Maybe the most unexpected in the line Power by Kenzo is Kenzo World Power, a woody aromatic fragrance for women launched in 2019. Although the fragrance purports to be a relaxing essence, it possesses an even weirder combination than Kenzo Power Intense, in that it's both sugary and salty, retaining snippets of Reveal (Calvin Klein) and Olympea (Paco Rabanne) in equal measure and resulting in something new.
The overall impression in Kenzo World Power is quite unisex in that the cypress and salty notes recall something made for men in the woody or aquatic range of fragrances, yet the sweet almondy base notes with the backing up of strong aroma synthetics and woody essences speak of something aimed at both (all?) sexes.
The woody backdrop is reinforced with cooler weather and I think that cool weather brings out its better qualities, contrary to Reveal which is nicer in the heat.
It's interesting that we come at the end with a scent that without deviating too much from the clean and abstract original, manages to smell odd and salty-sweet without claiming neither office, nor gym proclivities. It's quite a big presence in terms of sillage and lasting, well, power.
I would very much doubt Kenzo World Power's potential as a date fragrance either, as it's not inoffensive, nor is it markedly within a certain frame of genre that would denote a specific "image" of one's self the way we tend to pick fragrances for romantic dates. It's definitely not meant for job interviews either. Maybe an introspective walk in the park or stay at home fragrance, then. Something that one enjoys alone. But one has to consequently wonder: will it sell enough not to be discontinued right away? It's a question to think about for sure.
The series of Kenzo World and its flanker fragrances has managed to bypass that by offering a very distinct visual presentation, literally "seeing you" in the sense of Lacan's "the mirror" concept. It's an interesting concept for all perfumes, because what is an artificial smell but an effort to transport images and feelings that we, as bipods, transpose to vision rather than more primal senses? Most fragrances heavily rely on visionary cues, from the perfume bottle design to the colour schemes chosen, right down to the advertising images that accompany their launch.
Overall, the presentation and visual emphasis for the Power series by Kenzo is more interesting than the fragrances themselves, still they merit sampling thanks to that rare correspondence of what we expect and what we get in the end. A mirror image of things rather than their true essence.
The perfumer behind this fragrance is Jerome Di Marino, contrary to the previous fragrances made by Francis Kurkjan. Top note is cypress; middle note is sea salt; base note is tonka bean. The fragrance circulates at an eau de parfum concentration.
Although rhubarb may sound totally contemporary, classical stuff likeMa Griffe by Carven has hinted at the tart juiciness in the context of a "green scent" in order to give a little mouthwatering taste alongside the pluck your lips bitterness. In fact rhubarb shares olfactory facets with rose and berries (another trendy note) therefore its inclusion in fragrant compositions comes easily enough. It also pairs beautifully with jasmine and tuberose which is a distinct plus.
Several years ago the Renaissance of rhubarb note started, however and today it is quite popular - in the niche segment at least most certainly. In the mainstream previous attempts at incorporating a rhubarb note were not met with great success: Burberry Brit Red, Alexander McQueen Kingdom, and Hugo Red by Hugo Boss were all commercial flops; some quite undeservedly indeed.
A slew of brands issued rhubarb notes in the interim with varying intensity and dare: Comme des Garcons Series 5 Rhubarb (which is very fruity and candied), Ricci Ricci, 4711 Aqua di Colonia Rhubarb & Clary Sage, Guerlain Homme Intense, and the Aedes de Venustas eponymous eau de parfum with its bold spicy basil and smoky incense context.
But the highlight into the public consciousness probably came with Hermès’s Eau de Rhubarbe Écarlate (review coming up); a fragrance that took the unusual note into central focus cutting it with a laser beam and flanking it with soft musks that would please the consumer into a false sense of familiarity. The trick worked. Suddenly everyone was crazy for rhubarb!
Of course Hermès had dabbled their hand in rhubarb before; the footnote in Rose Ikebana in the boutique exclusive line Hermessences was notable and created by Jean Claude Ellena who loves tart and saline effects in perfumery.
