Bagatelle is a luminous woody floral. Radiant because of the neroli and citrus oils that Guerlain does so well, woody curtesy of cedar and vetiver, and floral, well floral because. The opening is one of the most glorious citrus openings I've ever encountered in a fragrance. Mostly because of the neroli that seems to cut the sweetness that is typical in such a heavy floral composition. There's a nanosecond of Fracas, a nanosecond of Herrera classic and then they both leave so that Bagatelle can show its true colors. A tuberose rich heart, with gardenia noticeable too, orange blossom and magnolia, which lends its unmistakeable sweetness, in the same way it sweetens up Mito by Vero Kern. As hard as it is to believe, the heart feels anything but cloying. It doesn't have the buttery feel of Fracas, nor the come hither excess of Poison, but instead it showcases the white florals in a sort of cologne way. When launched, Bagatelle was conceived as a bright and sparkling edt, so even though it's diffusive and long lasting, the aldehydes along with the citrus showcase the more innocent side of this garden. It's powerful alright, but with a joie de vivre. The woody drydown is lovely, as my skin tends to showcase the vetiver, along with a delicate but not clean musk. Many guys who love big white florals, but are kind of hesitant to use something like the aforementioned ones, have a good chance of liking Bagatelle as is decidedly woodier without losing the narcotic effect that tuberose and the like have. In a way, it doesn't feel Guerlain-ish. There's a big departure from the earlier scents of the house, but when you smell the entire evolution of the fragrance, you notice that even though the heavy nature of an 80's white floral has not been reduced, as that would be both impossible and sinful, the airyness of the whole composition screams elegance. It feels like the lemon meringue airyness that would later appear in Shalimar Legere. Take the 80's and infuse some table manners, and you get Jardins de Bagatelle. Guerlain can't do cheap and trashy even if they wanted to. Instead, they bring their answer to the fashionable powerhouses of the decade, in this 1983 creation that somehow remained hidden among the Samsaras, the Shalimars and the Mitsoukos, passing mostly unnoticed as my 2007 bottle, bought in the busiest department store of Madrid in 2015, shows. It has its fans, but I don't think there are too many. I just hope it doesn't get axed in favor of more gourmands. The new packaging is a good decision, if it means it's staying, but I'm not sure how that one smells. Don't give up the chance to give it a try next time you see it. It's an under the radar Guerlain that has a lot to offer.