2
Bold and artistic scent, though not for me personally
Female Christ's opening is a huge, romantic sweep of damp, earthy patchouli, vanilla, and flowers that makes me think I know where this is going, except that instead of chocolate, the lingering impression is that of high-roast coffee, mixed with heavy cream and rhubarb compote. It is heavy, aromatic, and fruitily sour, with the eucalyptus note providing a sharp greenness that might be camphor but might also just be crushed spearmint leaves. The effect is so blown out with the musky grey-whiteness of cashmeran that you get flashes of the notes rather than a clear picture.
Very quickly though, things start to fall apart and as soon as you start to make out the individual components, the overall effect is immediately less charming. The fruitiness of the rhubarb and the vague creaminess of the white flowers conspire to create an insistent tuberose note that dominates the entire mid-section of the scent. Rubbery, florid, and overblown, this is where Female Christ smells more like Café Tuberosa (Atelier Cologne) mixed with Tyger Tyger (Bianchi) and Fracas (Piguet) and less like a cool Danish art experiment.
Yet, the traditionally feminine and sweet-plasticky-fruity-floral layers of this fragrance are stretched over a framework of an extremely dusty, hoary patchouli (think Vierges et Toreros) that smells like the small cupboard under our stairs at home where our coats, old toys, unused files, and assorted knick knacks went to die, so you have the conventionally pretty uneasily mixed with something old-mannish and dusty. The vanilla is very sweet and blooms all over the drydown, but that too clashes with the sourness and air of neglect created by the aromatics and patchouli. Female Christ is appropriately confrontational. It gives me the originality I crave but not the cohesiveness of design I need to wear it on the regular. It is a good mile marker, however, on this patchouli journey I am on. It shows me where my hard stops are.
Very quickly though, things start to fall apart and as soon as you start to make out the individual components, the overall effect is immediately less charming. The fruitiness of the rhubarb and the vague creaminess of the white flowers conspire to create an insistent tuberose note that dominates the entire mid-section of the scent. Rubbery, florid, and overblown, this is where Female Christ smells more like Café Tuberosa (Atelier Cologne) mixed with Tyger Tyger (Bianchi) and Fracas (Piguet) and less like a cool Danish art experiment.
Yet, the traditionally feminine and sweet-plasticky-fruity-floral layers of this fragrance are stretched over a framework of an extremely dusty, hoary patchouli (think Vierges et Toreros) that smells like the small cupboard under our stairs at home where our coats, old toys, unused files, and assorted knick knacks went to die, so you have the conventionally pretty uneasily mixed with something old-mannish and dusty. The vanilla is very sweet and blooms all over the drydown, but that too clashes with the sourness and air of neglect created by the aromatics and patchouli. Female Christ is appropriately confrontational. It gives me the originality I crave but not the cohesiveness of design I need to wear it on the regular. It is a good mile marker, however, on this patchouli journey I am on. It shows me where my hard stops are.