Men
Fidji Eau de Toilette
Acordes principales
Descripción
Guy Laroche Fidji Eau de Toilette is a floral fragrance for women. Launched in 1966, the nose behind this composition is Josephine Catapano. The top notes include hyacinth, galbanum, iris, bergamot, nardos and lemon; the heart unfolds aldehydes, jasmine, ylang-ylang, cloves, lily root, violet, spicy notes and rose; while the base notes reveal oakmoss, vetiver, sandalwood, musk, resins, amber and patchouli.
Resumen rápido
Pirámide olfativa
Estructura completa de la fragancia: de la salida al fondo.
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 Fidji Eau de Toilette 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.
33 reseñas
Mostrando las más recientes primero.
Category:
It reminds me of Nina Ricci L’Air du Temps. When I lived in London, my hostess used this perfume and RiveGauche; in the mornings the whole house smelled of Fidji and it suited her personality. She was one of the happiest and kindest people I have known, she loved making others happy. The place was always full of friends and children, it felt like long holidays. I was 20 then and Fidji always reminds me of those wonderful years, which is why it is one of my favourite perfumes.
I love it, it comes in Eau de Toilette and Eau de Parfum, but I stick with the first one because it is less concentrated. It is a delicious, exquisite, romantic and feminine floral; for me it evokes tenderness more than sensuality, although the advertising suggests the opposite, it can be a mix of both. With this perfume I entered the world of fine French perfumes as a teenager, more than 25 years ago.
I wore it on the day I got married; now I use it on summer evenings. I really like it—it’s very feminine and elegant, reminding me of my mother’s garden as well as party nights.
I wore it at my wedding and now I reserve it for summer nights; it is super feminine and elegant, it brings me memories of my mother’s garden and also of those night parties.
I used to wear it at 15 and I loved it: strong, it denoted joy, with exotic and lush flowers, like a paradise, and a spicy note that made the flowers feel tropical. I saw it in a shop a few months ago and ran to buy it, but oh, disappointment: it smelled different, like a funeral, like old perfume. I don’t know if it was spoiled or if they re-edited it????
This perfume reminds me of beautiful passages in my life. My high school teacher, an elegant woman with a unique presence, used this wonderful scent. I still remember that sophisticated floral aroma filling the room. For me, it is one of my favourites, a moment of magic immortalised by Guy Laroche that exalts femininity, without being loud and timeless.
I absolutely adore florals. I used it several years ago and I want to get it back. Perhaps it’s curiosity to see if, in this different stage of my life, it conveys the same feeling as it did then.
It opens spicy; it’s a deep floral that softens with wear until it feels like talc. Definitely a daytime scent. I agree with those who said it’s similar to L’Air du Temps, yes, it follows that line I call powdery floral.
Fidji is quite another world compared to L’Air du Temps, please. The Ricci Girl version gets me all worked up, whereas Fidji makes me feel happy. One smells like a funeral and the other like an adventure and exoticism in beautiful places.
Fidji in its original formula is a floral in the style of Nina Ricci’s (Capricci, Farouche, L’air du temps). What does this mean? That we are going to find a soft fragrance, which is not extravagant or dramatic, and which invites us to something more personal and intimate. Fidji is calm, serene, soft but with a complex composition. It has many things in common with L’air du temps, but also has its differences. In the Nina Ricci fragrance spices and cloves have a bit more participation than the florals, and with Fidji it’s the opposite: Hyacinth, galbanum and iris stand out against a sandalwood and moss that accompany them as support. Fidji is hyacinth and L’air du temps is carnation. But in terms of fixation and projection they take the same direction. As they are two so well-made fragrances, being soft florals doesn’t mean they evaporate in four hours; their middle and base notes last a very long time on the skin. This is regarding the vintages, because the new formulas of both last less, especially Fidji’s which loses not only fixation but also beauty. I recommend the vintage for all romantics.
Although you may not believe it, this perfume was one of Oscar Natalio “Ringo” Bonavena’s favourites. The great heavyweight boxer from Argentina.