If Hermès was quirky and defiant enough to showcase the vegetable in the advertising images though, Cartier's La Panthère was the major feminine perfume which featured rhubarb notes unashamedly in a posh and chic context. It seemed to go down well so creators were becoming bolder.
The "Rhubarb leaf" in the recently launched Mugler Aura is a chord based on the long familiar and widely used material called styralyl acetate, or gardenol; its tartness is a good aesthetic match for rendering a shimmery effect in a gourmand composition. Kokorico by Night (Gaultier) is a lighter interpretation with cooler hesperidia as a counterpoint.
The new Champ des Fleurs (L'Artisan Parfumeur) is another testament to the power of vegetal notes lending freshness to contemporary compositions. The crunchy texture of rhubarb is something that should pair well in that context.
On the other hand the evocation of gardens is going well in the advertorials of Lovely Garden (Oriflame) and White Lilac & Rhubarb (Jo Malone). Nevertheless the former is more of a creamy and delicious compote of fresh rhubarb dressed in milk rather than anything green as implied by its design and naming. It's really something which anyone who is hesitant of rhubarb should try out; they'd be faced with a very surprised nose! Malone's rendering is more traditionally English garden with the tart interplay of rhubarb providing an anchor to the watery and heliotrope-like softness of the lilacs. It's a vignette out of an afternoon in the countryside.
Rhubarb only sounds weird in a fragrance till you try it. Like with many other things in life.
It's hard to fault a fragrance for being popular. After all millions of people buying it can't all be wrong, right? Mostly right.
Paco Rabanne hit the proverbial jackpot with their aptly named 1 Million for Men, a woody spicy scent that combines cinnamon and leathery amber notes in such a ratio as to come across as at once becoming and engulfing. Indeed step into any bar or club or even use the underground and you're certain to come across unmistakably wearing it and making their presence very well known indeed.
The projection (sillage in French, pronounced see-YAJ) of the sweetish, cozy fragrance is quite formidable, as you catch whiffs of it as said guy takes off their jacket or brushes a stray curl off their forehead across the table. You probably need to test the lasting power by the traces left on your sheets the next day and -boy, I can tell you- it lasts!! Oh how it lasts. You will never be able to wash it off completely; that's bittersweet in itself, isn't it?
Therefore if your bet is on sureness rather than individualism look no further than 1 Million. It's a million times trustworthy for tenacity and catching feminine attention.
When King Kong punches his pectorals in wild dominance, you know there's an ominous threat of being squished into pulp any minute now. When Joop! Homme approaches, thundering like the bass off a distant Jeep with the speakers in full volume, you know you're in trouble. This thing is (or rather used to be) HUGE.
It shouldn't come as a surprise being conceived by perfumer Michel Almairac in the decade of excess, the 1980s, but it always comes into my mind with a chuckle when I consider that Joop! Homme is just 3 years senior to the perfume that needs to be applied with a Q-tip shaken before one's self to apply, i.e. Angel.
Much like that other Godzilla of perfumery it is a sweet perfume. And it's a deep pink; it's an ingenious counterpoint of a male fragrance being tinted in the color of Barbies and kids' cough syrup, and of a female fragrance (Angel) tinted in the hues of male childhood since at least Edwardian times!
The clustering of vanilla, coumarin (described as tonka beans), and heliotrope in Joop! Homme accounts for a furry-embrace experience from a King Kong in amorous disposition. And when you think your favorite primate is doing all the love motions known to primates since time immemorial, and drowning everything out with a welcome splash of Coca Cola, a beautiful, clean orange blossom note emerges like the corolla of a blossom. And then gets engulfed with fluffy notes like cherry pipe tobacco.
If "you beast!" is the desirable moan off the lips of a potential partner doing the down and dirty, Joop! Homme is a mighty fine choice. The Newland Archers of this world might find it crude though, be warned.
