the word.
Terrible; the only nice thing about it was the cap.
Carmen: the most artificial white floral I have ever heard. Notes of radioactive magnolia and citrus jasmine that made me dizzy. The finish had a very annoying creamy lacquer touch. I loved it; in the 90s it was the most gifted feminine cologne in Spain. Three years ago I found a bottle at Mercadona, now discontinued. I opened it, its floral artificiality poisoned me, and I gave it to my grandmother, who was happier than a lark. I am furious that Carmen no longer exists. It wasn’t as bad as they paint it. It was a cheerful, youthful, and very feminine perfume, just like those years could produce, when Spain believed itself to be the queen of mambo after the Expo and the Olympics. This perfume represented that, an idealisation of the Spanish woman of the 90s, pretty but natural, feminine but hardworking, and above all cheerful. In Carmen there was nothing sinister, it was all light. Perhaps such intense florals are not popular today; we prefer perfumes with more nuances, but when it came out, any woman wore it delightedly as if it were a treasure. Over the years and with the situation of the couture house, Victorio & Lucchino perfumes became irrelevant, although they had their legion of followers and knew how to capture their time. This Carmen Passionate (the bottle still seems precious to me, with that play of colours and Byzantine shapes), Abril, which was a more natural and intellectual musky floral, or even Sur, which passed without glory and was an ode to the most cloying fig tree and unisex scent that I miss today. If you see a Carmen bottle at a good price, do not hesitate to buy it; it is a bottled piece of the era.
It strikes me as curious that despite being one of the best sellers of its time, there are not more comments. In the English version there are, many gifts or holiday memories, and good opinions. I think it is an extreme perfume; you either loved it or hated it, it did not leave anyone indifferent, and of course it was nothing for ‘bathing’ in, as its trail and longevity were enormous and you could suffocate anyone who passed by. Despite its name, the scent, at least to me, evoked everything opposite: seriousness and ‘pure clean’. Nevertheless, being a teenager, I did not hesitate to grab my mother’s little bottle; I never heard anyone say how good it smelled (which did happen with her little sister Abril), but yes: ‘Have you put on perfume?’ followed by strange faces. Its aroma was between sweet and bitter, like oranges or jasmine tea when left to rest too long. A very dry, soapy aroma that reminded me of the green Heno de Pravia tablet, which for many will smell of clean grandma, yes, but I loved it.
It’s curious that being one of the best-sellers of its time, there aren’t more comments. On the English version, yes, many gifts or vacation memories from Spain. I think it’s an extreme perfume; you either loved it or hated it; it didn’t leave anyone indifferent. It wasn’t anything to ‘bathe’ in, as its trail and longevity were enormous, and you could kill someone passing by. Despite its name, the scent, at least to me, evoked seriousness and ‘pure clean’. Still, as a teenager, I didn’t hesitate to grab my mother’s small bottle; I never heard anyone say how good it smelled (which did happen with her little sister April), but rather: ‘Have you put on perfume?’ followed by strange faces. Its aroma was between sweet and bitter, like oranges or jasmine tea when left to steep longer. A very dry, soapy scent that reminded me of the green Heno de Pravia bar; for many, it smells like a clean grandmother, yes, but I loved it.
It was my mother’s favourite perfume until they stopped selling it, at least in Spain. The bottle was very pretty and the brand is good, but the perfume seems very sweet to me. I would not wear it myself, but it reminds me of my mother and brings back good memories.
It was my mother’s favourite perfume until they stopped selling it, at least in Spain. The bottle was pretty and the brand good, but the perfume feels very sweet to me. I wouldn’t wear it myself, but it reminds me of my mother and brings back good memories.
Ambrosiac sensual elixir with powdery notes, very similar to Yves Rocher’s singer scent. A cousin wore it for years and it smelled divinely exquisite on her. I wish I could get a bottle as I love it.
