There’s something oddly coquettish about about this one, as if the perfume flirts with the wearer.
Opens with pink candy fruit and spring flowers (Do I get a whiff of banana or am I just looking for it because there’s one on the package?) that immediately settle to an inch above the skin, and stay there all day long, blanketed down by the softest wood musk– –but in that intimate space, Perfect is an attention seeker.
I can only smell it when I lift my hands near my face–during a drink from a glass, resting my chin on my fist, smoothing my hair–but those moments are intensely sweet and distracting, a private tease with a wink and a smile, meant just for me.
The notes aren’t that special (seems like rhubarb and cashmeran are in everything right now) and a bit too girlish for me, but the performance is clever and fun. I’d love to see more designers explore this topography.
Duran Duran’s cover of Lou Reed’s classic is perfection.
Cool Swirl is a trip through our nearest Korean grocery, with the produce that smells of sweet greens and strange fresh fruit, the dairy case full of coconut water, the shelves of flower scented cosmetics, ending at the freezer chest by the register, filled with melon popsicles and Bravo pistachio treats.
Lasts a half hour in intimate space and becomes a faint skin scent of musk and ice cream. (For longer satisfaction skip the scent and grab a pint of B&J’s.)
I really should have chosen BLACKPINK and Selena Gomez’s “Ice Cream” but it makes my head hurt, so here’s Tom Waits instead.
Pears covered in silver leaf that slowly tarnishes to dull fog and rain–ripe and juicy but with a metallic edge, carried in intimate space with a misty wet musk. Not bad in a moody winter-in-the-city way.
Perfect for that melancholy guy who never remembers an umbrella.
An opalescent woody musk–there’s a lovey creamy yet multifaceted quality about it–and blatantly rich. Starts out with a splash of Shalimar cola, then dusts up with earthy mineral powder made carnal and soft by gardenia. A bit of rose grows up a few hours in, wild, dry and thorny over the cedars, staying in personal space all day.
Marketed to women, but would be absolutely lethal on masculine types, in a sulking prince way.
Benjamin Haycock is a singer/rapper/songwriter out of the UK–I love the percussive techniques he uses on the guitar.
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.
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.