12/19/2017

Anessa
39 Reviews

Anessa
Renamed: The Giant Peach and I
Sultane, whatever association the fancy shaped bottle and the cap (a turban and not an earless elephant) should convey, is about a huge Peach with a capital P. Unfortunately, it does not resemble the naturally sweet, delicious, and juicy kind as in the beginning of Acqua Colonia White Peach & Coriander, but rather the artificial and strangely shrill type that triggers my headaches within a few minutes, regardless of how often I would approach and retry with patience and an open mind. I suspect jasmine playing havoc here, teamed up with vanillin like in Yves Rocher's "Shafali Fleur Rare", another migraine-inducing fragrance.
To me, Sultane lacks balance as a perfume and would better fit as home fragrance. The peach, with the weight of musky sandalwood and sharp florals, dominates throughout the entire composition like Giant Peach that rolled over James' two greedy cruel aunts in Roald Dahl's children's classic; and I, too, feel being punished for anything I might have done, knocked over by this monstrous artificial fruit.
The watery opening with a brief resemblance to Iced Peach Tea are the only moments I feel 'safe' before Sultane quickly settles down in the vast ocean of buttery vanilla custard pudding. While this may sound like a delicious dessert for some people, to me means long lasting headaches right through the brain.
Due to its persistent nature, I absolutely cannot imagine Sultane in warmer weather. Even a light application on the wrists seemed too much: the loud peach kept hitting through my nostrils for the first couple of hours, like a spoiled, attention-seeking child. The strong projection calmed down after 2 hours but still kept wafting with every movement until I could not bear any longer and had to cover up with another fragrance which immediately stopped my migraine.
To anyone familiar with the popular "Âme Toscane" by ID Parfums (the original bottle in the shape of a naked woman torso without arms and legs, and a mysterious headpiece resembling a mop or static glass noodles), I could not detect any differences at all between these two fragrances, except for AT's characteristic oily-dusty iris edge adding a damp sultriness on top.
Only recommended to those who would not fear being punished by musky, vanillin-, and sweetener-sprinkled peaches wearing sandalwood stiletto (who would have thought peaches can be turned into weapons? See Roald Dahl...)
To me, Sultane lacks balance as a perfume and would better fit as home fragrance. The peach, with the weight of musky sandalwood and sharp florals, dominates throughout the entire composition like Giant Peach that rolled over James' two greedy cruel aunts in Roald Dahl's children's classic; and I, too, feel being punished for anything I might have done, knocked over by this monstrous artificial fruit.
The watery opening with a brief resemblance to Iced Peach Tea are the only moments I feel 'safe' before Sultane quickly settles down in the vast ocean of buttery vanilla custard pudding. While this may sound like a delicious dessert for some people, to me means long lasting headaches right through the brain.
Due to its persistent nature, I absolutely cannot imagine Sultane in warmer weather. Even a light application on the wrists seemed too much: the loud peach kept hitting through my nostrils for the first couple of hours, like a spoiled, attention-seeking child. The strong projection calmed down after 2 hours but still kept wafting with every movement until I could not bear any longer and had to cover up with another fragrance which immediately stopped my migraine.
To anyone familiar with the popular "Âme Toscane" by ID Parfums (the original bottle in the shape of a naked woman torso without arms and legs, and a mysterious headpiece resembling a mop or static glass noodles), I could not detect any differences at all between these two fragrances, except for AT's characteristic oily-dusty iris edge adding a damp sultriness on top.
Only recommended to those who would not fear being punished by musky, vanillin-, and sweetener-sprinkled peaches wearing sandalwood stiletto (who would have thought peaches can be turned into weapons? See Roald Dahl...)