Reviews of N'Aimez Que Moi by Caron

I applied N'Aimez Que Moi EDP and started listening to a French Horn solo Spotify playlist, as for some reason, it reminds me of the horn's plangent timbre. The open phrase is classic Caron, feeling like a glade within a dense, mossy forest, moths fluttering feebly on wild herbs, and the distant plaintive cries of a rose among consoling sweet violet and clove-shaded lilac. "Dry your eyes" they say, in the powdered, cloudy, misty daydream glade.

The rose, now upraised, disperses the mist with its own song, "Love Only Me." The clouds part just somewhat and rays shine down, the french horn echoes into the forest. The rose is now joined by the chorus of the woods, the arching cedars genuflect, and the refrain sings, "we will reunite my love, and all will be well." This smells of one of the truest roses, if only for a short, magical time, until the wooded chorus sends it to a blissful sleep.

This may prove to be far too precious, antique and fusty to all but the connoisseur, but I happen to find it absolutely faultless. It's poetry.

For me, this was love at first sniff, and the feeling has stayed for more than a decade. Several reviewers have mentioned its "old lady" connotations. Well, this old lady absolutely loves it! I really don't think that's a good way to describe any scent, because tastes will always vary, no matter what one's age, but when it's applied to a classic like this, it is a backhanded compliment. It signifies that N'Aimez Que Moi is a beautiful, other-worldly fragrance which has stood the test of time. The rose and violet opening notes are soon joined by delicate lilac, yet you can still smell each one distinctly, and when the cedar and vanilla emerge to darken the floral accord they add to the sense of mystery this perfume conveys. The notes of sandalwood and civet anchor the scent, while musk contributes to the overall dreamy feel. I have the EdP and have not tried the extrait, but it's on my list. I hope they never stop making it, although it seems as though Or Et Noir has disappeared, so if you love any Carons, better get backups.

At first the whump of the hefty Caron base (deep, powdery-resinous) masks the floating quality of N'Aimez que Moi. Then there is the ferocity of clove and something like the brambly undergrowth from Malle's Une Rose that also make it appear to be more of a drama queen than it is.
But wait a short while and the rose, liquered, a bit musty but also powdery soft, wafts its magic gathered in clumps of cloudy violets and lilac. A touch of fatty, waxy orris gives it a discreet sheen. I find violets often give perfumes a watercolour, daydream-like quality – perhaps it's because their scent seems so borderless and diffuse – and that is certainly the case here. Later the base re-emerges, but gently, a pillow to lean back on, giving the florals a touch of earth.
If you have a tendency to dismiss this kind of perfume as old-fashioned and fusty, then N'Aimez que Moi will do nothing to change it. For the rest of us, it is a quiet pleasure, rich yet restrained about it.

Review is for the current EDP formulation.

A wonderful powdery Bulgarian Rose, surrounded by iris and violet. This lovely creation from 1917 is typical of what reviewers now call "old lady," with its heavy emphasis on potpourri florals (others have detected cedar, jasmine, lilac). The oakmoss support is also rounded out with notes that have been identified as: civet, sandalwood, amber, musk, vanilla.

This is truly old fashioned and set in its time. It is one of the best rose scents available today.

One of my all-time favourite scents, and one I'd never want to be without. The opening of cedar and rose, quite dark and mysterious, like a half-hidden path through the woods, and then the swelling of yet more rose, this time with iris and violet, and something I can't identify; and finally the deep Caron base with its civet and oakmoss (which presumably is now tree moss, because of IFRA regs). You wear this perfume like a voyage of discovery. First, the cedars and wild roses shade your way through the forest, and then you discover the violets and irises blooming amongst the undergrowth. All the while, the civet and musk base draw you deeper and deeper into the woods, until you are almost lost. But the beautiful rose and violet notes act like Ariadne's thread, so that you never actually lose your way as you press forward all the way to the forest edge.
On me, both extrait and EdP last several hours.
Yes, it's old-fashioned in a good way, reminding me of the beautiful art nouveau jewelry and lace-bedecked clothes of the Edwardian era. It brings a touch of that lost world of quality and manners into our hectic 21st century lives. I have both the extrait and the EdP, and whenever I wear them I'm taken back in time to that more gracious era. If you appreciate vintage and classic scents, this is definitely one to try.

The heart of this vintage is the rose. But it does not sit alone. Violet, lilac & iris are listed but as support players they exist as nuances, and are not quite as easily identifiable as the central rose accord. To smell the rose, one has to get really close to the skin. It is a deep dark rose with a slight metallic tinge, certainly not of the dewy-fresh, budding variety. I'm testing the parfum which has depth to spare and unveils each layer at its own languid pace.

While I wouldn't exactly describe this bouquet as 'fusty', the freshly powdered aura represents a style that was popular in that era but may well be viewed as 'out of its time' particularly by a generation raised on a diet of 'instant gratification'. A true fragrance connoisseur however will have much less of a problem appreciating this composition from Ernest Daltroff.

I feel it is quite a shame that this great classic (nearly 100 years old) enduring the challenges of times (with rather completely different tastes in the perfume market today etc.) gets very little mention and obviously very few reviews.
It is very easy to dimiss this as musty and dated. Most of all, it has to do with the fact that today we hardly understand the nature of grand classic extraits de parfum that take their time to settle down and notes melting together on our skin, in order to create a dense, complex and rich olfactive experience.
Violet is certainly an important contributor in here at times while the fragrance shifts, which makes it tricky territory for myself and also adds much to the dated feel. The dark musty rose with a slightly smoky (I can't help but thinking of a component this shares with Tabac Blond) musk don't really help to change the mood of this composition. Actually, this stage in its really long-drawn drydown, where the smokiness is clearly perceptible, is my very favorite. It is the almost nocturnal blend of these exquisite dark rosy facets with a violet candy touch, a distinctive vanilla (not too sweet) and exactly this smoky muskiness that is very alluring.
N'aimez que moi is an old-world beauty from times bygone with class and eventually less innocence than the first two hours make you believe. Moderate sillage (elegant and comfortable) with very good longevity. Again, I only care for the extraits of the great Caron fountain perfumes. One last comparison: N'aimez que moi is far superior and interesting than Amouage Opus III to me.