One can blame LVMH for many things, but not for not knowing how to milk a thing on their hands. The Poison fragrance brand is a huge success for Parfums Christian Dior and not without good reason. Distinctive, aggressively noticeable, innovative at their time, the Poison perfume series has provided us with memorable fragrances. The new Poison Girl, out in February 2016 in my country, may fall short on the memorability stakes, but there's a clever twist inside to reflect one of the cleverest (and most enduringly popular) in the canon, the almond-powder feel of Hypnotic Poison inside a "youthful" sweet fruits and caramel medley.
collage made by Le Coeur Gothique (on parfumo.net)
It has been said that pop songs consist of recycling the same handful of chords, as one smart reader reminded me the other day, and the universe is well aware of my belief in fragrances' intertextuality (there's no parthenogenesis in art), so it comes as little surprise that I don't deem that bad in itself if the resulting collage is eye-grabbing. On the contrary it's a smart move by perfumer Francois Demachy, who oversees the creation process at Dior (no stranger to artistic influence themselves). Hypnotic Poison has created its own history and legend, and like Mugler's Angel basic chord before it, serves as a pop reference that pops up everywhere. Why not in the mother of all Poisons, aka Dior?
Poison Girl starts with a sweet, toffee like fruitiness of orange hard candy which vaguely recalls half the current market (La vie est Belle, Tresor La Nuit, Black Opium, Loverdose, Flowerbomb...), with a cherry cough syrup hint, that predisposes an avid Poison lover for toothache, but thankfully cedes to a powdery almond within the hour where it stays for the duration. Seeing as Hypnotic Poison Eau Sensuellegot to the good part straight away, I can only surmise that the intent is to grab a specific demographic interested in the rather tacky gourmand top note and who might come to love the development regardless.
LVMH needed something to spar with L'Oreal and they got it. Not bad.
A footnote on the ad campaign:
Rather lost on the advertising and naming of Dior's Poison Girl, personally speaking.
"Girl" sounds demeaning (would they have called a masculine fragrance "boy" if it would appeal to young men? Edit to add: Apparently they would, but there's a reason). The night club pictures with model and actress Camille Rowen holding a cigarette in her nubile hands under the No Smoking signs and her defiant (try stoned) look under her $200-posing-for-bed-head haircut looks as rebellious as a straight A's pupil going for an Anthropology major instead of the prescribed Law School. Is "no bras" the fighting field of young girls today? I very much doubt it.
At least the previous Poison editions had bold, imaginative, suggestive advertising. This is lame.
Do ballerinas secretly stuff their lithe forms with cherry-pie flavored cupcakes? If models routinely consume tissue paper in order to satiate their hunger, as infamously stated by Australian Vogue ex-editor Kirstie Clemens, I'm willing to believe anything. Powdery woody florals are a direction that is ripe for the picking, judging by recent releases such as Love, Chloe, See by Chloe, Esprit d'Oscar, Burberry Body perfume and the like, but in Repetto the direction is tilting the scales into gourmand fragrance nuances which seem incongruent with the associations we -involuntarily- make of dancers. Musky roses (with the odd white floral mixed in) with sweet nuances, reminiscent of such girly accessories as lip cosmetics, goose feather down and tutus, date at least as far back as Drole de Rose by L'Artisan Parfumeur (1996). Perhaps what seemed new then looks derivative now, but I wasn't wowed by the newest Repetto fragrance. Maybe it is that the brand has such an iconic pull that you expect more, more, more. In this case, however, it was a clear case of wanting less, less, less.
The cult brand of ballerina shoes the world over is without doubt the French Repetto; not only have they decked everyone from Brigitte Bardot to Vanessa Paradis, they're prized for being as comfortable as wearing nothing on your feet without sacrificing style. Just in the space of last year Repetto has seen an increase of 20%, mainly outside France where the brand is a national standby (the company is also present in 60 countries), which highlights the enthusiastic reception that this classic Gallic brand is enjoying in the domain of luxury and export. Let it be said in passing that Japan is their second biggest market outside France and they're planning on opening a boutique Repetto in Shanghai, China in September 2013.
After a spectacular development following the 1999 resurrection of the brand, founded in 1947 by Rose Repetto, costumer to the Opera, Repetto is launching their first feminine fragrance, developed with Interparfums who manage the uber-successful Burberry portfolio alongside many others. The perfumer chosen for the development of the fragrant jus is Olivier Polge, newly officially appointed to Chanel perfumes assisting his father Jacques Polge whose tenure dates since 1978.
