This one caught my attention when I first smelled it. It's not outstanding but I still think it's one of the best from Byredo. The performance could be better so you're not getting much for the price. I really enjoy the scent but the price makes this mediocre. And then there are issues with the name of the fragrance...
The citrus - especially bergamot - opening is bright and positive, but is not strong enough to have a really refreshing character. There is a fruity undertone that morphs into a coniferous woody drydown with a gently balsamic undertone, but without much of a raisinous component.
The base adds a vanillin note that is accompanied by a weakly ambery sideline.
I get weak sillage, poor projection and a rather suboptimal longevity of three hours, with the last hour being very close to my skin.
This summery scent is pleasant in its top notes, but only in a watery sense of a way; the rest of its development not exactly bad, but it is characterised by being generic, synthetic and diluted - as evidenced by the poor performance on my skin. 2.5/5
Light, airy citrus with creamy vanilla-amber woods. Very unisex and pleasant throughout. Smells almost commercially too good, like it's something found in hotel soaps or shampoos. The vanilla in here is muted and more floral, not gourmand. The drydown many hours in reminds me of Davidoff Silver Shadow.
Projection is adequate and longevity is decent lasting 6-8 hours.
Growing up, my mother quickly realized that, for a few years at least, my perfume grasp should not extend as far as my reach. I was 11, I wanted to wear her Ma Griffe and Youth Dew. She didn't want me wearing anything. Eventually, we compromised, and I was allowed 4711 and a bit of her Jean Nate. Several years later, when I was able to spend a portion of my babysitting budget on "colognes," I gravitated toward some of what I like to think of as the citrusy/herbal-ey/woody/green greats, like Eau de Lancome, Calandre, and Eau de Givenchy.
Gypsy Water reminds me of that style, albeit with a great slug of vanilla and some incense, both of which arrive a little too soon on the scene to muddy the waters. In addition, whereas the favorites of my teen years were assertive, with the kind of heft and projection that could cut through even the thickest of girls' bathroom and college-bar cigarette smoke, Gypsy Water stays close to my skin.
While it lingers, it's interesting enough to keep me sniffing, hoping to snag and hold on to the accord of piney goodness that pokes out every now and again, but the whole thing disappears so quickly that I can't see paying full price for a bottle of something this elusive, no matter how intriguing.