Monday, 29 March 2010
This curious creation by État Libre D'Orange is, according to many, a fresh, gentle, marine-like floral. Certainly, Turin and Sanchez's Perfume Guide awards it 5 stars and praises its originality. I'm reliably informed that it's a pretty good seller. But when I smell it, I feel as though I've been punched right to the pit of my stomach. Shockwaves of revulsion course through my body - all the way down my throat - and I immediately feel the urge to be sick. My brain rattles as the odd/unearthly/wrong metallic note rushes to the top of my head. Every inch of my body screams, "Run! Get this vile concoction away from yourself and run!"
I kid you not. No other perfume I know of - regardless of how unpleasant I consider it to be - has such a visceral effect on me. There are plenty of fragrances that I think are below-par in many ways, but they tend to elicit little more than a frown and a grimace. This one makes every inch of my insides hurl with digust and horror. And, sure enough, as I passed the tester strips amongst my work colleagues, some of them looked mortified and wanted to leave the room as soon as they could, whereas others smiled and said all they could smell was pretty, soft, white flowers.
It's a wonder any fragrance is ever a success!
[For an interesting little follow-up to this story, please click here.]