Agent Provocateur surprised me. I suppose I forgot that it was a chypre. It is supposed to be an in-your-face scent of seduction. To me it smelled like money, which could be seductive . . . but instead of saying "come hither" to me it said "I am expensive and sleeping in crisp sheets at the
Chateau Marmont." Its dry down on my wrist was a pleasant woody musk. Chandler Burr, New York Times perfume critic, mentioned "black plums on hot skin," but I'm not feelin' it.AP's Maitresse began promisingly enough, sweet and musky, which I love, but it evolved ultimately into an overwhelming powderyness, which I associate with suffocating in an elevator when certain uber-coifed older ladies enter.
Fracas, thank goodness, did not disappoint. It is a tuberose so strong it knocks you off your feet - but it is exquisitely beautiful. Roja Dove, in The Independent, described it as smelling "like very, very hot flesh after you've had sex." Well. I think of tuberose as the scent that makes me say, "That - what is that? I've smelled that long ago in a garden after dark. I'm so happy to smell it again." I think I must own a bottle.And then I did some unplanned sniffing. While in Bloomingdale's I was handed a strip of John Varvatos. Ugh. Cloyingly sweet and way too much like a knock-off of Thierry Mugler's Angel - marshmallows and weirdness. I will never understand all the rage over Angel. I had to scrub it off my wrist after trying it on, kind of like I have to do now with Maitresse.
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