It doesn’t agree with my skin chemistry.
Which is most unfortunate because all the listed notes are delightful.
I tested it last year. It left me aghast.
Since then, I’ve been informed of the notes and therefore, decided to give it another chance.
I mean, beloved orange blossom, honey, rose and cedar! That combination sounds so promising!
For sure, I’m missing out on a gem, so let’s test again.
To be correct, I haven’t repeated the experience with a blank state of mind.
Quite the opposite: excited by my awareness of these lovely notes, I threw all clinical objectivity to the wind!
I was sooo predisposed to love it.
That horrendous opening 🙁 Made me choke.
Sharp indolic, heavy powdery frags, and the scent of fresh lilies or narcissus usually trigger that gag reflex.
Their common attributes being: an overwhelming blast of chalky bitterness, followed by foul morning breath.
It ruined the orange blossom.
Once I let it dry, it turned into rubber and fecal matter.
Jasmine sambac possesses aforementioned characteristics, amongst others, doesn’t it?
I completely comprehend “dirty” notes may add some dimension and interest.
Unfortunately, no nuanced animalistic undertones here: just straight up mammal dejections.
I tried hard to overcome my repulsion. I kept smelling. But finding any redeeming quality was out of reach.
Since I couldn’t stomach that stench and started to feel queasy, allowing the perfume to progress was just inconceivable.
Scrubbed it all, here we go.
I’m just not ready to get physically sick in the name of research.
At least, I tried.
This review has been well downvoted, although I didn’t use foul language or disrespected my fellow Fragranticians.
I can’t believe recounting my perfume experience and not bearing its smell have become valid reasons for being booed!
Since when trying hard to like a perfume that ends up making one physically sick is an offensive statement?
Some people need to realize tastes and opinions vary from one to another (or physical resistance thresholds, in this instance).