Fidji is a scent that constantly smelled in my house back in the eighties, by my sister. Currently, the retouched version I own offers that old scent but doesn’t have the same longevity and intensity. It’s a vintage that, having been softened, still offers me that past which is now so hard to find. If you like narcissus, try it; if you like flowers, try it; if you like perfumery of the past, get it. Its citrus opening is somewhat tempered by a delicate iris that gives it body, while the aldehydes act. Minutes later we notice the whole set making itself felt: a moss that darkens the whole perfume in a classic way, giving it an elegant touch like few others. I love putting it on from time to time and opt for putting it in a handkerchief so it lasts a bit longer. It’s one of the few vintages still in circulation and easy to find, yes, but not to try in perfumeries. If you like Anais, this is the older sister, a bit more serious, but no less friendly and fun, who has chosen to become independent and claim her own identity within the world of floral fragrances. For today it’s a lovely option that sets you apart from the florals of this time and evokes a floral not old, but determined to continue in the seventies. On the skin longevity is little and the trail too compared to years ago, but it’s a gem that has its showcase.
A wonderful fragrance that evokes in me the image of a paradisiacal island bathed in the sun. For me it’s sublime and unique.
A good fragrance to wear mainly during the hottest months, both day and night. Very feminine, not devoid of elegance, but relaxed and easy to wear. It also reminds me of L’Air du Temps in its initial opening, but the evolution is different. Fidji is more luminous, has a fresher touch. I prefer the eau de toilette to the parfum. It’s versatile: it can be worn both for going to the office and for leisure situations, provided they are not too dynamic, because it remains a floral, and in summer it makes itself felt. For being dressed up it’s also perfect: its elegant and feminine touch will make you stand tall. Another thing I like about Fidji is that it’s not very common, at least nowadays: it’s not easy to cross paths with someone wearing it too.
Fidji has me rolling in laughter. It feels like the most cheerful, youthful take on those earlier mossy and galbanum compositions, which were so dark and gloomy. Fidji retains that woodland air but is far more approachable. What I love about it is how it sits halfway between those dark formulas and the greasy, raw florals of the seventies; it’s neither one nor the other, but on my nose, it has fragments of both families. While I’m fascinated by the first and find the last rather unappealing, this lovely creation by Josephine Catapano feels different from many of its contemporaries. It’s luminous, friendly, and smells of formality, yet it’s not even remotely as maternal or prim as its peers. Nor does it seem as common or dull as so many others laden with aldehydes; Fidji has a certain ‘mystery’ thanks to notes like moss and galbanum. Even with hyacinth, which can be a bit of a thief in any perfume, I find it ambiguous and much more in tune with my tastes than similar scents from that era. It’s certainly not my favourite by any stretch, but I’m constantly amused by its versatility. It’s one of those perfumes you never think about, yet when you try it again, you’re left thinking, ‘hey, this is quite something.’ Fidji, which seems like a good little girl on the surface, is actually a mossy, woody chypre with exquisite manners. Galbanum, moss, initial aldehydes that fade quickly along with the hyacinth, and a woody-green finish where a characteristic spicy, peppery note really stands out. Simply wonderful. PS: It doesn’t remind me of L’Air du Temps to me, which, by the way, is a perfume I simply can’t stand. The bottle is a real gem; I’d love to own a decant of the Parfum edition.
Fidji amuses me greatly. It’s as if it were a happier, younger flanker of the mossy and galbanum compositions that preceded it, where the others were dark and gloomy. Fidji, without losing that forest tone, is much kinder. For me, the charm of Fidji is being halfway between the gloomy previous formulas and the greasy, raw florals of the seventies; Fidji is neither one nor the other, on my nose it has fragments of both families. Considering that the first fascinates me and the last doesn’t appeal to me much, I find in this beautiful creation by Josephine Catapano a perfume different from many others born in its time. It’s luminous, it’s kind and smells of formality. But for heaven’s sake, it’s not as maternal or matronly as its contemporaries. Nor does it seem as common or boring as so many other perfumes with a strong aldehyde load. Fidji has “mystery” when faced with burrow notes such as moss and galbanum. Even carrying hyacinth, which is a scent-stealer in any perfume, I feel it ambiguous and much more in tune with my tastes than similar perfumes of its time. It doesn’t reach being my favourite perfume by any means, but I find its versatility amusing. Besides, it’s one of those you never think about, but when you try it again you think “hey, this is cool”. Fidji, which seems like a good girl, is at bottom a mossy, woody chypre, but with exquisite manners. Galbanum, moss, initial aldehydes that die quickly just like the hyacinth, and a woody green finish where a characteristic spicy, peppery tone stands out. Wonderful. PS. It doesn’t remind me of L’air du Temps to me, which by the way is a perfume I can’t stand. The bottle is a gem; I would love to have a small bottle of the parfum edition.
