It's a somber scent alright, but to me extremely wearable and delectable.
I was a bit apprehensive how the reformulation, and especially in edt concentration, would work for me after my experience with the vintage extrait, but I have to say that I am very pleasantly surprised.
Now weeks later, I still have the man, but I've taken a break from Mitsouko and moved on to floral greens and powder, and back into my own apartment.
I wore a robe I had used during that time which has escaped the washing machine. May this forever be the smell of my own Summer of Love.
A drop to the back of my neck wafts for the whole day.
It's woody, fusty, lovely smell, which to my nose feels like the smell of my own body but better.
Try them I have - at great personal cost, mind - and... Mitsouko is the last of the four that I've hunted down samples for, and, yup, dusty, old, mothballs and velvet curtains in an out-of-use theatre building scent. I own a vintage 8 ml spray bottle and a 2 ml dab-on mini of the extrait.I wore the extrait occasionally for the past 2 or 3 years; I would wear it more often, were it not for my being very careful with my vintages, which I don't have that many of.I love the extrait - it still has the real oakmoss, it's potent, thick, and lasts forever on me.This being an edt, I guess it's only to be extected that the longevity would not be as good as that of the extrait, but I wish it would radiate some more, I only get about 4 hours out of it, and then I have to reapply.It might be my nose too, though, because my boyfriend said he could still smell it on me when I had stopped smelling it on myself already.The bottle has the same shape as the one of Heure Bleue (1912). This one is perhaps a bit fresh, a bit urinous (a floral / moss brand of urinous quality) with some very unusual white flowers, roses and spices.