Skarabäus

Before I get to the actual review, I want to elaborate a bit. So if you're not in the mood for chatter without a perfume evaluation, please skip to the * , thank you.

According to Ex Nihilo's marketing department, this fragrance is dedicated to modern, sophisticated, seductive women... Just for that reason, I couldn't wear it at work. When I strut down the basement hallway at 5:45 AM in my insane asylum green (in clinical jargon, that's called 'apple green' - really NO ONE would eat apples in that color nuance!) onesie in sexy slow-mo, wearing once-white rubber slippers under buzzing, flickering neon lights, men's hearts (and some women's hearts too) come flying my way. My mane bounces in a disposable hairnet, my dark circles cast shadows down to my collarbones, and my floor-length rubber apron creaks ominously. Hearts might even throw checkered board shorts with phone numbers or ribbed fabric with the request 'give me a child!' after me. Add my impeccable character and my modesty, and that would be too much of a good thing. You see: I couldn't possibly bear the responsibility of wearing such a man-eater scent on top of that. So I stick to disinfectants with a pathetic attempt at neroli scent, drugstore waters, and formaldehyde.

*So what does this fragrance smell like?

- Hair spray from the 80s
- Nature-identical lychees from a can with sugar syrup and a bit of aluminum residue
- Canned peaches including the above add-ons
- Peppery-clean-synthetic lab patchouli (The "moss" in connection with musk?? Or was the musk the hair spray after all?)

What does it not smell like?
- Peony
- Orange blossom

Or in other words: If my peonies and orange blossoms smelled like that, I would call an exorcist.

So does the marketing fit? Yes and no... Modern, in the form of synthetic, loud, and not very subtle, fits. Sophisticated and seductive, I define completely differently.

And what was that about self-irony?
Right from the first sniff, this fragrance felt extremely familiar, but for a long time, I couldn't place it. Until it hit me like scales falling from a fish's tail: it is very, very closely related to Fantasia Mermaid!
In a sea foam green muffin bottle crowned with a golden glittering plastic mermaid, the fragrance appears playful, self-ironic, and winking. At Ex Nihilo, it comes off as unintentionally funny. Especially with a discrepancy of €25 for the mermaid versus over €200 for the man-eater.

Here again, it shows how narrow the line is between voluntary and involuntary comedy. Often, it’s just a little wink.

Recently in the marketing department of Marc Jacobs:

On the occasion of the 10th anniversary of Miss Krummbiegel's unpaid internship, the heads of the marketing department at MJ (that's Emmdschey - an internal slang term) came up with something special. Not some impersonal gift for a maximum of €60 (including VAT), as Mr. Zinkemöller from accounting had recommended. No, it was something truly special to appreciate Miss Krummbiegel's persistent efforts to infuse her creativity: she was allowed to add a name to the 2023 "Daisy Eau So Fresh | Marc Jacobs" flanker. The big "Daisy Eau So Fresh | Marc Jacobs," which almost everyone knew, many loved, and even more wore daily to smell simply and effortlessly good.
She was beside herself with joy, bubbling with happiness, feeling like she was in seventh heaven, yes, like... in paradise. PARADISE, there it was!

So or something like that must have happened, because I can't explain the naming any other way.
With 'Paradise,' I associate many things (Monoï, frangipani, coconut, salt-sand-vanilla, apples, etc.), just not this scent.
The connection to "Daisy Eau So Fresh | Marc Jacobs" and Daisy Eau de Toilette is quite clear: floral, fresh, moderately sweet, with a bit of green in between to create depth and character.
But what is fun, cheerful, and playful in the two big ones is here a bit calmer, more melancholic, and serious.
If you know it, you can smell the pink pepper and the lavender - I had blindly guessed iris (no powder, no dust, no carrot) and earthy patchouli (no cellar, no chocolate). And here the circle closes again, because the search engine says that Mitti Attar smells like petrichor. Indeed, that's true; the original has been given a bit more transparency, earthiness, woodiness, and wetness (no aquatic!).
I don't recognize a classic scent progression; the three fragrance notes are present from the start and are almost equally intense.

If I try to create an image of the scent, I see a meadow with crocuses (I know, they smell very little) in front of me, it is early spring, still very cool, and the rain has just stopped.

So why 'Paradise'? Why not 'Lavender Fields,' 'A Day in Early Spring,' or for that matter 'Daisies on a Rainy Day'? No, better not. The last name sounds like a film for adults.
And the pink bottle doesn't really match the scent either. I would have preferred a bluish violet (like lavender or iris) instead of the candy pink of the packaging.

The scent is really beautiful, wearable daily, pleasant, unobtrusive, and literally grounded by the base note, but not boring or arbitrary - only the marketing behind it drives me completely crazy.
For the 15th anniversary of Miss Krummbiegel, I hope the heads of the marketing department listen to Mr. Zinkemöller.

P.S. The marketing department of Emmdschey just called me: They read my comment and are offering me an unpaid internship!! Can you believe it? For my 5th anniversary, I get to name a flanker. Rumor has it that it has something to do with yuzu and osmanthus. I think I’ll call it 'snipe & roasted bacon.'

P.P.S. Now a producer of adult films has also called here: for every silly title, I get €15, for every silly and double entendre title €20, and for silly and triple entendre even €27.

Thanks for reading :).