A few miles down the road from me is the (in)famous Winchester House, built by the unfathomably wealthy widow of the Winchester fortune. If you don't know the story, she lost her husband and infant daughter at a relatively young age, and spent the rest of her life in a depressive state, supposedly haunted by the spirits of all who met their fate by a Winchester gun. She believed if she ever stopped building her mansion, she would die, and today the house stands as a testament to her state of mind. Staircases lead nowhere, walls were built and not finished with plaster, and after the 1906 earthquake an entire wing was boarded up and made off limits, proof that the spirits were out to punish her.The one shining exception to this shrine to insanity is Sarah's bedroom. As you climb an uneven set of 3 inch stairs (she suffered from arthritis later in life), you stumble into a room where you are hit by a blast of opulence. Deep, red velvet curtains and tapestries cover the windows, chairs and sitting couches. Her four poster bed and dressers are made of dark, well polished wood. The floor is made of intricately weaved overlay, and the marble fireplace is stunningly ornate.If you tour this house may I suggest wearing N'aimez que moi. It is THE scent for this landmark, as it opens as a moth-ridden, mess of a fragrance that appears to go nowhere. But then… it turns the corner and bursts forth with an incredibly rich Bulgarian rose and violet accord. It's as if you were channeling Sarah herself, who at one point was one of the wealthiest persons in America. I love this complex scent; it is mysterious, grand, and utterly original.

N'Aimez Que Moi was created in 1916, int he midst of World War 1, to bring some hope and the promise of faithfulness to the many couples that had to part ways until the war was over.You don't need to know all this to enjoy N'Aimez Que Moi gives a sense of intimacy and comfort. Despite the fact that it is in a sense “an old fashioned” scent, it is so well made and artfully blended that it is timeless. N'Aimez Que Mois opens dark and dense, as most Caron perfumes do. The rose is nearly hidden in thorns and darkness of notes of cedar, moss and what seems to be the crying out loud of the Caron base… Slowly but surely, fresh roses start to bloom and open up with dewy petals but an almost green intensity. There is something very convincing and real about them – they are just about as close to true rose as I've ever smelled. But the roses don't stand out on their own. The companionship of candied violets and powdery orris softens the green edge of the blooming roses, with a softness akin to kissing a very soft, freshly powdered cheek. And once you've reached the dry down, animalic tonalities of both jasmine and civet* create a sensuality and a sense of intimacy and closeness that lingers even longer than a kiss.Top notes: Cedar, RoseHeart notes: Rose, Violet, OrrisBase notes: Civet, Jasmine, Moss* The drydown is so utterly similar to Joy that I am wondering if N'Aimez Que Moi wasn't the inspiration for that perfume. However, N'Aimez Que Moi is so much more delicate and wearable for me, with none of the intense sharpness of aldehyde and lily of the valley that Joy attacks me with for the first couple of hours of wear.

I'm afraid I got nothing but Liddle Kiddles...does anyone else remember those little scented dolls? This is powdery, oversweet and very young. My husband said 'Yuk.' It's not actually offensive, but I definitely don't want to smell like I'm five years old. I detect nothing sophisticated or elegant about this. Makes me sad: It's another historical scent that just smells outdated on my skin. Glad the others here have found it more pleasing.

It has a certain vintage charm, I give you that. Very old-fashioned powdery/soapy violets and roses, neither sweet nor freshly natural. The base is a little ambery and perhaps a hint animalic. It seems to me most classic Carons have this cold/metallic/sharp quality to them. It might be my skin chemistry that makes them exceptionally soapy too, and that's not an association to a certain scented soap, I mean the nose-tickling quality of unscented soap.

The analysis I leave to those more knowledgeable, - but this scent lifts my spirits, makes me feel special, and very importantly, lasts quite well.I find it can be worn in sophisicated surroundings, or casually, and excellent for every day.Enjoy - I love it.

After it blooms on the skin, this is a lovely and classic sweetish floral chypre. The violet is creamy but a bit too candied for me--there's this almost too-sweet edge which rounds out the woods and spice and at times overbalances the composition for me. Nevertheless I appreciate this scent in principle and might on other people as well.

N'aimez Que Moi, launched in 1916 and one of the select urn fragrances of Parfums Caron, opens with a little rose, a little violet and with what smells like a lot of citronella. But hang in there. As this perfume (available only in pure extrait form from Caron Boutiques and a select few dept stores and etailers) develops, that magnificent Daltroff accord begins to shine through, and what's left is a delectable heart of creamy spiciness balanced with a chypre note that is just wonderful; it's worth the wait. The base of cedar, amber, vanilla and sandalwood along with the candied appeal of violet, iris and rose makes N'aimez Que Moi a worthy classic. According to the Caron web site, N'aimez Que Moi (“Love Only Me”) was developed during WWI as a way to boost morale among soldiers and the beloved wives and fiancees they left behind----“A true pledge of faithfulness, young soldiers gave this perfume to their betrothed so that they would renew their vows of love daily until the day when victory came.” Just as Guerlain scents its face powders with the fragrance that became Meteorites, so Caron scents (or did, at any rate) its face powders with N'aimez Que Moi. Delicate and beautiful.