I almost reviewed Kerosene’s new Broken Theories alongside The Different Company’s Le 15 on Wednesday— they have little enough in common otherwise, but both scents went into my (imaginary) “incense box” just as soon as I smelled them. And the respective juices fit nicely into the (other imaginary) boxes you’d expect: Le 15 is smooth and sophisticated, and perfectly plausible as an anniversary fragrance of an established (and expensive) niche brand. Broken Theories is indie, and it’s not particularly smooth, and it’s about, well, broken theories, or existential dread, or garden-variety anxiety-induced insomnia, or somesuch…
Prada Candy ~ perfume review
This scent is more feminine and more excessive than past launches. It has an explosion of joie de vivre that is quite unique for us, and uses a lot more color…
Up until now, we have explored the more traditional and classic side of Prada, but the brand is much more than that.1
Prada Candy incarnates the new Prada woman: she’s daring, sensual, full of life and implosive. The perfume is named after this seductive and joyful girl who is running wild.
The first two statements about the new Prada Candy were made by representatives from Puig, the company that holds the fragrance license for Prada. The third is from the scent’s description at Neiman Marcus, which has exclusive rights on the fragrance (for the US, anyway) until October. If a seductive and joyful girl running wild — and flashing her hot pink undies, no less — doesn’t sound like the Prada that perfumistas know and love, hey, the times they are a-‘changin, and you probably already guessed that from the name and the packaging and the advertising, all of which is a departure from the muted elegance the perfume house has long been known for.
So I figured I’d detest Prada Candy, but I was pleasantly surprised. They stuck with perfumer Daniela Andrier, who developed most of the Prada fragrance line, and she’s done something that might reasonably be called Candy without being a complete pander-to-the-masses sellout. In fact, while I don’t adore Candy, and it isn’t going straight onto my buy list, I enjoyed wearing it considerably more than the last two feminine efforts from Prada…
Cartier Le Baiser du Dragon ~ fragrance review
You know how there are people in your life that you can’t really say you like — oh, maybe you did at one time, but not so much now — but you appreciate them? Maybe a person you otherwise had nothing in common with helped you out by incidentally imparting wisdom just when you needed it. Or you learned by example how not to do something. You don’t really care to spend time with these people, but you’re happy for what they’ve contributed to your life. This is how I feel about Cartier Le Baiser du Dragon.
When I first encountered Le Baiser du Dragon, I fell madly in love with it and bought first the Eau de Parfum and then the Parfum. Now it feels to me like an itchy fur coat on an August day — it swelters me. In the meantime, Le Baiser du Dragon taught me to avoid fragrances that overwhelm rather than enhance who I am, and it trained me to pay more attention to nuance. It also showed me that I adore a good patchouli. For these reasons, Le Baiser du Dragon is like an ex-husband that I meet on the street and am surprised that we ever had a life together. At the same time, I wouldn’t be who I am without him.
Alberto Morillas created Le Baiser du Dragon for Cartier in 2003. Morillas knows how to put together both blockbusters (Kenzo Flower and Estée Lauder Pleasures) and rule breakers (Yves Saint Laurent M7 and S-Perfume Lust), and I can imagine Cartier eagerly handing him photos of their vaguely deco, Chinese-inspired line of Le Baiser du Dragon jewelry and asking him to make a perfume that reflected its aesthetic…