When I opened the door to the vintage universe to peek at some of its jewels, I felt inspired to rescue a set of Carmen by Victorio & Lucchino from my box, which was timely as it was Carmen Day. When I looked at the data, I realised it has rained a lot since 1995. I remembered the times I gave this fragrance to my sister and mother, the ‘Carmens’ of the family. I could never forget the shop assistants packing like mad with Christmas boxes and baskets where a sample of Carmen was never missing. It was the most used fragrance among Spanish women of the millennial generation, very affordable economically, but times of glory were in the sector, working overtime to meet demand. Beyond the nostalgic accent, Carmen filled a relevant space in the history of Spanish perfumery thanks to a colossal sales success. It was a ‘designer’ perfume wrapped in the imagery of the Victorio & Lucchino brothers and produced in Puig’s factories in Barcelona. Rosendo Mateu, the master who grew up under Puig’s shadow, was its creator. His olfactory idea hovers over three notes: Magnolia, orange blossom, and jasmine. But not a conventional or natural jasmine, rather an artificial and allegorical approach. A nearly mythical fantasy of floral chords that in inexperienced hands would have been a disaster. As a base, the commercial machinery designed a bottle inspired by the treasures of Tartessos in Andalusia. Today a Carmen bottle could figure alongside those treasures: solid, cyclopean, incorruptible, and with such potent performances that they would leave any Tom Ford in their underwear in the full sun. However, for a fraction of its price, you could brighten someone’s life with this Spanish Carmen, and not the one by Mérimée.
Opening the window to vintage to admire its jewels, I decided to rescue a set of Carmen by Victorio & Lucchino for Mother’s Day. It has rained heavily since 1995. I remember giving it to my sister and mother, the family ‘Carmens’. I also recall the perfumeries packing crazy boxes and Christmas baskets full of Carmen and minis. It was the most sought-after fragrance among Spanish millennials, very affordable and with glorious times in the sector. Beyond nostalgia, Carmen filled a gap in Spanish perfumery with colossal success. It was a ‘designer’ perfume with the image of the fashion house of the Victorio & Lucchino brothers, made in Puig’s factories in Barcelona. Rosendo Mateu, a master at Puig, created it with three notes: magnolia, orange blossom, and jasmine. But not a conventional jasmine, rather an artificial and allegorical approach, a mythological fantasy of floral chords that in inexperienced hands would have been a disaster. Based on that, the commercial machinery designed a bottle inspired by the treasures of Tartessos in Andalusia. Today, a bottle of Carmen could stand alongside those treasures, as a bygone jewel: solid, cyclopean, incorruptible, and with powerful performance that would leave any Tom Ford in his underwear in the full sun. However, for a fraction of its price, you could brighten someone’s life with this Spanish Carmen, not the one by Mérimée.
This fragrance is one of the perfumery mistakes of my life. I bought it looking for something long-lasting and didn’t do the rigorous test of leaving it on my skin; I just sniffed it. Poorly made. The bottle was attractive, but the moment I opened it, I knew we weren’t going far. It felt vulgar, unbalanced, domineering, and overly vehement. A ‘shouty’ perfume; I’d even say it had unpleasant undertones. Suffocating and toxic. I gave it many chances, but it ended up as a bathroom air freshener… and I threw it away before finishing because I didn’t even like it for that. For me, it’s retro. Obviously, this is my opinion; others will love it.
Carmen is a bomb of projection, a lady perfume with an S, my mother used it, I did not think it was bad at all, very intense though.
Carmen is a projection bomb, a ‘ladies’ perfume with an S. My mother wore it; I didn’t think it was bad at all, though it was very intense.
What a shame they discontinued it; my mother used to wear it and I always asked for it. In the end, she gave it to me, and she switched to April. It was my first perfume, and because of it, I love intense scents. I’m still on the hunt for something similar. 🙁
What a pity it was discontinued; my mother used it and I always asked for it, eventually she gave it to me and she moved on to Abril; it was my first perfume and because of it I like intense perfumes. I am dying to find something similar.
I never had, nor wanted, this perfume… I only remember testing it at El Corte Inglés years ago and it smelled awful. I told myself I’d never buy it. The same happened with April; both by Victorio & Lucchino. It wasn’t a coincidence; it was always like this with these two. I always think that perfumes more or less smell okay, you might like them more or less, but with these two, I simply couldn’t.
I’ve never bought this perfume nor did I want to; I only recall testing it at El Corte Inglés years ago and it smelled dreadful. I told myself I would never purchase it. The same thing happened with Abril, both by Victorio & Lucchino, so it wasn’t a coincidence—it’s just these two I’ve had trouble with. I always think perfumes smell more or less good and you may like them more or less, but with these two, I simply couldn’t stand them.
It was the first real perfume my father ever gave me: a fresh, floral scent to inspire you all day long. What a pity I can’t buy it from Chile… if I could, I’d order it right now. Fantastic perfume, a blue bottle like the Mediterranean sea and an orange box with gold trim; it looks like a gift for a queen.
Reminds me of a very happy time in my life.