Dolce Eau de Parfum by Dolce & Gabbana: fragrance review

One could be excused for getting all dreamy eyed and nostalgic à la Nuovo Cinema Paradiso upon watching the latest commercial by Dolce & Gabbana for their feminine fragrance launch, Dolce eau de parfum. They could be excused for erupting in twirly pirouettes filled with longing at the sight of the super pretty bottle, its flower cap, its grosgrain bow, its retro typeface. But what one can't possibly excuse is getting worked up over the fragrance of Dolce by Dolce & Gabbana itself, because, frankly, it's so programmatically "not"-so-many-things that it gets very hard to describe it.

It's not really floral, despite the ad copy and the images of orange groves in full bloom. Not indolic-smelling, which comes hand in hand with white flower fragrances. Not woody either. Nor citrusy. Not particularly feminine if your notion of femininity is not terribly challenged by a particular philosophic system of which I am not accountable for. Not anything special in the fresh fragrance slot. Not distinctive, not unique by any stretch of the imagination. Not offensive either, but that's damning it with faint praise.

"Neroli leaves" (come again?), papaya flower, white amaryllis, narcissus, white water lily, sandalwood. Where are all these things?

A clean, lightly aqueous neroli scent with a faint musky underpinning that won't get you noticed even if your life depended on it, Dolce eau de parfum projects "meh-shampoo" in a me-too-pool of similar scents for women afraid to use fragrance with any conviction. It could just be the perfect culmination of a product that looks like a perfume but doesn't perform like one for our crazy times. Even if destined to the very young or the very inexperienced, there is nothing in Dolce eau de parfum of the flush of daring and defiance that a truant teenager might indulge into, swiftly exchanging her smart pants and sweater for a cut off blouse and heels in secret at the ante-room of her house to go out with the hip crowd of her school. It's also so faint for an eau de parfum to make one seriously doubt their nose. If this gets released in eau de toilette there will be someone doing a cartoonish, evil laugh all the way to the bank, because they might as well be selling plain water for all the dilution.

So why am I even bothering to review it, you ask?

Simple. It's the first original release by the Italian brand that is not a flanker or re-issue in what feels like eons. I'm susceptible. I love Italian style.

Additionally, I can be excused for feeling a pang of what Swedes call 'smultronställe' , literally a wild strawberry patch, but figuratively a sentimentally laden spot returned to for solace, an escape from sadness.  Sicily is Dolce & Gabbana's spot. My own smultronställe has been orange groves in full bloom from my childhood like the ones shown in the romantic commercial for Dolce eau de parfum. I might be excused for seeking them into a bottle of fragrance advertised with exactly those images in neorealist style and nostalgic color saturation…

A really wasted chance, if you ask me. Bring back Sicily. 

Andree Putman Preparation Parfumee: fragrance review

Andrée Putman's fragrance is not easy to review, exactly because it eschews traditional classification, much like the acclaimed designer opted to for her work as well. From home interiors to furniture to tableware, her work is sans pareil. It was only natural that her eponymous fragrance would be too; an aqueous woody with a different feeling of freshness than the screechy scratch of "marines", at a time of launch (2001) a mini revolution. Doubly so if one considers for a moment that it was she who was responsible for the renovation of the flagship Guerlain boutique at Champs-Elysées in 2005, replete with the luminous chandeliers which refract light in a million rays. Her eponymous perfume bears absolutely no relation with a classic Guerlain!

via habituallychic.blogspot.com

Damp woods are harmoniously paired to spices and refined notes reminiscent of dewy stems and petals in Preparation Parfumée; more of a protective amulet than a potion of seduction, as evidenced by the name too (i.e. scented preparation) The Andrée Putman fragrance was composed by Olivia Giacobetti, a perfumer known for her transparent, limpid accords and her quirky, individual style ~as showcased in Premier Figuier (1994), Drôle de Rose (1995), Thé Pour Un Eté (1996), Philosykos (1996), L’Eau du Fleuriste (1997), Navegar (1998), Dzing! (1999), Passage d'Enfer (1999), Hiris (1999), Tea for Two (2000), Essence of John Galliano, En Passant (2000) or Thé des Sables (2001). The building up to Preparation Parfumée Andrée Putman (2001) bears olfactory kinship with another perfume composed by Giacobetti, Navegar for L'Artisan Parfumeur, a scent of blanched pebbles and driftwood on a river's delta. No wonder that Putman OK-ed the austere and economical use of a few elements to convey a potent message; it was she who had famously said: "I love America, and I love American women. But there is one thing that deeply shocks me - American closets. I cannot believe one can dress well when you have so much."

Preparation Parfumée begins with a spicy top note that reminds me of bay leaves and their oil, although I know they are not listed, that slightly bittersweet & hot eugenol-rich spice that we use in lentils soup. The fragrance however is not heavy nor strong, never a singeing feeling. Then along with that a very aqueous accord follows retaining the earthy smell of petrichor for a long long time. It reminds me of wood branches washed on the shore of a river of gigantic proportions after a storm, drenched in mud and bog water. This earthy, elemental force is fundamental to its appeal. Rather than mountains and forests, due to lack of the resinous quality I associate with those, this image creates another kind of serenity.

Would that be a scent to dampen one's spirits though with all its damp wood and such? It depends….It’s not “pretty” for sure , neither “elegant” and "feminine" in the traditional sense, but it retains an air of mystery and nostalgic quality for those friendly to introspection.