When will it end?!
My mum's best friend has spent quite a lot of time recently cleaning out her sister-in-law's house - she passed away a couple of months ago. A pack rat and bargain-hunter, little items have been filtering through to us; expensive perfumes, like Amor Amor for Mum, Clinique facewash, Estée Lauder seaweed shower scrub, even cereal bars. Two more perfumes arrived today, which I shall review for Anni, as she was unhappy with my two-sentence sum-ups in Y!M. Thus...
Paris Hilton: Heiress (Stupid Spoiled Whore Paris Hilton)
Mum handed me the box without a word. It's black, with an artsy picture of her on it, wonderfully photoshopped and with cleavage she doesn't have (not that I'm one to judge). We gave each other the "good God" look, and I set about opening it. Surprise surprise, the inside is pink. Worse still, while the tall bottle is quite attractive, one side is lined with that hideous 'futuristic' glittery cardboard. Huh. That just screams class.
As usual, I had no clue what had gone into the perfume. I sprayed it with a box of baby wipes next to me, just in case. Admittedly, Paris herself has fuck all to do with the perfume, but all the same, it's very hard to get rid of the idea that she's connected to it. I'd never have tried so much as a sample, but this was a gift, and well - you have to at least try gifts.
The immediate hit was a sugary fruit cocktail. Very fresh, far too sweet, and all... sparkly and fun, like something a fourteen year old me would have worn to the little local disco. Largely inoffensive but not precisely something anybody over the age of fourteen would willingly wear.
The drydown revealed a completely different scent, which is fortunate in this case. First came the florals - another random jumble with no particular notes - which stamped out some of the childishness. Another minute or two later, and a strong musk came out, softened by the leftover fruit and some sweet notes, like vanilla or tonka. Nothing really dominates the scent, something I allegedly prefer, so while it was largely inoffensive, the little cocktail didn't really wow me. It still errs on the sweet side, but the musk was a good touch. All the same, there's not much depth despite all the notes.
A phrase that matches the real heiress quite well, actually.
It would probably make an okay stand-in for mundane summer activities, if my little bottle of Insolence runs out, but - in my first semi-agreement with my darling frag hag friend - if this Frankenstein's monster were to be whisked off the shelves, I doubt anyone would shed a tear.
Secret Obsession (Calvin Klein)
This box screamed class. It's massive, for a start, with one of those magnetic strips that means you unfold it, with dark gold on the outside and gold everywhere inside. The smoky little bottle entranced my mother, but I just found it odd. It looks like a cross between a genie's bottle and a UFO. I wasn't sure whether it was going to offer me three wishes or tell me that it comes in peace.
I vaguely remember the infamous Obsession, which my sister experimented with before moving to Davidoff's Cool Water, a scent I literally cannot stand. While my memory is not one to be relied upon too heavily, I maintain that this is nothing like its parent perfume.
The initial scent is... weird. Actually, the scent as a whole is weird, and quite unlike anything my adventurous nose has dealt with before, at least not from a women's fragrance. I guess it's sort of fruity, but nothing like fruit I could compare it to; it's really spiced and heavy, not sparkling and childish like most fruit scents.
The drydown goes nuts with its unconventional attack, too. Anything fruity completely disappears - at least, on my skin - and there's... well, there's musk, and wood, and probably a few florals but on me, the overall effect smells almost exactly like leather. Now, I love me some leather (I'm upset with summer because I can't wear my leather jacket, that's just not faaair) but I'm not entirely sure why somebody would want to smell like it.
There's something sweet in it, even at this late stage, but it's very minor, more of an extra in a huge ensemble cast. I can tell it's a complicated scent, and I'd certainly like to smell it on someone else's skin - my mother's currently going through Amor Amor with her beloved Anais Anais in reserve, so wouldn't try this - but, well. Calvin Klein is famed for its dark, gender-ambiguous scents, and Annie tells me this is one of the more feminine outings. It may well be - in fact, it's quite likely to be - my skin, but it smells more like some of my brother's deodorants than anything else. There's a note of coconut - I think this is more the result of a scent mixture than an actual ingredient - that lifts it slightly, but the leather, woods and musk just scream masculinity.
This is something I could see myself wearing at night in a few years' time; probably a wintry night, as this is ridiculously spicy and warm, and would just asphixiate us all on a summer's evening. Until then, it can sit in its aircraft hangar box and lord it over our collective perfumes, secure in the knowledge that it's the most expensive perfume to cross the threshold.
