Max Mara

8 reseñas

Mostrando las más recientes primero.

• selene85

  September 10, 2013

  

  An elegant, delicious (nothing cheaply sweet), sparkling fragrance that lasts on the skin and has a lovely trail.

• selene85

  September 20, 2013

  

  An elegant, delicious (nothing cheap and overly sweet), sparkling fragrance that lasts on the skin and has a trail.

• Espartaco

  November 24, 2020

  

  The girlfriend perfume of 2004. All those citrus-floral scents that were all the rage back then, bottled into a fragrance without personality, without any backbone, without an ID number—a stateless wanderer, and yet, damn it, it smelled wonderful. By 2005, the world seemed like a much more distant place; social media hadn’t yet obsessed us, people still read paper, the 21st century had arrived, yet curiously it felt far less modern than promised. No inkling of any future crisis; the world was running at full power. Everyone drove a Mercedes that left you speechless; every god had a modern flat with a glass shower and a kitchen island. In those days, you were simply lying on your sofa, a fashionable chaise longue, watching a film and eating junk food, while your girlfriend lay across your legs, and a stroke of her mane gifted you a scent of lilies, magnolias, and honeysuckle macerated in citrus and oily musk, with a lingering taste of sexual human skin. If that aroma—so impersonal, flat, monotonous, and fucking addictive—did sin by being too sweet when dry, so what? It smelled of white citrus, erotic flowers, with nuances of both cold and warm talc, spicy and musky. It was one of those soft yet thick mists, at once, with memories of some kind of transparent, dense floral muslin, like a piece of intensely narcotic ozone. This Max Mara is one of those bland perfumes that smelled of death, from the era when sweet scents were bearable, like a version of J’Adore centred on white flowers with a crunchy, unisex twist of ginger. It reminds me of another similar one, V Valentino, which was less sweet and had a lovely cold consistency. That’s about it; a zero on poetry and art, with a certain taste of a catalogue perfume from the time: divine sweet-floral mists in beige and white tones. It also made me think of floral, spicy, fragrant packaging, like lilacs and wisteria, but in golden hues. Bottled glory. Every time I remember it, my mouth waters. I wouldn’t pay a penny more for it. But sometimes the best things are simple, and this was perfect in its only purpose: to smell wonderful.

• Espartaco

  December 5, 2020

  

  Your girlfriend’s perfume in 2004. All those citrus and florals of the era bottled into something without personality or backbone, a rootless wanderer, yet gutsy because it smelled wonderful. It’s 2005; the world seems different. We aren’t obsessed with social media yet; we still read in print. The 21st century has arrived and seems less modern than promised. No idea of a crisis; everything is going full steam, everyone drives a Mercedes that leaves you speechless, everyone has a modern flat with a glass shower. You’re lounging on your sofa, a fashionable chaise longue, watching a film and eating, while your girlfriend rests on your lap and a whiff of her mane gifts you a scent of lilies, magnolias, and honeysuckle macerated in citrus and oily musk, with a hint of sexual human skin. If that flat, addictive aroma sins by being too sweet when dry, so what? It smells of white, citrusy, erotic flowers, with nuances of cold and warm talc, spiced and musky, a soft, thick mist, with memories of transparent yet dense floral muslin, like a piece of narcotic ozone. This Max Mara is one of those bland perfumes that smelled to death, from when sweets were tolerable, like a J’Adore version centred on white flowers with a crunchy unisex ginger touch. It reminds me of another similar one, V Valentino, which was less sweet and had a lovely cold consistency. And little more, a zero in poetry, with a certain taste of the era’s divine, musky beige and white mists; it also made me think of flower packaging like lilacs and wisteria, but in gold. Bottled glory. Every time I remember it, my mouth waters. I wouldn’t pay another penny for it. But sometimes the best things are simple, and this was perfect: it smelled wonderful.

• Adry_slim

  March 28, 2021

  

  I owned this, not once but twice, and the second time it was the largest bottle. That’s when I realised it was marketed as a women’s perfume, yet I always say scents have neither sex nor age if worn with style. To me, this Max Mara was sweet and floral, but not in a feminine way; in fact, many women told me it smelled amazing. What I do remember is that not even God smelled as good as I did, haha.

• Adry_slim

  March 29, 2021

  

  Well, I owned it, not just once but twice; in fact, the second time I had the largest bottle. It was when I bought the second bottle that I realised it was a women’s perfume. I’ve always said, and I always will, that for me scents have neither sex nor age, provided you know how to wear them. For me, this Max Mara was sweet and floral, but that didn’t make it feminine. In fact, not few women told me I smelled very good. What I remember perfectly is that not even God smelled as I did, haha.

• mdelgado

  August 25, 2023

  

  Majestic and queenly! This citrus blend with ginger makes it an incredible, unique fragrance. I was gifted the first bottle, and I hunted for the second one at any cost. I wish I could get my hands on it again.

• mdelgado

  September 4, 2023

  

  Majestic! Dignified of a queen. That citrus combination with ginger makes it a wonderful, unique fragrance! The first bottle was a gift; the second I had to move heaven and earth to get. I hope I can have it again.