007 for Women James Bond 007 2015

So far, the Bond fragrances have provided quite a bit of amusement. There are some very funny critiques to be found here, and of course, no great expectations accompany the entire line. It seems to be all about excessively milking the cash cow, what else could it be.
I was recently drawn to the women's fragrance by the actually appealing campaign. And the price made me skeptical, quite cheeky. Within a few weeks, it has already drastically dropped, which is not surprising.

The fragrance pyramid reads quite interestingly, especially the rose milk and black vanilla are enticing. It sounds like a killer combo when you add gardenia and jasmine; there could be some potential there. I also really like the bottle, shiny black, extravagant shape, it feels nice in the hand, and the spray head is pleasantly easy to press, spraying finely as well.

Unfortunately, that was already the positive part of my comment; anyone who really likes the fragrance or is determined to buy it may forgive me. And it’s best not to continue reading.

The opening is marked by a decent blast of alcohol, then moderately fresh, thinly fruity, and, in my opinion, careless.
At this point, it’s not really bad or unpleasant, just banal and unremarkable. No femme fatale in sight, nothing with intoxicating sensuality or even heart palpitations.
The rose milk soon reveals itself, in the form of artificial hand soap with a plastic-like rose aroma. And not even fresh and light, or clean like laundry detergent, but flat, musty, and compact. Uff, that’s no fun; the scent clings to the skin and wafts ominously. It feels stale and dull to me, and it reminds me of another fragrance, but unfortunately, I can’t quite recall which one it could be. There’s also a strange vanilla mixing in the background. (I vaguely remember that it was a fragrance by Katy Perry, where I also noticed a stale vanilla muffin)

If you were to rub the fragrance between your fingertips and pull them apart, I wouldn’t be surprised if it would stretch like hot glue. The sillage is bombastic at the heart. My poor girlfriend is already complaining heavily; a passenger can be quite critical when the driver is bombarded with such scent bombs.
Gardenia and jasmine form a strong, voluminous duo, unfortunately not flattering, but very intrusive and penetrating, underlined by cookie-like, fibrous vanilla, slathered with blackberry syrup, powerfully chemical; I can’t imagine that this is very appealing to the strong sex.
This slightly milky and creamy component, which flashes up now and then throughout, I find beautiful and extremely feminine. Unfortunately, it only lasts for fleeting seconds; soon, the airy interlude is ruthlessly flattened by the monstrous flowers. Pepper at least adds an interesting sharpness, which could be attractive in combination with vanilla; unfortunately, it leans too little towards gourmand and feels very underdeveloped and one-dimensional to me.
The cedarwood gives the fragrance a soft, powdery note, minimally woody, somewhat tactile, but there could be more extracted from it as well. Musk serves mainly as a fixative and only weakly nudges the fragrance towards "seductive."

Overall, the fragrance feels chaotic, uneven, and unbalanced to me. There is a progression, but nothing here is smooth or desirable. No tension builds up; the fragrance does not cloud the senses at all, and hot daydreams do not want to set in. No seduction here, rather a snooze-inducing scent narcosis.
However, the volume has been cranked up significantly; the sillage is enveloping and fills the room, with a longevity of about eight hours, and you don’t have to spray excessively. It’s a shame; I now quite like roses, and I don’t mind any soapiness, but here the martini is brutally shaken into a frothy mess. One almost gets a soapy taste on the tongue.
The flowers would also shine more beautifully if it weren’t for this floury vanilla being the counterpoint; the beloved cedarwood and the otherwise fluffy musk can’t do much about it.

The most important thing about a perfume or a dress should always be the woman wearing it. And both should always be a tribute to the wearer, which I cannot say here with a clear conscience. I find it quite cheeky what has been concocted and sold at a horrendous price, for which target group, actually?
For very young girls, it’s somehow too heavy, dull, and musty; it does come across as subtly oriental, but it lacks any cheeky, bouncy, erotic, and feminine qualities. For women in their mid-twenties, it’s also not really suitable; I miss any twist, and the older and more experienced one gets, the more spoiled one becomes. A riddle; in this direction, the fragrance is indeed confusing, but unfortunately, the speed of the eternally thumping inner engine does not increase.

Uninspired and off-topic, or my skin chemistry just wants to play tricks on me; in any case, I’m not warming up to the fragrance, and to be honest, I’m creeped out by the thought of wearing it again.
If I have offended or hurt anyone, I apologize. Perception is, after all, subjective.

You definitely earn the license to kill while wearing it; it knocks out the strongest guy ;)