Anni, I'll get my mitts on my sister's Alexander McQueen and other miscellaneous perfumes and continue to entertain you on this subject. I think it's sadistic on both our parts, but at least it gives you something to argue with me about ;3 *Snuggles*
Paris Hilton: Heiress (Stupid Spoiled Whore Paris Hilton)
Mum handed me the box without a word. It's black, with an artsy picture of her on it, wonderfully photoshopped and with cleavage she doesn't have (not that I'm one to judge). We gave each other the "good God" look, and I set about opening it. Surprise surprise, the inside is pink. Worse still, while the tall bottle is quite attractive, one side is lined with that hideous 'futuristic' glittery cardboard. Huh. That just screams class.
As usual, I had no clue what had gone into the perfume. I sprayed it with a box of baby wipes next to me, just in case. Admittedly, Paris herself has fuck all to do with the perfume, but all the same, it's very hard to get rid of the idea that she's connected to it. I'd never have tried so much as a sample, but this was a gift, and well - you have to at least try gifts.
The immediate hit was a sugary fruit cocktail. Very fresh, far too sweet, and all... sparkly and fun, like something a fourteen year old me would have worn to the little local disco. Largely inoffensive but not precisely something anybody over the age of fourteen would willingly wear.
The drydown revealed a completely different scent, which is fortunate in this case. First came the florals - another random jumble with no particular notes - which stamped out some of the childishness. Another minute or two later, and a strong musk came out, softened by the leftover fruit and some sweet notes, like vanilla or tonka. Nothing really dominates the scent, something I allegedly prefer, so while it was largely inoffensive, the little cocktail didn't really wow me. It still errs on the sweet side, but the musk was a good touch. All the same, there's not much depth despite all the notes.
A phrase that matches the real heiress quite well, actually.
It would probably make an okay stand-in for mundane summer activities, if my little bottle of Insolence runs out, but - in my first semi-agreement with my darling frag hag friend - if this Frankenstein's monster were to be whisked off the shelves, I doubt anyone would shed a tear.
Secret Obsession (Calvin Klein)
This box screamed class. It's massive, for a start, with one of those magnetic strips that means you unfold it, with dark gold on the outside and gold everywhere inside. The smoky little bottle entranced my mother, but I just found it odd. It looks like a cross between a genie's bottle and a UFO. I wasn't sure whether it was going to offer me three wishes or tell me that it comes in peace.
I vaguely remember the infamous Obsession, which my sister experimented with before moving to Davidoff's Cool Water, a scent I literally cannot stand. While my memory is not one to be relied upon too heavily, I maintain that this is nothing like its parent perfume.
The initial scent is... weird. Actually, the scent as a whole is weird, and quite unlike anything my adventurous nose has dealt with before, at least not from a women's fragrance. I guess it's sort of fruity, but nothing like fruit I could compare it to; it's really spiced and heavy, not sparkling and childish like most fruit scents.
The drydown goes nuts with its unconventional attack, too. Anything fruity completely disappears - at least, on my skin - and there's... well, there's musk, and wood, and probably a few florals but on me, the overall effect smells almost exactly like leather. Now, I love me some leather (I'm upset with summer because I can't wear my leather jacket, that's just not faaair) but I'm not entirely sure why somebody would want to smell like it.
There's something sweet in it, even at this late stage, but it's very minor, more of an extra in a huge ensemble cast. I can tell it's a complicated scent, and I'd certainly like to smell it on someone else's skin - my mother's currently going through Amor Amor with her beloved Anais Anais in reserve, so wouldn't try this - but, well. Calvin Klein is famed for its dark, gender-ambiguous scents, and Annie tells me this is one of the more feminine outings. It may well be - in fact, it's quite likely to be - my skin, but it smells more like some of my brother's deodorants than anything else. There's a note of coconut - I think this is more the result of a scent mixture than an actual ingredient - that lifts it slightly, but the leather, woods and musk just scream masculinity.
This is something I could see myself wearing at night in a few years' time; probably a wintry night, as this is ridiculously spicy and warm, and would just asphixiate us all on a summer's evening. Until then, it can sit in its aircraft hangar box and lord it over our collective perfumes, secure in the knowledge that it's the most expensive perfume to cross the threshold.
Anni, I'll get my mitts on my sister's Alexander McQueen and other miscellaneous perfumes and continue to entertain you on this subject. I think it's sadistic on both our parts, but at least it gives you something to argue with me about ;3 *Snuggles*