Belle en Rykiel Sonia Rykiel 2006 Eau de Parfum
3
Helpful Review
The 80's Power Suit of Scent
I own a flacon of this fragrance and am compelled to wear it once in a rare while. It's a bit like feeling obliged to go and meet with that not entirely pleasant half-friend who somehow needs it more than I do. Once I get there, it's not as bad as I dreaded it would be, but still nowhere nearly as good as to make me want to meet again any time soon.
So, what exactly is wrong with Belle en Rykiel, I ask myself time and time again. Upon the first glance - nothing. There's the cuddly coffee, vanilla and amber accord which stays true and prominent throughout the wearing. There are patchouli and woods humming in the background. There's a pinch of soft, feminine heliotrope powder and a smidgen of tart berries. It is in fact rather a lovely aroma.
And then there's that frigid lavender-frankincense thing going on, turning what would have been an amiable fruitchouli with a coffee twist into a strange dissonant medley. And what's more, I can't help but notice one of the woody amber molecules (ambroxan or some such) being used in abundance here, which combined with the frankincense note gives this fragrance too much lift.
It's almost as if the idea of "unisex" was taken too literally, resulting in a confusing mix that is inherently cold and sharp-angled yet masquerades as warm and soft. It's thin where it promised to be rich and arid where it promised to be comfortingly hefty, too sweet for summer and not comfortable enough for colder weather.
So the question remains. When and where can someone who thinks of perfumes as companions, conversation pieces or statements, like I do, wear this peculiar sent-bon?
So, what exactly is wrong with Belle en Rykiel, I ask myself time and time again. Upon the first glance - nothing. There's the cuddly coffee, vanilla and amber accord which stays true and prominent throughout the wearing. There are patchouli and woods humming in the background. There's a pinch of soft, feminine heliotrope powder and a smidgen of tart berries. It is in fact rather a lovely aroma.
And then there's that frigid lavender-frankincense thing going on, turning what would have been an amiable fruitchouli with a coffee twist into a strange dissonant medley. And what's more, I can't help but notice one of the woody amber molecules (ambroxan or some such) being used in abundance here, which combined with the frankincense note gives this fragrance too much lift.
It's almost as if the idea of "unisex" was taken too literally, resulting in a confusing mix that is inherently cold and sharp-angled yet masquerades as warm and soft. It's thin where it promised to be rich and arid where it promised to be comfortingly hefty, too sweet for summer and not comfortable enough for colder weather.
So the question remains. When and where can someone who thinks of perfumes as companions, conversation pieces or statements, like I do, wear this peculiar sent-bon?
ChapeauClack