THE MOST BEAUTIFUL GREEN FLORAL IN HISTORY! Whoever tries it inevitably falls under its charm. It’s not that vintage perfume that stayed in time and smells old; IT’S A CLASSIC! A young woman or an older lady can wear it, day or night, in summer or winter. LAROCHE has created few perfumes, but both Fidji and DRAKKAR NOIR were and remain a success, totally usable for men and women today…… AND WITH SO LITTLE MARKETING!
The most beautiful green floral in history! Whoever tries it inevitably falls under its charm. It is not that vintage perfume that smells old, it is a classic! A young woman or an older lady can wear it, by day or night, in summer or winter. Laroche has created few perfumes but both Fidji and Drakkar Noir were and remain a success, totally wearable for men and women today… and with so little marketing!
“A woman is an island, Fidji is her perfume” (advertising slogan). A naked woman on an island, embracing the bottle, washed up by the waves (advertising image). LINDA EVANGELISTA, laughing and dressed, runs along the beach with the Fidji bottle in her hands in a video more sugary than the first image. Confronting this generous example of VINTAGE, offered by my friend REBECAVPF, is confronting History. Fidji was the first women’s perfume (1966) by GUY LAROCHE (1921-1989). Today its fragrances are in the hands of the L’Oreal Group, with everything that entails. Curiously, the brand has been sparing in creations, both masculine and feminine, and hasn’t succumbed to the flanker trend, although it’s also true that few people pay attention to it and L’Oreal doesn’t move a finger. Fidji was born with its heart set on CHANEL 19 and its mind on L’AIR DU TEMPS by NINA RICCI. Olfactive family? Floral? Spiced Floral? Green Floral? Green Chypre? All have been considered to define it. Which one would I choose? GREEN FLORAL CHYPRE. Yes, that’s the family which, in my opinion, defines it most. Its opening is bright, luminous, slightly aldehydic and solar. A set of flowers among which nard, hyacinth, jasmine and rose stand out, are dyed with a balsamic green, from galbanum and sparkling citrus notes of bergamot and lime. It’s a juicy scent that quenches thirst, like a refreshing tropical drink, but that awakens sensual desires arising from white and red flowers. The spicy touch of very soft and delicate cloves adds oriental warmth, reinforced by the subsequent appearance of a magnificent CARNATION (inexplicably not declared) and a white musk that highlights it. Fidji is irremediably modern. It’s modern without reservations. It’s modern without reference. It’s modern because it was born classic. And the classic will always be modern.
I wore it when I was twenty and adored it. The iris and moss are notes I will always repeat in my favourite perfumes. It’s easy to wear, though I can no longer quite evoke its scent.
My mother’s favourite, but unfortunately it’s no longer available in Argentina.
First time smelling it. It is quite green, earthy and mossy, reminding me of Anais Anais but the old formula. I like it, but I don’t think I could wear it these days.
It was my perfume back in the early 80s. A gift I received during my teenage years. I wore it constantly, and although I was very young, I felt connected to that enigmatic scent which somehow drew me closer to my dreams of travelling to those Pacific islands, to sands bathed in golden rays and turquoise waters. Its formula is passionate, rich, sumptuous, yet youthful. A modern, deconstructed fragrance for an era dominated by aldehydes and olfactory jewels. Many years later, when I flew over those islands, I was moved to remember my first imported perfume, that little 50ml bottle that accompanied me through so many happy moments. Fiji, a dream come true, timeless, always with me.
It was my perfume back in the early 80s. They gave it to me as a teenager and I always wore it; although I was very young, I felt identified with that enigmatic scent that brought me closer to my dreams of travelling to the Pacific islands, to those sands under rays of sun and turquoise. Its formula is passionate, rich, sumptuous and yet youthful. A modern and deconstructed fragrance for that era of aldehydes and olfactory jewels. When I flew over those islands many years later, I was moved remembering my first imported perfume, that little 50 ml bottle that accompanied me through so many happy moments. Fiji, like a dream come true, timeless, always with me.
