Guillotine Parfums Sophiste

If someone had told me a week ago that I would soon voluntarily go under the knife, I would have insulted them, laughed in outrage, or sprinted away like an Olympic athlete (Catch me if you can, my life is precious). With all due respect, Mr. Grey, sadomaso? No thanks, and if it must be, I’d rather swing the whip myself!

Accordingly, I looked at Mr. André Strelzoff skeptically and a bit embarrassed when he offered me to test the Guillotine.
"How... you want to behead me?!! I like my head, thank you very much! My head is my most valuable asset, why would I lay it at your feet?!"
"But Miss, you will not be placed under the guillotine, rather everyone else will lose their heads when they come near you!"
Hmm, I was still not convinced. After all, I enjoy deeper conversations and there are already enough headless people around. And as for the love department, I have never liked being placed on an invisible pedestal; one quickly loses ground beneath one's feet and/or is swiftly and painfully sent back to lower realms.

Nevertheless, I overcame my initial skepticism and reluctance and chose to embrace my legendary curiosity and adventurous spirit. So on Saturday, I went home with a miniature guillotine and promised myself inwardly, in a calm, safe moment, to surrender to the olfactory bloodlust.

That day has now come. Today I am wearing Guillotine. So far, no one has fallen victim to it, but that’s normal since I just sprayed the scent and haven’t dared to venture out in public with it yet.

First impression? Special... So, the urge to snack on myself hasn’t overtaken me yet! The scent is green and spicy. I think I smell galbanum and cumin. The latter is one of my least favorite spices in fragrances. It often smells too much like sweat. Hmm, I wonder what others will think at the gym? That I come unwashed and have already sweated profusely before the workout? Maybe I should skip gym day and, with a clear conscience, lounge on the couch for some in-house scent research. No, I will overcome my inner couch potato (hopefully the others will overcome their outer ones too) and test the effects of Guillotine live. See you soon...

Oh yes, just before I go... Sophiste Parfums advertises the fragrance as follows (freely translated from English): This scent is for those who have a passionate personality and a living soul (yes, that’s me), for those who live meaningfully (still true) and uncompromisingly (hello gym!)... for true revolutionaries! Hot, resinous base notes that will blow other people's minds like a guillotine. Then there’s a short text about the French Revolution (I hate the end of this historical period; of course, I’m glad to live in a democracy, but I have never advocated violence). Moving on... this scent brings its wearer power and freedom (sure, everyone flees from your stench) and helps to lead others (hmm, I’d rather let my natural charm play). The scent that can completely change the general understanding of perfume (is that a reference to the almighty scent that makes the masses submissive? Like the perfume of Grenouille?).

That’s quite a statement and a huge challenge, isn’t it? To be continued...

A few hours later... No one has fled from me, and I haven’t received any specific comments on my fragrance choice. Now and then, I thought I saw a discreet wrinkling of noses, but I didn’t dare to ask outright if they think I stink.

Now my own verdict: I definitely find the scent interesting with its green, spicy, and animalistic facets. The few details that Sophiste provides are: grapefruit, Bloody Red Sicilian orange, tomato juice, spices, and oak moss.

The fresh-fruity accents don’t really reveal themselves to me, although the combination of grapefruit and cumin can indeed evoke a sweaty, slightly decomposed acidity. I also can’t smell the tomato, at most in leaf form, but even then, it’s very subtle.

As strange and interesting as it seems, and thus develops a certain charm for my nose, I still don’t find it lovable or wearable. I would rather intellectually observe and dissect it than merge with it. I find scents with tomato leaf notes quite wearable (see Eau de Campagne by Sisley), and I’m not immune to animalistic, slightly dirty perfumes (see Musc Kubilai Khan by Serge Lutens). With Guillotine, however, I smell more like rotting flesh (well, that’s a bit exaggerated), so the perfume is definitely not a candidate for purchase for me. However, I could well imagine it as an olfactory scent sculpture in an avant-garde art exhibition.
I haven’t become headless, and no one has fallen under my will, so the scent story has ended well. Meanwhile, since it’s all about blood and beheadings, I’d rather watch a nice vampire series.