It was impossible for me to grasp this perfume at first. The first time I smelled it I thought it was like bin juice/Promise (which I also didn't like but now do like), but I've learned that with perfume, especially Amouage perfume, I should always try again (bar anything that turns my stomach).

I've completely come around now, and I find this to be a majestic, spectacular journey, almost unparalleled anywhere in the world of perfumery. I can't have a favourite Amouage, as they are all so bold, and it's so dependent on my mood and many other factors, but I think this one is about as genius as you can get, and perfectly represents Christopher Chong's creative vision, and the harmonious, wonderful repeated collaboration between him and Karine Vinchon Spehner over the years. What a beautiful way to end an era.

My original review:

"There's a lot going on here.

The opening for me is coconut and basil shoved in your face/up the nostrils before quickly making way for some vomity, poopy rotting fruit, with shit loads of syrupy sugar.

It's an assault on the senses, bearing no resemblance to the advertised notes (except the grapefruit) and is more like a Xerjoff than an Amouage. Sickly."

So so wrong on all counts!

I feel ashamed for comparing this to a Xerjoff. I'm figuratively slapping my wrists, and literally cringeing as I reread what I wrote 😅

A Men Pure Lavender

唔，我的意思是，如果我在没有闻过她其他香水的情况下闻到这个，我会觉得它很棒，但实际上她大多数香水之间的差别真的微不足道。这闻起来和《恋人的故事》一模一样，但更适合日常佩戴。《恋人的故事》强烈得令人难以忍受，而这个则是同样的香味，但更柔和。

By a long way the best perfume from this house. It's versatile and beautiful, with great performance without shouting. It's one of the ones which doesn't seem like a joke perfume somehow.

It's Rose de Russie, no difference.

Imagine someone wearing a loud, arab amber/fake oud fragrance changing their baby's dirty nappy, and they've just started to talc the little bottom, while the soiled nappy is still within smelling distance and you walk in at that exact moment..... Voilà, Blossom Love. But I'm not mad at it.... It does calm down after the quite hair-raising opening. Update: actually I have to retract my previous statement. This is, and remains, a MASSIVE, bombastic, more is more, EXTRA, histrionic diva, but not a diva with the chops of talent, more a desperate housewives type of hot mess with plastic, enlarged lips and eyelids that sag with years of encrusted mascara and coagulated benzodiazepines. The only person I can imagine smelling like this in all seriousness would be an alcoholic, low-quality Liza Minelli drag tribute act.