Dior Poison

Poison by Dior is one of those classics from the 80s that I don’t give a whole lot of run time to. Because I don’t like it. I tried to. I came around to Opium and eventually cultivated a reverence for Jicky, but when it comes to Poison, I am still left wondering why. I guess I just don’t like it! But I’m going to review it anyway because it is a well composed beast of a fragrance that remains one of Dior’s most popular perfumes. Poison

In Bottle: Smells sweet in the bottle, almost like cough syrup with a slight spiciness to it that layers over a faint woody presence.

Extra: Whew, Poison! You sure came in loud. There’s nothing quiet or gentle about Poison. She’s big, she’s bold, her volume’s all the way up and she isn’t afraid of share what she thinks. Poison starts off with a sweet plum and blossoms mix with a spicy blast that projects like crazy. The top notes are guaranteed to clear quite a bit of distance around you and create a Cone of Smell sort of thing as the mid stage comes in with a added dollop of spice that’s coated in jasmine, rose, and heliotrope. My favorite friend, tuberose also makes an entrance here. Dragging behind it is a very irate cedar scent. Amusingly enough the cedar in Poison is the type that teeters into loud and obnoxious territory but the rest of Poison is so loud and bold that the cedar smells almost tame on me. Once the sweetness and fruitiness of the opening calm down we get into the end stage where Poison is a spunky lady that smells of incense and sophisticated florals holding onto cough syrup in one hand while she applies lipstick with the other.

Extra: Poison was the original in a rather lengthy line of flankers. In addition to the original, we’ve got Poison Tendre (green), Hypnotic Poison (red), Hypnotic Poison Eau Sensuelle (also red), Midnight Poison (blue), Pure Poison (white). And that’s not including the elixirs. Clearly when Dior decided to go bold and different with the first Posion in 1985, they really hit it big.

Design: Poison’s bottle is in the shape of an apple and the glass is purple. Seems to be a popular motif for perfumes here, apples and forbidden fruits and whatnot. I do like the design of Poison’s bottle, even the blatant use of the symbolism is okay with me because the bottle is beautiful, feels nice to hold and is decently easy to handle.

Fragrance Family: Spicy Fruity Woodsy

Notes: Coriander, cinnamon, orange blossom, honey, pepper, plum, rosewood, rose, tuberose, wild berries, cistus labdanum, carnation, jasmine, heliotrope, cedar, vetiver, musk, vanilla, sandalwood, opopanax.

I’m pretty sure Poison’s tendency to smell a bit like cough syrup is what’s keeping me from this fragrance. But don’t let that stop you, she’s  big and brass and if you’re looking for that, definitely give her a try.

Reviewed in This Post: Poison, 2007, Eau de  Parfum.


Floris Lily of the Valley

This is probably one of the oldest fragrances that I’m going to review in this blog–In terms of the fragrance’s release date, anyway. Floris’ Lily of the Valley was released in 1847. It’s a sheer, wonderful little floral fragrance that’s seen more history than anyone alive today. Lily of the Valley

In Bottle: Bright green citrusy floral with a hint of sweet lily of the valley. Very clean and smells quite classic.

Applied: In case it wasn’t already immediately obvious, Lily of the Valley is a soliflore dedicated to one of the most popular notes in perfumery. Real lily of the valley smells like a white, ethereal floral with a touch of sweetness. It’s a very delicate and fine scent. Floris’ Lily of the Valley plays up this type of fragrance. It opens with a clean lemon that clings onto the fragrances as it takes a turn for the floral middle notes. There’s definitely lily of the valley in there as its predominance is bolstered by a lightly sweet floral backing where I assume is where the rose and jasmine are hanging out. As the fragrance enters its base notes, you get a hint of the tuberose peaking through a greenness that reminds me of pinching herbs to see how they smell.

Extra: Lily of the Valley was one of Floris’ first perfumes. It was actually composed by Juan Floris, the founder and it is still hanging around today. Though without a doubt, some things in the formula have probably been changed to meet with changing standards and economic times.

