As far as I’m concerned, there are two types of women in New York: Barneys girls and Bergdorf girls. These two groups are so distinct that there’s virtually no danger of mistaking one for the other. Barneys girls sport edgy, angular haircuts and generally gravitate towards Williamsburg (think Gossip Girl‘s Vanessa), while Bergdorf girls boast flawless highlights and have no intention of ever stepping foot in Williamsburg (think Gossip Girl‘s Blair).
Despite currently rocking about an inch of dark roots, I consider myself to be a Bergdorf girl through and through. I find the place simply enchanting. The first time I walked through those gold doors, I remember thinking that I had found the quietest place in New York. It’s a dignified sort of quiet, not the haughty or aloof kind. Holly Golightley was talking about Tiffany’s when she said, “the quietness and the proud look of it; nothing very bad could happen to you there”, but I know that she meant to say Bergdorf’s.
It was at Bergdorf Goodman that I first tried and fell for Ninfeo Mio. I have always enjoyed the sharp bite of galbanum on an intellectual level, but I generally find galbanum-heavy fragrances hard to love. They feel cold and unfriendly. Ninfeo Mio, however, is the most vivacious, amiable green perfume I have ever encountered. It’s the lemon and fig notes that manage to coax a smile out of the normally sullen galbanum.
The fig note used in Ninfeo Mio is sweeter than that used in L’Artisan Premier Figuier, but the absence of any coconut in Ninfeo Mio makes it feel a little less cliche. There’s something very natural about Ninfeo Mio, as if this is what an orchard containing lemon and fig trees would really smell like. The end result is a joyful, exuberant fragrance, one that sparkles and shimmers like a jewel in the sunlight. Ninfeo Mio is absolutely gorgeous, and just right for Bergdorf girls. Highly recommended.