Playing for Keeps: The Curious Case of Dior's Poison Girl

Perfume people love to diss a new release aimed at millennials, and this is what happened in part with Dior's Poison Girl when it first hit the counters. Outrage! Is it because quite a few perfume lovers are beyond the millennial age bracket? Or is it possibly because they consider their tastes evolved beyond the basic package promoted to millennials, aka super sweet fragrances that revolve around candy floss and synthetic berries molecules with a smattering of patchouli for good measure, making everything smell the same? I kinda feel the latter is more like it. And with good reason. And this is why I have to give it to Poison Girl. Because it doesn't quite do that. It does so much more and manages it without being either innovative or Art with a capital A. Damning with faint praise? Well, no, so read on please.

Dior decided to play their hand into making something new with Poison Girl, while at the same time featuring something old. Like the basic bride's mantra they're borrowing from both worlds in order to attain two necessary goals: lure in new customers, yet not alienate older customers at once either. Surprisingly the bet works and hit the jackpot! Poison Girl a year and a half after its official launch is selling very well indeed and also has the eau de toilette version to prove it.

But the real question is: Why does Poison Girl succeed where others fail?

The rest is on Fragrantica. Bottom line: Poison Girl succeeds where other flankers fail and there's a good reason for that. Take a read and see.

Dior Poison Girl (2016): fragrance review

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 Sensuelle got 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.