Design: Floris is contained in a no nonsense glass bottle with a simple label declaring the fragrance name and house. It’s a simple and sharp design that doesn’t boast of any thrills or frills and I like it. It’s an appropriate echo for the the fragrance itself in its simplicity.

Fragrance Family: Soliflore

Notes: Green leaves, lemon, lily of the valley, jasmine, rose, tuberose, musk.

Lily of the Valley does smell like classic and as such, it’s often accused of smelling “old”. But there’s nothing old about it except how long it’s been around. It’s just a very light, ethereal soliflore with a classical scent to it. And okay, the lemon makes it smell a little bit like window cleaner.

Reviewed in This Post: Lily of the Valley, 2009, Sampler Vial.


Robert Piguet Fracas

If you want tuberose, you usually don’t have to look far. The fragrance industry is inundated with tuberose scents. From the highest end to the shower gels. Sometimes tuberose is even masquerading as gardenia. But if you want a really bold, really classic, very true tuberose, you get Fracas. Fracas

In Bottle: Powerful hit of sweet tropical, juicy, slightly rubbery tuberose. Fracas is very strong. I want to come out and warn you of that right away or I would feel bad. Aside from its strength it’s a lovely thing. It smells like the times must have been like back then, elegant and classy with a bold streak.

Applied: Wet rubbery tuberose with a sweetness added to it. This smells like a giant bouquet of flowers with a dominant tuberose the size of a skyscraper. The flowers, despite all their best efforts, are secondary to the tuberose that’s so massive and appealing that it can’t really scream any louder than it does in this fragrance. Unlike most people, and you shouldn’t go by what I say, I don’t consider tuberose as a sultry flower. It smells like slick rubbery floral to me and that’s about as far as I can take it. If you do happen to think tuberose smells sultry, then Fracas is sultry in a bottle. As the scent progresses, you start to wonder if it will ever end as not only is Fracas fantastic in terms of projection, its longevity is to be complimented too. There’s a subtle spiciness to Fracas if you wait her out long enough which gives the tuberose something to talk to as up until that spiciness, all I had was a big white floral.

Extra: Fracas was released in 1948 and is a classic by all accounts and purposes. It has become the go to scent for tuberose and its reputation is well deserved. It has survived this long as a reference and a piece of history and I’d like to believe it’ll survive for a good six decades too if you never wash it off.

Design: The eau de parfum is bottled in a fairly plain black bottle with hot pink lettering depicting the fragrance’s name and house name. Not Earth shattering in appearance but you don’t buy Fracas for the bottle.

Fragrance Family: Floral

Notes: Green notes, mandarin, bergamot, hyacinth, geranium, peach, tuberose, jasmine, orange flower, white iris, lily of the valley, violet, jonquil, carnation, coriander, balsam, vetiver, orris, sandlawood, moss, cedar, musk.

If someone hadn’t pointed me to that massive list of notes, I never would have believed it. Just as a point of interest because I know someone might be looking for this, you pronounce Robert Piguet like, “Row-Behr Peeg-Gehy”. You pronounce Fracas as, “Frah-Cah”.

Reviewed in This Post: Fracas, 2002, Eau de Parfum.


Chloe 1975

Not to be confused by Chloe 2008, the young remake of 1975. These two fragrances smell nothing alike. Though they share the same name and are both essentially florals, they are leagues apart. Chloe 1975

In Bottle: A heady, lush tuberose with jasmine and lily of the valley. It’s light, powdery and much more mature than Chloe 2008.

Applied: The initial fragrance is a light, lilting lily of the valley scent that’s quick to dissipate as a big lush tuberose and its friend jasmine head into the scene. Chloe 1975 is all about the white florals and no white floral is louder and more recognizable than the charismatic tuberose. Slightly sweet, and dusted in powder the tuberose is what dominates the heart of this fragrance but does let a nice classic rose and its jasmine friend in now and then. Chloe 1975 is a bit musky too, she’s a pretty floral but the tuberose and ambery treatment give her a little bit of sensuality. In the dry down, the tuberose is still very prominent as it mixes with smooth white woods and amber. Chloe 1975 was released in the powerhouse era and it’s strength is not to be undermined. Go light on this stuff if you have it or you will be smelled from quite a distance.

