Eau de Rochas by Rochas

Eau de Rochas is another great fragrance that, sadly reformulated, lost much of its original splendour. Still, ‘those who have, have’, and although the first version is missed, this fragrance still retains part of its charm, though I repeat, it’s not comparable to the one before. Now it’s just an ‘acceptable’ and easy fragrance for spring and summer, plus it’s relatively affordable (no wonder… it was more expensive before, I imagine because it was better). What a pity! But, unfortunately, Eau de Rochas isn’t the only one: almost all perfumes from the big houses have been reformulated. What are the reasons? I’ve read several: cost-cutting, scarcity of plant or flower harvests, increased allergies to ingredients, and adaptation to the tastes of the countries that consume the most (it seems China, the UAE, and Brazil, in that order, are the big consumers, and brands adapt especially to their best clients). In short…

Yes, but I disagree. Today I tested it again, in a slightly older version, a bottle from 10 or 12 years ago, and I can understand that by today’s standards it might seem unisex, and still, there will be people who find it leaning towards masculine, but for me it isn’t; I feel it is feminine and I like that about it. It is a fresh, delicate, and elegant fragrance that has become somewhat discreet today. Perhaps it is one of the best combinations of coriander, moss, flowers, and vetiver, in a feminine version, that I’ve felt, and that which thirty or forty years ago must have been spectacular in quality and projection. It’s neither invasive nor hysterical, but I suspect it was once extremely sensual with that semi-aldehydic touch that sets it apart from the chocolatey, sweet, candies, fruits, and sugary bits that are so popular today. Dilapidated as it is, it remains a coquettish and youthful fragrance, optimistic without falling into the childish, and versatile, depending on the user’s attitude. The longevity and projection are a bit just but not bad. It is a fragrance I like very much and I appreciate that it remains on sale.

A timeless aromatic citrus classic that never goes out of style. Absolutely unisex and currently very affordable, although it doesn’t last as long as it did in the 90s. I consider it an essential for summer, even if its vintage scent might not appeal to everyone today.

This was my mother’s signature fragrance for many years. Every time I smell it, I am immediately reminded of my childhood and maternal hugs. To me, this scent remains 100% her. You might wonder why she no longer wears it? Well, the reformulations it has undergone over the years have practically ruined it. Although the scent is fairly similar to the original, the longevity and sillage are much weaker. There must have been a drop in quality, as it used to be a very expensive fragrance years ago, whereas today it could be considered affordable compared to the global rise in designer perfume prices. My mother asked us not to gift it to her anymore because she can’t smell it the same way as she used to. She would previously apply it to her skin, clothes, and accessories, leaving everything smelling of it for days, soaking her wardrobe. Now, she says that after two or three hours, she can’t detect anything at all, not even when sprayed on her clothes. It breaks my heart because, although I have no intention of wearing it myself, I know I won’t be able to smell it when she is around, and the poor performance has taken away her desire to use it more. A good alternative that is even more economical and has a similar style is the fragrance Zinnia; I don’t consider it a clone, but its style is very similar.

Spicy citrus freshness. This cologne is a ‘timeless classic’, and although I have an affection for it, it has never truly taken hold with me. In fact, the scent of the moisturiser I appreciate on other people’s skin seems much richer and more suggestive than the perfume itself. It is fresh, but a freshness that gradually fades to let the moss emerge. As if the window that had been wide open suddenly closed, stopping the light from entering. I imagine it boils down to the fact that the combination of such citrus with moss just doesn’t work for my nose, as I experience the same thing with Lancôme’s Oh!, which is designed with similar schemes. Neither will it help that the person I know who wore this fragrance smoked heavily, as the smell of their perfume mixed with tobacco. I appreciate it on other people’s skin, especially the scent of the moisturiser.

Eau de Rochas conveys the transparency of water: a perfect balance between citrus and very luminous musky-amber notes. Nothing pretentious and super versatile. When I was new to perfumes, it reminded me of a lemon drop; later I understood its depth and performance.

It’s been my mother’s perfume since before I was born. To me, it smells fresh, light and youthful, yet mature at the same time.

Reformulated again… heartless, what have they done to it? None of the sea, salt, rugged rock or Mediterranean summer scent. Does it smell bad? No. But they took its soul, the essence that made it long-lasting and recognisable. Now it’s just another generic citruchuli, a watery, generic lemon.

It never really appealed to me, but when making homemade perfumes with essential oils, a blend I created smells just like this classic. My formula is dominated by jasmine, bergamot, magnolia, mint, patchouli, rose and orange blossom; the result is almost identical, though less acidic at first, perhaps because I used only bergamot. If you’re addicted to this perfume, this formula achieves almost the same thing. Meanwhile, I hope to find the original formula or something that reminds me of what my mother used: Apple Blossom by Helena Rubinstein. Creating this formula immersed me in the magical world of essential oils and artisanal perfumery.

This scent is the smell of my childhood. My mother, father and sister wore it, and my sister still uses it in her youth. It’s one of the few fresh fragrances that lasts long enough to be a light perfume, reaching up to half a day. On me, it smells like basil with lemon and oak moss; the citrus doesn’t stand out excessively but maintains the freshness. I find Rochas Fraiche more citrusy. It’s completely unisex, looks great on men and women, without age or gender boundaries, with a certain air of maturity. Wonderful in spring, summer and autumn for daytime use, although I can’t think of a situation where it wouldn’t work.

A spot-on unisex fragrance. Citrus base with a wet wood dry-down, intense and surprisingly long-lasting for an eau.

My mother’s scent, bottled in that jar that looks like a broken block of ice. Her signature perfume since I can remember: Rochas is her, full stop. Imitated but unsurpassed; a sharp, fine, sandy lemon that awakens and comforts. No pepper, but with the strength of her armour, sparkling and brilliant. Smells like pure winter sun and drunken astringency. Works brilliantly all year: pure light in the cold and a cooling drop in summer. Hard to fail, ideal for women over 35. Long-lasting without being invasive, kind and precise. A ten.

Eau de Rochas is a classic with a citrus air and Mediterranean nuances. In my country it still sells hugely decades after its launch. Why? Because it’s honest: it delivers what it promises, a fresh trail of aromatic citrus with a damp, spicy sea breeze thanks to the coriander, effervescence of mentholated lemon and spice. Many say it’s unisex, and I agree; it’s versatile and for daytime. Distinguished citrus, well-balanced, with green and natural touches like a summer breeze. Ideal for those seeking dynamism and energy. Despite the reformulation, it keeps its charisma, smells the same, and has a great price. Honest and fresh.

I like it, though I let it gather dust over the years. In the nineties it was elegant and very different from other perfumes; many friends bought Zinnia, which was cheaper and similar. What I truly love is the body cream: it leaves the skin soft and the scent lasts longer than the perfume itself. Now I’d like to buy it again, but I don’t trust it. Is it just me, or does it happen to others? When I buy old perfumes, I notice they don’t last as much and seem to smell different.

By far my favourite; it beats all the others I know by a mile. It was my first perfume at 16: like a fresh cascade where the droplets sparkle in the sun forming a rainbow. Brilliant but not brash, because the citrus softens the moss. I sense it as different from everything else. It was discontinued in Brazil a long time ago; I didn’t have it for years until I bought it online from a shop in Portugal, very expensive. My disappointment: this one I just bought doesn’t have the longevity of before; it lasts nothing on my skin.