Yeah, I get it. Florals; flowers.
It’s not that the advertisement for a fragrance should mean anything (well, maybe anything other than the Neroli Portofino advertisement for Tom Ford), but the golden coloured Charlize Theron, regardless of all that razzle dazzle attire and hair makes me instantly either scour other channels or find a new pastime other than television. The olfactic imprint of this fragrance makes me shrink into my seat and cower like a puppy. Granted, I don’t like florals that much and of course that doesn’t become focal in this review.
I hate walking through certain department stores, or any other area filled with tween girls – it stinks of monotony. Thinking back, as a young teenager that impression put me almost permanently off florals, as too many girls either wore dully dilute perfume waters coloured an innocent pink or aerosol cans with a fleeting one-dimensional floral accord. It is a downcast feeling that J’adore evokes the same memories; horribly horribly despondent.
© 2014 Liam Sardea
Calice Becker is universally famous for her floral abstractions, and Tommy Girl is a legend for smelling like a wonderful green fruit floral – with an innovational, frankly genius luminous tea accord (Luca Turin has written about Becker’s approach in obtaining the ‘tea’ smell – it is fascinating). In J’adore I find that the silky gauziness of florals are replaced with shampoo fruits, that is then disrupted with a cutting and sticky vanilla musk. Frankly Dior has Roudnitska’s immaculate florals and should stick with and sell them solely.
A powdered sugar accord mixes a candy sweet ripe peach, dry rose (which is in fact Damascene) and what I detect, a berry coulis note, adding to my suspicions that this smells like shampoo on clean and air-dried hair.
Whilst being sweet and hard boiled in nature, this fragrance nevertheless contains an exceptional sense of balance. This EdT presents a satirical take on glamor, switching understated with maximalism. Italian yellow mandarin essence gives liveliness in the opening – with a slight fruity touch. Frankly, whilst the connotations berate and bemuse me J’adore is perfectly nice – however you might get caught out with others limply saying: “Oh, J’adore.”
I don’t think J’adore is particularly interesting, nose-catching nor on an [artistic] level to give it anything above average praise. Neroli gives tenderness, just like how any other base note in a floral fragrance softens the composition – it is smooth and suggests rosey cheeks and golden sun seen through muslin cloth and washed with soap – where is the richness? The opening is diffusive like crepuscular rays of sunshine, with flecks of champaca flower, rose and jasmine with little touches of ylang ylang. It may be the greatest floral opening for all I know, it’s optimistic and virtuous. This doesn’t last for long.
It’s a smooth trail of musk in the end, and the milky peach – which I won’t deny is perfectly pleasant – is about as good as $2 white bread: you eat it because the bakery is closed on Sundays. It is suddenly disrupted with artificiality and a dilapidated sense of wateriness; reeking the ‘neglected and dusty guest room soaps on the counter top’ vibe. This is not Dior quality.
Stay for the opening, leave for everything else. Get the parfum.
Subjective rating : 1/5
Objective rating: 3/5