Extra: Chloe is a fashion house founded in 1952. Today, they still deal with fashion but have also added accessories such as handbags and sunglasses to their répertoire. Classic Chloe, as Chloe 1975 is often called, was replaced in 2008 by a new fragrance of the  same name. You can find Classic Chloe at discounters for the time being.

Design: Designed by Joe Messina, the bottle for Chloe 1975 is supposed to be reminiscent of a calla lily. A lot of people who see the bottle, however, associate it to looking more like a heart. Not Vera Wang Princess heart either. Think anatomical heart.

Fragrance Family: Floral

Notes: Lily of the valley, honeysuckle, orange flower, ylang-ylang, hyacinth, jasmine, rose, narcissus, carnation, tuberose, sandalwood, amber, oakmoss.

I vastly prefer Chloe 1975’s fragrance to Chloe 2008. But I prefer Chloe 2008’s packaging.

Reviewed in This Post: Chloe, ~1980, Eau de Parfum.


Guerlain Cruel Gardenia

More hits from Guerlain’s exclusive and prestigious l’Art et la Matière line. Cruel Gardenia is one of those gardenia scents that reminds me of Annick Goutal’s Gardenia Passion in that if there is any gardenia in this, I am not smelling it.  Cruel Gardenia

In Bottle: Pretty enough, lightly floral and creamy with slightly powdered underbelly. It smells girly and pretty and delicate like a single flower. That flower isn’t gardenia though.

Applied: After the first application Cruel Gardenia starts to sink into my skin and proceed to disappear without fanfare. Odd experience for me as the first waves of understated fruity florally goodness give way to an airy violets and sweetness floral heart rotating around a lilting vaporous muskiness. Oh, hi, tuberose. I see you’re in on this too. How are you doing? See, Cruel Gardenia is not so much a fragrance about Gardenia as it is dedicated to breezy, clean and girly florals that focus around being pretty to sort of steer me away from the fact that if there’s gardenia in this then there’s very little of it. The fragrance dries down to a pleasant enough lightly floral, creamy but unsweetened dry vanilla.

Extra: The crowd’s still out on the best blended gardenia fragrance but I’m going to have to pass on Cruel Gardenia. There’s not enough in there to really justify this. Certainly not for the price anyway.

Design: Bottled much the same way as Tonka Imperiale, Cruel Gardenia is encased in a lovely rectangular glass bottle and comes with a regular sprayer and a pump atomizer. And like Tonka Imperiale and Spiritueuse Double Vanille, once you install the sprayers onto these bottles you can’t refit them into their original boxes. I am still peeved about that, yes.

Fragrance Family: Floral

Notes: Peach, damask rose, neroli, violet, ylang-ylang, white musk, tonka, vanilla,  sandalwood.

Maybe I’m being a bit harsh on these non-gardenia gardenia fragrances but I feel like I’ve been led on a wild goose chase. On the other hand, if you want to buy some fantastic, pure gardenia essential oil, Enfleurage’s looks mighty tempting.

Reviewed in This Post: Cruel Gardenia, 2010, Eau de Parfum.


Baby Phat Dare Me

So I sprayed this on a tester card and decided to rub a little on myself to see how things go from there. How it smells on a tester card and on me is wildly different. Interesting, though not unheard of. Baby Phat Dare Me is a tropical blend of fruits and florals. Emphasis is on the coconut. Though on the card you really couldn’t tell just what it was trying to do. Dare Me

In Bottle: What the? All I get is tuberose. I swear this smells like a creamy tuberose which makes me think this is one of the more pleasant tuberose soliflores I’ve ever encountered. Upon reading the fragrance notes and looking at what everyone else says I am perplexed as I realize this was the result of a coconut note on astray. Hey, when you’re wrong, you’re wrong!