"My goal was to create a handmade effect and bring together luxurious and authentic bases, suhc as powdery musky rose, which is the spirit of femininity. The result is a purified formula with essence of rose and vanilla", elaborates Olivier Polge. The fragrance also includes pear, cherry tree flowers and orange blossom notes, underscored by vanilla and amber woods.
The effect is powdery with the characteristic almond "fluffiness" of heliotrope and macaroons (if I were blindfolded and hadn't received info of the launch I would have pegged it as a Ladurée fragrance more than Repetto), soft, sweet with Frambinone, maybe rather heavy if you're sensitive to sweet notes like I am; heavy like an overweight ballerina in the unfair, politically incorrect world of classical dance where teachers are routinely drawing their nails along tender backs to make you stand straight. Could the Repetto-scented ballerina personification survive in that environment? Not if she shed her Dawrinian advantage, she would not... But the crux of the matter is that Repetto isn't but a ghost of ballet. It is a brand divested of its reality, it's fantasy.
Whereas Michel Almariac chose to instill an inedible element into the scheme of the powdery musky floral in See by Chloe, opting for the bitter sheen of soap, even though the brand could do with sweetness, Polge, armed with his recent experience in La Vie Este Belle, looked into cupcakes. In fact cupcakes are part of the promotion of the fragrance (I kid you not!) In that regard, it sounds like sacrilege but Guerlain presented a better "contemporary taste" perfume with La Petite Robe Noire.
It's not required that wearers of Cabaret by Gres burst out in spontaneous songs by Patachou, but when the incongruence between brand, finished fragrance and market demographic is so diverse you have a fine mess in your hands.
Repetto eau de toilette is presented in eau de toilette concentration (39 euros for a 30ml spray bottle, 79 euros for 80ml), accompanied by a matching body lotion, while the bottle is adorned by a medallion on a pink ribbon like the one in the emblematic Carlota ballerina flat. The fact that the fragrance is inspired by ballet dancing is emphasized by keeping as ambassadress the star dancer Dorothée Gilbert (who claims “Le parfum Repetto a du poids, du charisme”). The signature fragrance hit French counters on Monday July 1st and is set to create buzz in the international market soon after.
Violet is a limited edition "flanker"* of the signature Oscar fragrance, one of the group of limited summer editions by fashion designer Oscar de la Renta which launched through 2005 (Violet is from that season) and 2006: Soft Blossom, Soft Amber, Sweet Flower, Tropical Flower, Fresh Vanilla, Red Orchid, Pink Lily, Sheer Freesia, Citrus, Bamboo. [Wow they did a lot of them!] From this assorted progeny I always thought Violet was the best and though by no means a masterpiece or a must-smell, it's an easy to wear desert-like, yet judiciously restrained, vanillic fragrance. By all accounts a no-brainer, no need to steel-yourself-for-it scent, for days when you can't be bothered by complicated things and just want some cosiness and comfort.
The subtle overture is fresh and a bit "sweet peppery" thanks to the cinnamon touch sprinkled on a short-lived, citrusy accord. This very soon opens into the main plot: a dark chocolate accord, powdery cocoa shifted for angel's cake and 70% cocoa solids chunks for glazing it. This is quite a sweet perfume, which is a precarious balance to do right, but without the sickly candy notes of many a modern fragrance fare. More a cocoa-vanilla blend than one resting on violets, it's ironic it got named the way it was. (Even if consciously searching for violets when smelling it, you're getting the Violettes de Toulouse confectionary kind, not the Parma violet, even less so the metallic violet leaf note). The base is quite persistent, with inclusions of musk and sandalwood (creamy, goose-down soft), but the generic vanilla blend tends to overshadow these subtler, more discreet notes. This is the main drawback of the Oscar Violet fragrance and why it doesn't get out of the cabinet more. The drydown is lackluster compared to what a delicious, sophisticated gourmand like Angel Innocent, or Prada Candy can offer; and as to searching for a sweet violet or gourmand sandalwood combo I'll go with Bois de Violette, Santal Massoiaand Praline de Santal. Still Oscar Violet is so cheap online it's worth grabbing for your curiosities cabinet or your little sister who likes "sweet stuff" and shouldn't be let to plunge too deeply into the vulgar end lest she never resurfaces again.
