Scandal by Night Jean Paul Gaultier 2018
14
Top Review
Persiko, Apfelkorn - and then: scandal by night.
Man and woman Parfumista might wonder, what do these terrible, taste-bud-offending alcoholic drinks and a perfume have in common that they stand side by side in a title?
The answer lies in my individual reaction: Of all three numbing impositions, I felt nauseous.
So --- for those who find this - admittedly pointed - summary sufficient, you may stop reading here and retreat with an "oh, what a pity" or "I knew it" to beloved scents or positive olfactory surprises.
For those who hesitate, here is my experience with this new (really?) fragrance from JPG in more detail:
I was careless enough to open my sample on a Saturday evening and quickly apply it to my wrist.
At that moment, the scale read: xxx kilograms.
Immediately, sweet scent notes conquered my nose and for tenths of a second, the prevailing olfactory impression was: floral-sweet. So far - so predictable.
But instead of a delicate floral dream, the obviously aggressively formulated scent molecules added up to a syrupy, honey-laden scent carpet, well, let’s say - coating, which had nothing to offer besides an enormous intensity of great penetration: As with Scandal, one searches in vain for tuberose and patchouli, at least notes that deserve those names.
But I wanted to wait and see how the scent would develop. Perhaps it just needs a chance, some time to connect with the skin and reveal its true character? Unfortunately, SBN rather revealed a commercial character: All cards already played, even bubblegum smells more differentiated. With each passing minute, I felt increasingly that I had eaten far too many honey buns, many, many, many heavy honey buns with cheap industrial sugar honey stuff.
A glance at the scale confirmed: xxx kilos plus 3! Within just 10 minutes! I had to act!
So to the sink, where water and fine olive soap should put an end to the sweet overkill that was already threatening to glue my brain: Everything appeared to me tinged with honey-colored yellow. Yikes.
Back at my workspace, I opened the windows and let out into the night what remained of the scandalously overdriven mono-scent still clinging to the precious oxygen elements. Now the nuisance should come to an end, I thought, and sat down. Instead, a sweetish cloud wafted through the room again and reached for me. A sniff test on my wrist confirmed:
At least the longevity is (unfortunately) above average good.
The answer lies in my individual reaction: Of all three numbing impositions, I felt nauseous.
So --- for those who find this - admittedly pointed - summary sufficient, you may stop reading here and retreat with an "oh, what a pity" or "I knew it" to beloved scents or positive olfactory surprises.
For those who hesitate, here is my experience with this new (really?) fragrance from JPG in more detail:
I was careless enough to open my sample on a Saturday evening and quickly apply it to my wrist.
At that moment, the scale read: xxx kilograms.
Immediately, sweet scent notes conquered my nose and for tenths of a second, the prevailing olfactory impression was: floral-sweet. So far - so predictable.
But instead of a delicate floral dream, the obviously aggressively formulated scent molecules added up to a syrupy, honey-laden scent carpet, well, let’s say - coating, which had nothing to offer besides an enormous intensity of great penetration: As with Scandal, one searches in vain for tuberose and patchouli, at least notes that deserve those names.
But I wanted to wait and see how the scent would develop. Perhaps it just needs a chance, some time to connect with the skin and reveal its true character? Unfortunately, SBN rather revealed a commercial character: All cards already played, even bubblegum smells more differentiated. With each passing minute, I felt increasingly that I had eaten far too many honey buns, many, many, many heavy honey buns with cheap industrial sugar honey stuff.
A glance at the scale confirmed: xxx kilos plus 3! Within just 10 minutes! I had to act!
So to the sink, where water and fine olive soap should put an end to the sweet overkill that was already threatening to glue my brain: Everything appeared to me tinged with honey-colored yellow. Yikes.
Back at my workspace, I opened the windows and let out into the night what remained of the scandalously overdriven mono-scent still clinging to the precious oxygen elements. Now the nuisance should come to an end, I thought, and sat down. Instead, a sweetish cloud wafted through the room again and reached for me. A sniff test on my wrist confirmed:
At least the longevity is (unfortunately) above average good.
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4 Comments
@lilau: yeah, yeah, shame on me for expecting that - I don't have anything against sweet scents in principle... but this one really overwhelmed me.