Applied: Actually, I refuse to believe I’m wrong as this smells like creamy tuberose. Big pink and smooth, with a bit of sweetness. That is what I get for the first few minutes and I’m sticking with my story. After things settle down a little and I regain my senses, I start to see where the coconut is coming from. It’s one of those sour coconut notes, not the creamy, lush kind that’s usually treated with vanilla and sugar to make it more gourmand. The coconut in this one is rather prevalent as it blends in with some tropic flowers and turns a bit green on me. As it settles down into the dry down stage, that sour coconut note is still lingering about until it dissolves into a slightly tart strange and a little bit musky.

Extra: I hold firm that I smell tuberose in this. I swear I’m not crazy. My nose might adore tuberose and smell it in everything though. So uh–as for this fragrance, it was supposed to be billed as a pleasant lush tropical, summery scent. They really outdid the tropical summery part of it and as much as I love coconut, that note in this fragrance was entirely too predominant and it wasn’t the sweet coconut variety either.

Design: Dare Me is bottled in a pink glass flacon with gold detailing and a plastic cap designed to look like a jewel. It looks a bit more like cauliflower to me though. I don’t find the design of the bottle aesthetically pleasing but I also think the look is a little over the top. However, I believe Dare Me is in line with the look of other Baby Phat bottles so if you are into that kind of look then you’ll like this.

Fragrance Family: Fruity Floral

Notes: Magnolia, island coconut, audacious southern honeysuckle, African white milkwood, confident crème de musk, sandalwood.

I’m not feeling the coconut note in this. What I’ve noticed with coconut notes is that there’s a couple kinds. The sweet type and the sour type. I encounter the sour type more often. Sometimes it’s loaded with sugar or vanilla which helps masks the sour. Case in point: Dare Me and Victoria’s Secret Coconut Craze. Then there’s the sweet coconut that isn’t as sour and has a nice sweet, wateriness to it. That one I swear I smelled in Creed’s Virgin Island Water. But then, it could all be the same coconut note for all I know and it’s just coming up strange in some fragrances but not in others.

Reviewed in This Post: Dare Me, 2010, Eau de Toilette.


Juicy Couture

Juicy Couture was the original that led a couple of flankers, including the sugar mountain fragrance, Juicy Couture’s Couture Couture. I notice one strange thing about Juicy Couture in that every time I smell it, it smells a bit different. My first time, it was a powdery floral. The second, a bright citrus fruity scent, and lately, Juicy has a fresh and fruity opener. So I decided to pin this one down for good this time and just review it already. Juicy Couture

In Bottle: Citrus cut with white florals and a hint of what I think is tuberose. Juicy Couture’s supposed to have a tuberose punch in it. Which, considering I’m actually expecting tuberose this time, will be a welcome sight.

Applied: Juicy Couture opens with a fruity citrus kick that mellows out soon after into a nice, fresh floral fragrance containing tuberose and a dewy lily note. There’s some very sharp lingering in the background to this fragrance too and to my nose, it smells like white musk that cleans things up a bit. The florals in this are well-mixed and quite impressive as they float in and out of the subtle sweetness left over from the fruity opener. The dry down introduces a little bit of greenery and woodsiness that helps to herald in Juicy Couture’s very inoffensive mild woodsy, patchouli last stage.

Extra: Juicy Couture has two flankers–sort of–Viva la Juicy and Couture Couture.

Design: Usually praised for their bottle design, Juicy Couture bottles this fragrance in a nice squarish package with a detailed top that consists of a plastic spire over a metal cap band. Wrapped around the cap band is a necklace you can take off and wear with  some charms on it, including a J shaped scepter, a plastic crown and a safety pin. The front of the bottle has the Juicy Couture emblem on it.

Fragrance Family: Floral

Notes: Watermelon, mandarin, pink passion fruit, green leaves, hyacinth, marigold, tuberose, lily, wild rose, caramels, powdery vanilla, creme brulee, patchouli and woods.