If a few well-judged comparisons illustrate a point like a thousand pages, Oscar Violet is reminiscent of Hypnotic Poison Eau Sensuelle by Christian Dior and Deep Red by Hugo Boss (but sweeter, creamier than the latter) with similar notes of pear, mandarin orange, sandalwood, vanilla and musk.
Discontinued, but still found discounted on etailers and Ebay.
For our readers, a bottle of this discontinued fragrance up for draw, for those commenting.Draw is open internationally till Sunday midnight.
*flanker is industry speak for a new, different fragrance coat-tailing on the success of an established one by the same brand, exhibiting some twist on the name & packaging to differentiate it from the original.
I always wonder whether appearances correspond to the reality, the essence of a personality and vice versa, as I am sure you do too. The duality of a person is always fascinating to unravel. And an inconsistency often contributes to a greater fascination! Whether one will tolerate one in favor of another is entirely a personal matter. Nina, the modern perfume by Nina Ricci is such a case in point. It's hard to pass her by, because she's so popular ~even the bottle design was snatched by the producers of Twilight saga films, but courts decided in favour of Ricci in the end and it's now missing in action~ but the reality is less than convincing; at least for a purist such as myself, because it delivers and it delivers satisfactorily to its intended audience which is teenage girls if sales are any indication. Created as a perfume to evoke in ladies' minds a modern fairy tale for “all young women searching for surprise and fantasy… in a wonderland where dreams dress reality”, as the advertising tells us, it promises to be magical and enchanting, full of charm and seductiveness. Fairy tales are the escapism valves of modern hectic lifestyles and if one is so easily within one's grasp, it seems like a much healthier idea than downing a couple of pills, don't you agree?
The store when the scent launched devoted their windows: a huge silver tree was posing, with factice bottles resembling glorious red apples hanging from its branches like magical instruments of witchcraft and pieces of ivory organza interlaid on a silvery snowy ground in the middle of summer. It was beautiful…. The bottle, designed by French agency LOVE, is indeed one of the most gorgeous of recent years, paying homage to Hypnotic Poison, Lolita Lempicka and Be delicious, but managing to be more friendly that any of those and less heavy than the former two. It is also reminiscent of another great bottle that has launched a few seasons ago, Delices de Cartier. Made of transparent glass and silver metal it becomes raspberry red by the inclusion of the bright-hued juice. On the top, silver leaves crown an ergonomic sprayer that sprays a fine mist.
The fragrance itself is touted as the brand's single most important release in 10 years, after several trials that didn’t take off as expected: Premier Jour and its variations – let’s face it- never took off (the same goes for Les Bellesde Ricci, 3 interesting variations in similar bottles, long discontinued) although it’s a likeable perfume and the name of Nina Ricci has remained in its dove garlanded laurels for too long.
The modern Nina was composed by noses Olivier Cresp (the nose behind Angel, revamped Femme by Rochas and Noa) and Jacques Cavallier (of Eau d’Issey, Feu d’Issey, Ferragamo woman and Poeme fame) of Firmenich "with the Asian consumer in mind". I am not sure if by Asian they mean Chinese, Japanese, Thai people etc. (i.e. Far East) or they mean Middle-East and India, but the perfume could accommodate both tastes being tied with neither tradition or culture. The brand was simply hoping to strengthen their appeal in the international fragrance market and in particular in Asia, which is the emerging giant of consumerism.
