Infusion d’Amande by Prada

Definitely smells of iris, and I love that because I’ve been an iris fan lately. To me, it’s like compact almond powder, sort of like makeup. I wasn’t scared that it might be identical to Mandorlo di Sicilia; I adore that one, but I already own it and wouldn’t want two of the same. Luckily, this just smells of almond powder, nothing more. The trail is quite poor, but the longevity is decent, especially on clothes. The scent is lovely and linear: what you smell at the start is what you have all day. The anise makes it faintly reminiscent of Lolita Lempicka, like a distant cousin. I really enjoy it and it’s absolutely worth it. Plus, it’s a winner because I see it as an all-rounder, perfect for both cold and heat.

I was dying to try it and it was totally worth it. It’s one of the most ethereal, delicate and calming scents I’ve ever tested. I can imagine a nymph wearing it before going to sleep. It’s beautiful. It hurts that it’s so expensive for something so subtle, but I’ll end up owning it sooner or later.

Smells like soap, but not expensive soap, rather cheap soap. It’s not a scent I dislike, but I wouldn’t want to smell like this all day. It reminds me a lot of the foam soaps in shopping centres. I’ve never smelled bitter almond before; it’s an interesting aroma. It doesn’t smell bad, but it smells cheap.

On my skin, it smells only of musk. The almond scent lasts very briefly.

What an interesting perfume; its aroma evokes Christmas parties here in Spain. Whenever I’ve come across a Christmas perfume, it smells spiced, vanilla-like, and cinnamon-y, like allspice or gingerbread—that is, the American Christmas that has arrived with globalisation, the Starbucks kind, rather than the one our grandparents knew, two totally different cultures that are olfactorily the same. This perfume is exactly the opposite. I don’t think they intended to make a Christmas perfume, but the combination of almond, anise, and a very subtle underlying sweetness evokes the sweets eaten here during the festivities: polvorones, almond nougats from Agramunt, anise rings, and even carquinyolis if we forget their biscuit-like appearance. I think spring, leading into summer, is the worst time to try it, so it will have to wait until Halloween (or All Saints’ Day). If you’re from Spain and gourmands are your thing, you can find a very special perfume here, and if your name is Amanda, I needn’t say more. Best wishes.

I was afraid to buy it blind, being Infusion de Iris my signature perfume for years, due to the anise note. But it’s barely noticeable; it’s almond-like at first but dries down quickly, being an Infusion de Iris with a different twist thanks to the tonka and almond, yet so subtle that it’s worth buying if you want to replace the other just to avoid wearing the exact same one again.

Smelling it in October made me fall head over heels, even though its longevity is somewhat lacking. It brings back memories of Infusion d’Iris and it’s hard not to fall in love. On the skin it’s fleeting, but the opening is pure magic: that raw, creamy, comforting almond scent, half real and half invented, much like L’Occitane creams, with a tender solar touch. It’s held together by the familiar Prada infusion note, which fades quickly here to reveal that nostalgic, basic iris. It’s a lovely scent, full of an indeterminate longing.

I’m captivated by its presence, just like its siblings. The translucent bottle shimmers in dusty blue, reflecting Prada’s impeccable elegance, like crystal sculptures with ballerinas that diffract light. It smells like the 17th century: corsets, rocailles, and wigs, but also like a garden of frozen, magnificent fairies. It’s like crowns of marzipan and inert flowers sprinkled with iridescent dew. It brings me peace and I apply it to my skin to sleep after my skincare routine. I bought it for the love of almonds, but here there is no sweetness, only a bouquet of sunless almonds in a sprig of violets and anise. It’s a delicate score, ephemeral yet powerful, darker and denser than the Iris, without being cushioned by powdery flowers.

Smells like artificial almond food colouring for industrial cakes. Intense opening.

It’s a lovely, feminine, and relaxing perfume, though not striking. The opening smells like marzipan before settling into something musky, with almond in the background and heliotrope as the star. On my skin it lasted about six hours. It works in any weather, but I’d recommend it for autumn. Pleasant: 6/10, Interesting: 6/10, Versatile: 7/10, Original: 7/10.

I can smell all the declared notes. The most potent are the almond and heliotrope, then the anise and musk join in, followed half an hour later by tonka bean. It stays close to the skin; even a body splash projects more, but I’m completely in love with Infusion d’Amande. It settles tenderly, powdery and clean, relaxing me immensely.

Infusion d’Amande is powdery, floral, and musky. It smells very Prada, with that characteristic powdery and slightly soapy touch. The most perceptible notes are the heliotrope, which gives that powdery sensation similar to iris, and to a lesser extent the almond and musk; I could even think it contains lavender. It’s used all year round, with no particularly fresh or warm notes. It’s unisex, less feminine than the Iris, until it brought me memories of Luna Rossa, but without citrus or mint. It lasted ten hours on my skin with low projection. I recommend it for those seeking something comforting, sophisticated, clean, and unobtrusive yet denoting neatness.

Smells amazing, but I won’t be buying it again: on my skin, it projects nothing and doesn’t last at all.

Reading the reviews caught me by surprise. It’s soft, fresh, with a powdery and tender touch. I tried it on my skin once, but since I usually wear it on clothes, I noticed it stays very close to the skin. On fabric, it lasts for hours (6-8) and leaves a slight powdery scent in the end. It’s sweet without being cloying, endearing and very pleasant. I’m not an expert to say how it evolves, but the comments explain it well. I’m already a fan and those around me like it. It doesn’t leave people indifferent. Rich.

Infusion d’Amande has been a sigh of relief in my search for almond scents. An authentic Prada, with an elegant yet informal opening, iridescent, and featuring notable almonds. I love it. I hadn’t looked at these perfumes in ages, and when I saw it discontinued, I seized the chance to try it; it’s hard to find and a real pity. It’s one of the most beautiful almond scents. Its powdery touch from heliotrope, with freshness and a metallic nuance, recalls the iris from the house. It possesses extreme quality and the naturalness of powdered almonds for any season, feeling like a nymph. The base is musky tonka, a little retro but just right, without losing freshness. Refined Prada style, like Iris. It does last on clothes, with medium longevity. Perfect for summer: sweet and refreshing without being a fruit-musk hybrid. Prada avoids the buzz of the musk and powders it, offering a frozen iridescence.