Anaïs Anaïs L'Original Cacharel 2014 Eau de Toilette

There are some notes in perfumery that, due to sharing molecules with others, are prone to unflattering associations. Lilies and jasmines, for example, draw fecal comparisons, while oud reminds many people of manure. Blackcurrant absolute has an unfortunate tendency to smell like 'cat pee', and I don't think I ever fully understood that comparison until I sprayed Anais Anais.

If I try very hard to think of lily of the valley and 90s-style white floral soap, I can just about wrench my mind away from the thought. And indeed, as the scent dries down, it feels less astringent, more floral— and then I catch an edge of greenery and my mind goes back to it. I think I even understand now why people dislike my beloved jasmine, because in this context it's wholly unappealing. The whole design and marketing campaign of this fragrance is, I believe, meant to put one in mind of a porcelain bathtub filled with attractive young ladies. Unfortunately, it reminds me of a significantly less enticing bathroom fixture.

Perhaps the original version (the real original, not 'L'Original' orignal) of this was better, perhaps this was a victim of reformulation. I don't know, but I don't like it.