Nina has a hard act to follow: Nina Ricci was one of the most popular couturiers in the mid-20th century fashion scene. Born in Turin in January 1883 she started as a highly talented apprentice, before devoting herself entirely to design. She formed a partnership with her only son Robert in order to open her own Haute Couture house at 20, Rue des Capucines, in Paris. Her effort paid off well in quick success and just before the war the NINA RICCI firm occupied 11 floors and its workshops were filled with 450 workers. Madame Ricci had a flair for highlighting the personality of her clients, resulting in very becoming dresses. She always favoured femininity over trends and elegance over dare. Ricci tried her hand in perfume making with the iconic spicy floralL’air du Temps, a fantasia of delicate undertones and tender warmth encased in the gorgeous Lalique bottle with the pair of doves on the stopper, that has been worn by our dearest and nearest for years. It managed to inspire numerous mysterious florals, Fijdi and Anais Anais being two of those and it became a bestseller in many countries, managing to sell one bottle every 3 minutes somewhere around the world! Alas, it has been so tampered with in its present version, as to render whiffs of it disappointing, failing to bring back the images of those loving female figures in our lives. A pity… Farouche and Coeur Joieare another two legendary Nina Ricci perfumes that remain in the confines of the vast vault of on-line auction shopping...
Robert Ricci , however, Nina’s son, created or rather art-directed the original NINA perfume, a powdery floral with fruits and woodsy, green notes in homage to his late mother in 1987. Very recent in perfume terms... The experiment was very successful artistically, however the business end was not met satisfactorily, resulting in a semi-retirement of the old version, which is not available anymore.
The new Nina bears absolutely no resemblance to the older one, but the identical name surely causes trouble to the consumer and confuses those who like to order things on the phone or on-line. To compare modern and vintage Nina, whereas the old version was an affair of traditional elegance with a rich sparkle of aldehydes in the opening and a green chypre accord that was quite popular in the 1980’s ( if one considers the success of Diva by Ungaro), the new one is very different: The overall effect of the older version was delicately powdery and it smelled the way all perfumes smell in a young child’s mind: sophisticated, fabricated, not found in nature. It used costly ingredients that managed to evolve and mingle with one another in trails of white light. The modern Nina is predictably a fruity floral with a gourmand touch. It opens on a very pleasing initial note of hesperidic crisp fruits that cascade off the bottle in rapid succession: lemon, bergamot, mandarin and especially lime"Caipirinha" (its approximation in non alcoholic form at least). The effect is sharp and surprisingly uplifting, like that of another pleasing fruity floral: Gucci Eau de parfum II(the lilac-pink juice in the heavy crystal lid square bottle), minus the berries. The heart accord of red toffee apple with moonflower (an abnormality of nature, a new breed after a tornado at the Mohave desert, from what I recall from The Body Shop version) and peony is nicely balanced, quite sweet for comfort though, with a little vanillic veil that heralds the base of white cedar and cotton musk. That last ingredient alludes to lab work that produces the bulk of synthetic musks today. It manages to smell soft and enveloping, with an average tenacity on the skin, although on the blotter the candy and cedarwood effect are what remains mostly after the more effervescent notes have vanished. The drydown is vaguely reminiscent of the base of Mugler’s Innocent , a perfume variant on the Angel recipe without the patchouli, more orientalised/gourmand than Nina, surely, but with the same praline afterthought; of the two I vastly prefer the Mugler iteration.
Overall, it will disappoint those who expected something similar to the older version, and get the spirits up of those who love the fruity floral semi-gourmand recipe, although I can’t bring myself to say I love it and the genre has overstayed its welcome for faaaaar too long. The bottle however is another story…
The modern Nina is available in eau de parfum at major department stores. The advertising commercial includes the late Russian model Ruslana Korshunova.
Ma Dame, a spoof on the French word "Madame" which could be translated as "my lady" is Gaultier's latest feminine fragrance. A fresh floral blend of rose, sour orange, grenadine, musk and cedar Ma Dame aims to distill the essence of a modern-day garçonne, or "Une fille au masculin, un garçon au féminin" (a masculine girl, a feminine boy) like the song goes. “Ma Dame is not a Madame,” declared the designer (in the sense of a brothel-keeper or bourgeois lady). He puts the emphasis on the "ma" more than the "dame" part. “She is my muse. She amuses me.” (quote via the Moodie Report). I like word-plays. I like that he used a word-play to explain one, too!