The resemblance to L’Air du Temps is almost identical, whereas the Nina Ricci one is more solemn and ceremonial; Fidji is more sensual, a bit carnal and elegant. They share notes, but here the flowers stand out more, while in the other it is the spices such as clove that take centre stage. Fidji is a more rejuvenated version of the Nina Ricci; I don’t mean to say it’s old, but of a vintage exquisiteness, whereas the Guy Laroche is more youthful, bold and carefree. Fidji is an old-school jewel, an olfactory prodigy of ambrosial taste and very distinguished. Divine delight.
A beautiful fragrance as a whole. Fidji is soft and delicate, yet characterful. Very floral, with green and mossy touches and a powdery dry-down that gives it that clean, crisp finish of yesteryear. I find it very versatile and pleasant, very spring/summer. A timeless classic ❤️
I smell it and refuse it. No, it’s not for me. With that gorgeous name, one would expect a mysterious tropical jewel, perhaps an astringent grapefruit with a talcum base, a soapy passion fruit or a waxy ylang-ylang, but here is the devil of Paris by YSL, that note that hurts (again, the synthetic violet, getting on my nerves) and heralds a good headache. Fidji is too vintage, headstrong and stately, a L’Air du Temps resurrected. I don’t know where those magical impressions of paradises and lushness come from. To me, it smells like Mrs Havisham from Great Expectations, locked away at home with her wedding dress to debut.
I sniff it and shake my head. No, no. This isn’t for me. With such a lovely name, one might expect a mysterious little gem with tropical inspiration, perhaps an astringent, pithy grapefruit with a talc base, a soapy passionfruit, or a waxy ylang-ylang. But no, here resides the very demon that possesses Paris by YSL—that note that gives me a headache (once again, synthetic violet, on guard, annoying me) and a warning of a proper migraine. Fidji is far too vintage, stubborn and stately, a very much alive L’Air du Temps, with which it shares a slight resemblance at times. I promise you, I have no idea where those magical impressions come from that evoke paradises, gardens, freshness, and greenery. To me, it smells like Mrs Havisham from Great Expectations, locked away in her house with her wedding dress to be worn for the first time.
There are many adjectives for Fidji, but ‘boring’ isn’t one. I also see a resemblance to Nina Ricci’s L’Air du Temps, though they are neither identical nor substitutes. Everything about Fidji is subtle: it begins with a slightly non-talcous, floral iris where the citrus notes don’t stand out but rather push that sensation, moving through a complex development where the notes harmonise over an almost silent background. The result is elegant, luminous without being shrill, amiable, and with a quiet yet confident character. It’s not for going on a yacht in a bikini with a cocktail, but for a closer, calmer, more distinguished place, where the interesting thing isn’t the chic resort, but a solitary beach with few tourists and the sea as the only noise. A place to enjoy slowly and feel attractive.
I’ve just bought it after years of not using it. If it has that fresh, sensual, floral aroma I remember, it doesn’t last the same. In my case, it lasts no more than three hours on the skin and the trail is minimal. But well, it serves to remind me of my youthful days.
You have to make peace with vintage. It costs a bit, but in the end, you develop Stockholm syndrome. Fidji isn’t easy; it smells very oily. Combined with the heat of the clove, it initially gave me a lacerating sensation, like boiling oil. But as I get used to it, I start to smell beyond the aldehyde and enjoy the freshness of the moss.
It’s fresh, distant, and a little unusual; I’m not sure if it’s a ‘matter of taste’ (that label always gives me the creeps). To me, it sounds classic and acceptable. If I had to define it briefly, I’d say citrusy, talc-like, and green. I agree with many reviews: it has a very subtle, balanced clean touch. It arrived as a gift for my father, but he never touched it; he prefers Le Male or Loewe colognes. I found myself the usurping little fairy and set myself the task of finishing the bottle quickly. It became my treasure this summer when I spent a few days in an abandoned mill in the countryside, without light and overrun with bugs. I tried citronella, but it smells stronger than I can take, so I applied a medieval rule and layered it with Fidji to cover it up. Although only a little remains, I still use it to freshen sheets and pillows; when I spray it and close my eyes shaking the blankets, it seems I see ash trees and alders beyond the door, moving with the unhurried afternoon.
My mother loved it, and so did I, until she caught me stealing it because the scent lasted forever and I’d get caught. Now there’s just an empty bottle in the box, but the essence remains. I’ll buy this jewel one day ❤️