Untold Elizabeth Arden 2013
6
Helpful Review
Bizarre
UNTOLD by Elizabeth Arden
Opens on me with a raucous blast of sweetened dessert pears floating in a viscous corn syrup broth sprinkled with a tad of rosy pink pepper, a dusting of bergamot, and a hint of acidly urinous cassis.
To this is added a central white floral core of weighty jasmine/gardenia that is surprisingly non-indolic, but unfortunately, also very inelegant, ungainly, and ponderous. The white floral accord here is bizarre in that it lacks all ethereal beauty, strength, and headiness in spite of the lack of indoles.
An unpleasant whiff of harsh peony does not smooth the rough edges and rather serves to underscore them along with the cassis. The dry down proceeds to descend into a quagmire of thin and non-herbal, and sickly patchouli, a lackluster musk which wouldn't even pass muster as a sedate skin scent, a nondescript amber that does nothing but add to the general cloying staleness of the mix, and finally an anemic sandalwood accord that only serves to anchor the dessert without adding anything really woody.
Everything that could possibly be a negative in the accords manifests on my skin with this one. Even the reformulated 5th Avenue, which is a pale shadow of its former glory is light years ahead of this one in terms of basic compositional white floral balance, headiness, and beauty.
Those that enjoy fresh scents will probably wrinkle their noses as I did at the unattractive lack of transparency in the florals and everything else here. Those that love the ultra-rich and dark resinous musk blends will most likely shrug their shoulders indifferently at this one. You might like it if you want an opaquely sweet floral without aldehydes. I can’t call it a gourmand either so it doesn’t really fit for the food-lovers either.
A very strange smell this one is on me. Oh well, a learning experience. C’est la vie.
Opens on me with a raucous blast of sweetened dessert pears floating in a viscous corn syrup broth sprinkled with a tad of rosy pink pepper, a dusting of bergamot, and a hint of acidly urinous cassis.
To this is added a central white floral core of weighty jasmine/gardenia that is surprisingly non-indolic, but unfortunately, also very inelegant, ungainly, and ponderous. The white floral accord here is bizarre in that it lacks all ethereal beauty, strength, and headiness in spite of the lack of indoles.
An unpleasant whiff of harsh peony does not smooth the rough edges and rather serves to underscore them along with the cassis. The dry down proceeds to descend into a quagmire of thin and non-herbal, and sickly patchouli, a lackluster musk which wouldn't even pass muster as a sedate skin scent, a nondescript amber that does nothing but add to the general cloying staleness of the mix, and finally an anemic sandalwood accord that only serves to anchor the dessert without adding anything really woody.
Everything that could possibly be a negative in the accords manifests on my skin with this one. Even the reformulated 5th Avenue, which is a pale shadow of its former glory is light years ahead of this one in terms of basic compositional white floral balance, headiness, and beauty.
Those that enjoy fresh scents will probably wrinkle their noses as I did at the unattractive lack of transparency in the florals and everything else here. Those that love the ultra-rich and dark resinous musk blends will most likely shrug their shoulders indifferently at this one. You might like it if you want an opaquely sweet floral without aldehydes. I can’t call it a gourmand either so it doesn’t really fit for the food-lovers either.
A very strange smell this one is on me. Oh well, a learning experience. C’est la vie.
2 Comments
FloraMilena 12 years ago
LOL Greysolon! Tarragon, Sweet Vanilla, and Caramel....sounds like an unsuccessful fruit salad. LOL
ExUser 12 years ago
Your first paragraph pretty well sums up bizarre... sounds like a review I'm working on for Lolita Lempicka Au Masculin. Did you know tarragon and sweet vanilla, caramel don't go together very well?