Gaultier also explained he loves the bright pink of highlighters and attempted thus to bottle the imagined "scent" of one of his favourite shades. “It’s almost electric,” Gaultier says to Elle magazine. “The perfect color to make into a fragrance.“ Liking the highlighting almost fuschia shade is nothing ground-breaking, as press releases would like you to think; so do I, as I use it to highlight much more "agressive" art listings that depict ancient warriors and cthonian deities and my tastes run a more conservative gamut than dear Jean Paul's. “I didn’t fit in well with the kids in school,” Gaultier continues the confession to Elle. “While the other boys were playing sports, I was busy sketching!” At this point I am beginning to think that Gaultier and I share some degrees of Kevin Bacon! (something that would have my father in stiches)
The commercial for Ma Dame directed by Jean Baptist Mondino has supermodel du jour Agyness Deyn (also seen in Burberry The Beat commercials) literally tearing up the scene, snipping a long platinum wig, ripping off her sleeves, cutting her pant legs with a scissor (an allusion to the ripping that needs to be done in order to access the bottle inside the carton), all the while dancing to the beat of dj.Miss Kittin ~in a remix of "3rd Sex" by French group Indochine. She ends this on the sweet side with a kiss on the cheek of Gaultier himself. Supposedly the aim of Ma Dame is to shed the cumbersome ideals of femininity for a rebellious, modern, cutting-edge interpretation. The French catch phrase is: ‘Interdit aux dames’ (NOT for ladies), but they changed it to “For the woman who is unique, unconventional, different” in English. Tag anything with a prohibition and you create intrigue. The rectangular bottle that features in its heart the torso bottle of Gaultier's best-selling Classique (by perfumer Jacques Cavallier) set in relief gives the game away though: we're far off the land of controversy or rebeliousness and the only thing that is ambivalent about this fragrance is the decision quota of its intended clientelle. Seeing the street credence of punky (but perfectly angelically-featured) Agyness Deyn makes one think they're buying into a slice of the wild side and the brand is obviously aware of the public being in the know about Gaultier's edgy reputation (how ironic that it is his jackets cut with scalpel-precision that are the best hidden thing about his line)
Sniffing or spraying Ma Dame is a violent surprise at first: an intense, eye-searing blast of citrusy sweet shampoo latheriness jolts you like the lightsabers used in Star Wars, this time hued Bright Fuschia for the person who teeters between Luke Skywalker and Prince Leia (this is the 00s!). The shade and feel has been described as "lurid pink" by Mrs.Veneering on POL and I couldn't find a more perfect description. The composition by talented, almost in-house* nose Francis Kurkdjian (from the Takasago team) revisits the canned peach-candy orange-pink lotus in hysterics of Classique smothered in vats of vanillic powder and a prolonged white musk drydown that is anodyne more than androgyne; in fact the more they dry-down the more they're indistinguishable to me. Thankfully Ma Dame is not cloying like Classique can be, mostly thanks to a very fresh treatment of alleged cedar which veers on aquatic: it's utterly synthetic-smelling and sanitised like being dressed in futuristic tinfoil which is a new direction that Gaultier ommited to include in his amazingly wonderful costumes for the "Fifth Element". Ma Dame is mischievous and diabolical enough in that it will make you wonder whether this is good or bad which I hope reveals humour behind its creation. To take you out of the dilemma I have one admission to make: it's nothing I would wear myself. Consider yourselves accordingly advised.
Nota bene the creative prowess behind the bottle design: the transparent spray mechanism is invisible!
Official notes for Ma Dame Top: Orange Zest, Grenadine Heart: Fresh Rose velvet, floral Notes Base: Cedar, Musk
Available at major department stores since September, 50ml/1.7oz for $95 of Eau de toilette (also available at 100ml/3.4oz). Matching body products as well.
*taking into consideration he's responsible for Gaultier's Fragile, Gaultier 2, Le Male and Fleur du Male.
Pic of Agyness Deyn and Jean Paul Gaultier via zimbio.com Pic of bottle via Vogue.com
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