TinaPiano

So many comments and statements (!) have come in about this fragrance. I have the feeling, especially with Gourmands, that I can't get a good picture based on reviews - toffee or almond or chocolate get such a different scent impression depending on how the composition is interwoven. Toffee or caramel in Candy by Prada cannot be compared with the caramel sweetness in Omnia Profumis Madera, for example. I find the former almost daring due to the Prada iris, the latter has a certain spiciness. Nevertheless, both are gourmands and "sweet". And with Italica in particular, the scent impressions "sweet", "super sweet" and "unacceptably sweet" put even gourmand fans off at first. I really like Italica and for me it is very similar to Madera. There's one thing I wouldn't have guessed from most of the comments: I find Italica to be an extremely serious fragrance. The toffee note lacks any childish lightness, sweetened milk, yes, definitely there, but in the cooking pot of the well-heeled lady of a dark-wooded mansion in the Carpathians. Not in a candy store. The slightly pungent fragrance impression, which some people dislike for being bitingly sweet, is - in my opinion - not due to the almondy sweetness, but to the saffron. You have to like that, I actually have my problems with saffron and that is also the reason why Italica would not get a 10/10 in my personal opinion and ranking - the fragrance impression is very closed and dense, but unfortunately many "milk fragrances" have the characteristic that they appear somewhat viscous when they lack lighter components. The color and opacity of the bottle fits perfectly with the adult, serious and outwardly distancing fragrance that is hidden inside and speaks of a certain reminiscent melancholy.

Love knows many faces, has many manifestations and although it is a universal feeling to which all of us - blissfully or suffering - are and will be exposed more often than once in our lives, no love is comparable to the next. We always perceive them as absolute and unique, the moment we feel them. And it can take on very different forms, at the same time revealing the most beautiful and darkest of our selves. From mother's love to jealousy. From the deep alliance - "we two against the rest of the world" - to (su)murder fantasies, the other should break this alliance... The drama of antiquity and its emerging dilemma between polis and love. Hyakinthos (my favourite myth, which gives the beautiful flower its name and in its suffering truthfulness makes the rose I just bought pale with envy on Valentine's Day). Goethe's Werther. Anna Karenina. Chet Baker. Rammstein.

Defying all this drama and hysteria that love doesn't even seldom accept, Kenzo's olfactory interpretation is about the most peaceful form. His sweet powderiness is there from the beginning, but never stabbing, never overstraining, never captivating, never vain or loud. The Sillage is present, but always pleasant. The playful cherry blossom and the light almond aroma of the heliotrope provide the necessary flattering reconciliation that should follow the smashing of plates in the matrimonial dispute (to stick to the theme). Kenzo Amour is the most balanced partner you can imagine - and also smells of self-love. I feel an - only very slight - emotional resemblance to Lalique's "Satine", whereby the latter lacks any fruitiness, which makes him appear somewhat duller and possibly also more one-dimensional. However, unlike the "perfect" partner, Amour is never boring, only self-sufficient. A designer fragrance that rightly enjoys such a high rating here at Parfumo and has been around for a long time. Personally, I am always looking for fragrances that belong in the category: sweet, feminine, sweet, powdery etc.. Test it. And something never quite goes right and I turn away unsatisfied. Anyone who's okay should try Amour. Sometimes less is just more, and lasting peace is more valuable than entertaining satisfaction.