I prefer this fragrance, vastly, over its latest incarnation as Couture Couture. I’ve smelled Viva la Juicy on a handful of occasions and every time I end up coming away feeling pretty benign to it but Juicy Couture has a lovely well-blended mix of florals, musk and sweetness that’s very appealing to me and despite those  gourmand notes at the end, I got nothing gourmand about it. And I’m okay with that.

Reviewed in This Post: Juicy Couture, 2008, Eau de Parfum.


Annick Goutal Gardenia Passion

I suppose spring is coming to my nose, that means breaking out the florals and readying the fresh for summer. Gardenia has a sweet fragrance with that similar greenness to it that I notice in a lot of flowers. To me, it’s a crisp, young reminder of warming temperatures and budding leaves. Then you have Annick Goutal’s Gardenia Passion, the fragrance with the deceptive name. Gardenia Passion

In Bottle: Gardenia Passion is tuberose. Predominantly tuberose. So tuberose, in fact, that in the bottle I smell nothing but tuberose. Tuberose, tuberose, tuberose. This is so tuberose in the bottle that it beats out By Kilian’s Beyond Love. Though it lacks the finesse and gentle greenness of Beyond Love.

Applied: Strange sour, almost vinegar-like, note upon spray that lingers for a few minutes after application. That sour note is mixing with the sweetness in this fragrance and the powerful hit of tuberose. This makes for a pretty wickedly strange blend of sweet and sour florals. The sourness does go away eventually, letting tuberose shine through. I’m searching the murky waters of Gardenia Passion for its namesake but aside from that sweetness–which could be from the tuberose too–there’s not a whole lot of it to be had. I feel a little cheesed, honestly, because a fragrance named for gardenia should either have gardenia in it or at least have notes that illustrate the concept of gardenia. With the way this is going, it should have been called Tuberose Passion. Or Tuberose to Eternity. Nothing wrong with tuberose, just, where’s the gardenia? I get no mention of that elusive gardenia on dry down either. It’s just lighter tuberose with a vegetal background.

Extra: Now, I like tuberose. I think it’s an interesting blend of screech and whisper. Tuberose is a sweet, almost tropical scent. Sometimes, people mispronounce its name saying, “toober-rose“. It is actually, “toob-rose“. As for Annick Goutal, the company was started in 1980 by Annick Goutal and had a skin cream line prior to branching off into fragrances.

Design: Placed in a beautifully textured bottle with a ribbon tied to the neck. From that ribbon dangles a paper label with the name of the fragrance and house on it. The cap is colored gold, very lightweight, but comes off the sprayer nozzle very smoothly. The sprayer works just fine.

Fragrance Family: Soliflore

Notes: Orange blossom, tuberose, jasmine, gardenia, herbs.

It’s almost funny that this should be a soliflore, given the fact that its focus is on the wrong flower. But maybe that was the point. Maybe I’m just smell blind to whatever gardenia was used in this fragrance. Maybe I’m just nuts about tuberose and it is the only flower I will ever smell again.

Reviewed in This Post: Gardenia Passion, 2010, Eau de Parfum.


Balmain Ambre Gris

I don’t hate ambergris despite how often I make fun of it. I just find a lot of ingredients (or former ingredients seeing as many of them are now synthetics for very good reasons) to be amusing. Who thought up extracting musk to make fragrances? And how did they come to that conclusion anyway? Similarly, the story of the first chunks of ambergris discovery must have been simultaneously awesome and hilarious at the same time.

Er, anyway, Balmain’s Ambre Gris captures the essence of the note and it did it a little too well. wnqwqf45

In Bottle: Sweet with a musky, spicy, woodsy base that goes into the back of my throat and gets caught there. I get golden, warm and cinnamon in this but it’s definitely not gourmand. I don’t want to eat this at all. The musk is distinctly telling me not to and I’m going to oblige. It just smells fascinating.

