This is so marvelously intriguing–a simple white floral that’s really a James Bond femme fatale in disguise. Comes in with a big hello of jasmine to the entire room, begging questions at social distance–Is that violet? patchouli? heliotrope? cigarette ash?–then winks with a smirk, because no, they’re actually almonds and cashmere musk being clever. Vanilla and sandalwood leave long trails in personal space like theme songs that get stuck in the head for hours and hours.
Bold and smart, and not as sweet as first impressions might give.
A 007 twist that makes Katy Perry’s classic intriguing again–(I adore PMJ.)
A tropical fruit freshie that disappears from the skin in 30 minutes, leaving a sour baby-spit-up stain on clothes. I get none of the promised ylang-ylang or crystalline lagoon waters, and I’m rather annoyed about the whole experience.
The brand website irritated me even more, with its suggestions for layering this scent with others in the latest collection. At $140 a bottle, we’re paying you to properly blend the fragrance, Guerlain.
A good bad mood song. (The whole album is awesome.)
TokyoMilk #76 lists lemon balm (I might get this at the beginning, with some pine needles) amber, daphne and musk (which I don’t suss out at all.) I mostly get sweet licorice, Lily-of-the-Valley, and a bit of earthy rubber, in a pleasant haze a few inches above the skin.
Off-beat, non-invasive, with very collectible packaging. Another on-brand issue from Margot Elena that would make a safe gift for anyone who would enjoy an herbal floral.
(For more of a sheer jewel vibe, check out any of Bvlgari’s Omnia line–Paraiba is very faceted.)
Honestly, I’m only writing this one up because it’s the last in the gift set and I need closure. And the photo turned out cute and I have some time to kill while waiting to get my COVID-19 booster vax.
Incanto Bloom might be the most heinous of the collection. (No, lady giving me the stink-eye for sneezing, I’m not contagious.)
So this mess goes on with grapefruit rind and curried sawdust, then delivers a bouquet of artificial roses before dying a sad musky death. Luckily, it doesn’t last long.
The disconnect between Ferragamo’s clothing and footwear design standards (their boots are marvelous) and this entire Incanto line of fragrances is hard to understand. The house knows what quality is, they’ve just chosen not to produce it.
(Get your booster shot, yeah? This crap isn’t over yet.)
Maroon 5’s hit came out in 2010 too–doesn’t last long either, but it’s more fun.
Lemon flavored window cleaner and Lipton peach tea powder out of the bottle, that turns to plain non-dairy creamer while the lilacs bloom, milky and warm in personal space, but a little dull. The bottom is safe patchouli amber just above the skin for half the day.
There’s something oddly repressed about the whole mixture–like the fruit notes want to bump-n-grind but they’re stuck in a demure floral dress–that feels dated. (I don’t think Guilty has been allowed anything fun to feel guilty about.)
Even Rachel Wood was the face of the Guilty campaign–she sang this in Across the Universe–but Siouxsie did it best.
Cheap, and smells it–thin watery flowers that turn pale violet, then get sad and cloying with generic musk and vanilla. If this were a costume it would be a Disney knockoff from the Dollar $tore with a vinyl cape and hard plastic mask.
A scent named after the best holiday ever should be exciting and mysterious. Maybe a little weird, a bit earthy, or candy sweet and spicy. And it doesn’t have to be expensive–Lolita Lempicka is perfect for the occasion (with much better violet vanilla musk), Coriandre is a brilliant witchy scent, Dead Sexy is spooky fun–or get creative and give that adorable homemade Snow White a dab of apple candy flavoring oil on her cuffs.