There are natural spectacles that I simply can't get enough of. Among them is, of course, the full moon. I find it most beautiful when I can observe it over the sea. I have been fortunate enough to experience it in all its glory over the Mediterranean several times. Huge and with its own silvery-gray light, it stands over the sea and reflects in it. Touchingly beautiful, mystical, fascinating, and at the same time somewhat frightening.
Some time ago, I happened to receive a sample of "Moon Dance" by Juliette Has A Gun, and the name and the associated associations sparked a bit of testing interest at most. This is probably due to the fact that the "normal" JHAG fragrances have not really impressed me. Not yet.
Of course, it didn't take long before a spray of "Moon Dance" landed on my skin. Without too many expectations.
"Moon Dance" starts with fresh bergamot. OK, that's not a surprise, as it's the case with many fragrances. However, the duration of the bergamot in this case is only a matter of seconds.
Immediately following are deep dark red rose and radiant tuberose with a hint of violet in tow. This may sound "flowery" and harmless, but it is in no way so.
Rose and tuberose compete with mature and full-bodied radiance, but there is no winner. Deep, dark, and in full bloom, they dominate the scene. The violet cleverly lays underneath and ensures that the floral dream does not turn into a sweet inferno and floral nightmare with its restrained and unsweetened powderiness.
Since the little violet cannot keep up with the rose-tuberose power alone for long, a portion of patchouli with very restrained sweetness but a good amount of spiciness joins in.
Apparently, that's all it takes, because from this point on, I have a "moonlight symphony" for the nose on my skin.
"Moon Dance" impresses with an incredible depth of scent that you really don't experience often. All the fragrance components seem to be fused together, forming a fragrant unity that has completely connected with my skin. With every movement, this spicy-powdery-floral trio of rose, tuberose, and patchouli rises to my nose. Enchantingly beautiful, mysterious, dark, mystical, and with a good dose of eroticism, it accompanies me in shades of red-violet for many hours. It envelops me, embraces me, clings closely to me, and takes full possession of me. "Moon Dance" is demanding and doesn't like to share; its motto is all or nothing.
Romano Ricci (great-grandson of Nina Ricci, as well as grandson of Robert Ricci, the perfumer who created bestsellers like L'Air du Temps for the Ricci house) has done a fantastic job here and created an absolutely extraordinary rose-tuberose fragrance. Even though "Moon Dance" is by no means a quiet scent, it still refrains from loud screaming. The often perceived unpleasant dominance and overacting of tuberose has been perfectly toned down by Romano Ricci, creating a tolerable, or rather worry-free, volume.
And although this fragrance appears very feminine due to its components, I still find it wearable by men as well.
The key (for both genders) lies solely in the dosage:
- One spray and every man will still be perceived as a man.
- One to two sprays emphasize the femininity of every woman.
- From three sprays onwards, every woman inevitably becomes a vamp.
So here, everyone literally has it in their own hands.
As for me, I am completely reconciled with JHAG, as this fragrance is a true gift, of high quality, and in my view, one of the most perfect interpretations of the tuberose theme ever.
I would like to hear this symphony more often now.
I would love to experience this scent on a man. I can really imagine that. For myself, it's too heavy, especially since I find patchouli combined with rose just as overwhelming as oud/rose. If it had cedar or vetiver in the mix, I would find it more bearable.
Wow, you gave it 9 points. I'm still skeptical about the tuberose, but you've made me curious. Would you like to see my photo of the full moon (over Hamburg)?
Yes. That's exactly how it is, the dance in the moonlight. I'm absolutely happy with my two little ones - and that's coming from someone who almost freaks out at the mention of tuberose, ;-).