Applied: Sweet, spicy and powerful. Ambre Gris packs a big punch as it throws itself in all directs around application spot. This stuff is potent and you do not need a whole lot of it to project yourself. The musks in this fragrance and the sweetness are trying really hard to convince me that this is what real-life ambergris sitting on a beach smells like. There is a very, very minor saltiness to this but I had to work for that one. Ambre Gris is golden, warm, and a bit racy. It’ll also last, and last, and last, and just when you’ve outlasted it, you’ll get a whiff or two and think again.

Extra: Ambergris comes from whales. More specifically, it’s a regurgitated waxy, greyish lump of substance mostly used in perfumery after appropriate aging. Most ambergris in fragrances these days are synthetic, in that they’ve had various compounds mixed together to simulate real ambergris due to a wide barrage of ethical, legal, rarity and expense issues.

Design: Presented in a grey tinted glass bottle, Ambre Gris is topped with a golden, ball-like cap. The cap reminds me of a golden inverse golf ball. I’m fairly indifferent from the look of the fragrance itself. It’s easy, functional, the golf ball cap is a pleasant element.

Fragrance Family: Oriental

Notes: Pink pepper, cinnamon, tuberose,i mmortelle, myrrh, smokey woods , benzoin, white musk, ambergris.

Interesting how I couldn’t pick up on the tuberose but now that I know it’s in there, I did get that slick, slightly floral up-your-nose-and-around-the-corner tuberose kick. Or I could just be making it all up.

Reviewed in This Post: Ambre Gris, 2009, Sample vial.


Beyond Love By Kilian

Green seems to be the color of the day when it comes to Beyond Love. It’s a gentle, high-pitched tuberose fragrance that, if skimmed, seems like a relatively simplistic blend of green tuberose and light balancing florals. But a closer inspection yields a fragrance with a bit more depth and charge.Beyond Love

In Bottle: Green, clean, and floral fragrance. It’s got that special slick bite that tuberose has to my nose with a definitively green aura of fragrance that makes me think of green and white flowers, bitter leaves and rain. There’s something a little musky hiding in the backdrop and what I think is the fabled ambergris rearing its whale upchuck head to sweeten and add complex appeal to Beyond Love’s so far pretty green tuberose petals.

Applied: Instant payoff on the tuberose part as an entire bouquet of them blooms upon application with this bitter green note that sticks around for a few minutes before dissolving into the ambergris induced sweetness. I’ve lost any coconut that may have been present in the bottle and all I get now is tuberose with a gentle breeze of jasmine here and there. This is a bit of an interesting experience as the tuberose in Beyond Love is trying to convince me it’s a new, science fiction born tuberose that’s a cut above the rest and if misunderstood will go on a rampage to devour its enemies before it dies at the end of the day.

Extra: By Kilian is a fragrance collection by the grandson of the founder of LVMH (Moët Hennessy – Louis Vuitton), Kilian Hennessy. LVMH being famous for its luxury items.

Design: As I don’t actually have a bottle I can’t personally give details on the feel of the design. I will say, however, that no expense was spared to make sure By Kilian’s packaging was top notch. For what you pay for it (approx. $220USD for 50ml of Beyond Love) the money has to go somewhere into the packaging. I see dark covered boxes, carved designs on the sides of bottles, travel holders that look more intricate than any travel holder has the right to be. These things have a look that tries its best to make you feel like the $220 you dropped was not in vain.

Fragrance Family: Floral

Notes: Coconut, tuberose, jasmine, ambergris, musk.

Despite all this, Beyond Love faded in a record two hours on my skin. The shortest wear time of any fragrance I’ve ever tried. But then I also only had a sample tube and that may have had something to do with it. Still, for how much it costs, I am leery to pick up a full size bottle unless I know I’ll get $220 worth of longevity. Again, this could be the fault of the sample vial I have and it may very well have excellent lasting power in a bottle.

Reviewed in This Post: Beyond Love, 2009, Sample Tube.