2 stars: 62 posts

So Nude is the latest fragrance from Costume National, the design house that previously issued the popular Scent, Scent Intense, Scent Gloss, and 21.  So Nude is authored by none other than Dominique Ropion, creator for the epic Frédéric Malle Carnal Flower.  Since both So Nude and Carnal Flower trade heavily on tuberose, I was curious to see how Ropion would interpret this white-floral note for Costume National.

According to marketing copy, So Nude has quite a big mission ahead of it.  The model in the black-and-white ad is topless and has an almost confrontational gaze.  The marketing copy explains:  “The name of this new opus expresses quintessence, transparency and contours taken to their zenith, an absolute femininity. Infinitely passionate, the fragrance represents a woman who embodies total justness.”  An interesting use of the word “justness,” and I sort of wish they had said “righteousness” instead, but I’ll let it slide.  The copy goes on to say this woman is, “A modern icon, her allure is so timeless, so feminine, so natural, so chic…so nude. Nude is she, today and forever… timeless, direct, true. Her elegance and grace come from the inside.”

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The idea of a love potion can be traced back to antiquity, and excavations at Roman and Greek sites reveal various artifacts that were used to charm, sway and spellbind. Today we still yearn for a potion that would make us more beautiful, more alluring. So, Dsquared2, a fashion house often described as having “va-va-voom sex appeal,” decided to cater to our ‘earnings’ and offer its own version of a love filter. Potion for Woman is the feminine counterpart to last year’s Potion for Men, and is described as seductive and sultry.

The disconnect between the promise and the execution is evident in the crass marketing image. Who on earth decided that this visual conveys anything sexy or alluring? When I’m not distracted by the hairy arm in the foreground, I’m baffled by the drunken look on the model’s face. She looks more like a victim than a temptress.

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After months of media buzz, Lady Gaga Fame has finally been launched.  You probably know by now how this celebrity perfume thing works.  Some celebrities—like Sarah Jessica Parker—get down and dirty in the design process, vetting the concept, going through the mods, arguing for dirtier musk, losing argument for dirtier musk, announcing that next time things are going to be different.  Then there are those under whose noses you presume a scent strip has passed, but who have not attended that endless cycle of developmental-phase meetings.

Lady Gaga appears to be of the assertive former type.  Early reports had it that the singer wanted her perfume to be based on blood and semen.  These notes, which might seem shockingly brave, are not new: Etat Libre d’Orange has already done both in Sécrétions Magnifiques.  But as happened with Parker’s dirtier musk, these notes didn’t make the final cut.  Instead, Fame, billed as “the first ever black eau de parfum,” contains “pulverized apricot, crushed heart of Tiger Orchidea, and tears of belladonna.”

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I love Amouage, a unique perfume house that has created some of the best fragrances in the niche category. Amouage Gold is not just a grand parfum, it’s one of the best perfume symphonies.  The Jubilation duet blends wistful loveliness with edgy glamour. Wearing both Lyric perfumes, I finally grasp how it is that ‘bold and dramatic’ can also be ‘elegant and suave.’  Homage Attar transforms the lavish Middle Eastern oud and rose idea into a wearable but nevertheless sumptuous variation. Interlude, on the other hand, leaves me cold.

The fragrance opens with a sharp green, leafy note that smells at once like paint thinner and lawn clippings. It’s a bold move to overdose a fragrance with this rough and raspy note, and for a while it keeps my interest. After all, the diesel fumes that crown the top of Serge Lutens Tubéreuse Criminelle are similarly hard on the nose, but it feels like a natural part of the tuberose in the composition. Here, the green notes layered over the woods and incense feel jarring.

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Take Thierry Mugler Angel and dilute it with sheer, lemony jasmine till all you have left are the pastel colored outlines of the original gourmand patchouli. Shake it up, label Yves Saint Laurent, and you have Manifesto! I complained that Lancôme La Vie Est Belle is unexciting, but next to Manifesto it’s downright avant-garde.

My qualm with Manifesto is not that it’s a bad perfume, but that it doesn’t have much character. Smell it once, smell it ten times, I guarantee that you won’t remember it. Of course, not every single fragrance needs to make a statement–mild, unobtrusive blends do have their place, but Manifesto could be inside any bottle: the latest celebrity launch, Escada, Calvin Klein, Coty, Avon or even Bath and Body Works. It’s not entirely clear what makes this perfume Yves Saint Laurent. It doesn’t have the bravura of Opium nor the voluptuous beauty of Paris. It lacks the sensuality of Cinéma or the moodiness of Nu. It smells trendy, like a scent you’ve noticed  many times before at the mall or inside a crowded subway car–a cotton candy laced patchouli, with a soft blur of flowers.

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