Lancôme
A unique visual signature based on accords, character, and seasonality
An immediate burst of raspberry coulis collides with dewy rose petals, creating that jammy-floral hybrid that defined an entire era of mainstream femininity. The pink pepper fizzes on top like prosecco bubbles, adding a welcome sharpness that prevents the opening from drowning in its own sweetness.
As the fruit recedes slightly, a surprisingly lush jasmine emerges alongside softer peony and that curious currant blossom note—more concept than reality, adding a green-tinged floralcy that provides breathing room. The rose remains central, now less dewy and more powdered, as if someone's dusted the petals with icing sugar and left them to dry.
What lingers is a gauzy veil of vanilla-tinged musk with whispers of cedar providing minimal structure, the raspberry reduced to a sweet memory that clings to clothing fibres. The powdery quality intensifies here, creating that soft-focus effect where the fragrance becomes more impression than distinct notes—pleasant, forgettable, comfortable.
Trésor Midnight Rose is an unabashed love letter to raspberry syrup and damascena rose absolute, rendered in the kind of technicolour that only a big Lancôme budget and Anne Flipo's deft hand can achieve. The raspberry here isn't the tart, seeds-in-your-teeth realism of some niche offerings—it's confected, almost liqueur-like, with that unmistakable framboise sweetness that borders on gourmand territory without quite tipping over. The rose responds in kind, blooming full and pink-petalled against this fruit-stained backdrop, whilst jasmine sambac weaves through with its indolic richness, preventing the composition from becoming entirely saccharine. Pink pepper adds a fizzy, champagne-bubble lift that keeps things from becoming too heavy, though make no mistake: this is a sweet fragrance that knows exactly what it is.
The synthetic quality—and it is noticeable—manifests as that slightly metallic sheen modern musks often possess, creating a smooth, almost airbrushed finish that some will find too polished, others perfectly wearable. There's a powdery vanilla-cedar drydown that softens everything into something approaching skin-scent territory, though the raspberry ghost never quite leaves. This is for the woman who wore Lancôme's original Trésor in the nineties and now wants something younger, sweeter, less formal—perhaps her daughter, pilfering from the bathroom cabinet before a night out. It's unashamedly feminine, commercially appealing, and entirely self-aware about its place in the fruity-floral pantheon. Not groundbreaking, but executed with professional competence that makes it far more wearable than its 2011 launch date might suggest.
Add fragrances to your collection and unlock your personalised scent DNA, note map, and shareable identity card.
3.8/5 (87)