The Puredistance company prefers not to release lists of notes for its perfumes, preferring that we experience the scents as a whole rather than focusing on the individual pieces. This was a challenge for me.
Normally, part of my enjoyment of a perfume is the aromatic sleuthing I do - the teasing out of individual notes of a perfume, so that I understand the story it is trying to tell me. I love the "aha" moment when I recognize a particular note and appreciate how it's been used in this perfumes as compared to others that I've smelled. But that's just the "perfume nerd" in me.
Most people enjoy a perfume as a complete experience, not as an analytical exercise. And maybe they're right. Perfume as art isn't about the brush strokes, it's about the personality of the perfume and if it speaks to you or not. Here's what Antonia had to say to me:
Antonia is a green floral of great beauty. Wearing Antonia is like walking through an orchard in bloom on a warm afternoon. The trees are buzzing with bees and the sun turns the leaves and flowers into a dance of green and gold.
This green floral is not dry, like the chypres I've reviewed lately, but warm and sweet. It more like a seamless blend of green and floral and oriental. It's soft, never loud, but it's also quite strong with good sillage. The perfume contains 25% perfume oils. It's expensive and difficult to find in Canada, but if you fall in love you can order it online.
If Antonia was a season, she would be late spring becoming early summer. If she was a person, she would be a young woman. Antonia is kind and pretty. That's how I experienced it. (But, nerd that I am, I couldn't resist trying to list out some notes below.)
Perfumer: Annie Buzantian.
Notes: green notes, galbanum, flowers, vetiver, vanilla
Image: detail from Botticelli, Spring 1482, via Bob Swain
I haven't yet REALLY tested this - but from what I gleaned, this is a really gorgeous perfume - love your post!
ReplyDeleteI was sorry to not love Antonia, since I'm usually such a crazy fan of green florals.
ReplyDeleteI thought it very pretty for the first hour, but then it began to wear on my nerves with some synthetic, high-pitched THING I couldn't identify, and my two older children (who are generally kind in their comments) told me without being asked that they hated it. "It stinks, Mom." It STINKS? "Yes," said my middle child. "It's like... it's like... a janitor's closet. Ew." And this from the kid who knows his tuberose from his jasmine, his aldehydes from his galbanum. My teen daughter compared it to chemistry class.
I don't know what it is in there, along with the very-lovely galbanum, jasmine, hyacinth, vetiver and vanilla that I could otherwise pick out, that bugs me. But bug me it did.
Wish I'd gotten what YOU got. (Pouts. Stomps foot.)
Hi Bloody Frida: Thank you, and I hope you get a chance to test it properly soon.
ReplyDeleteHello Muse... That's a shame. I had the same thing happen for me with a perfume once, that got raves from everyone but I hated it. It doesn't happen often, but you have to be honest. Thanks for letting me know that not everyone loves this.
ReplyDeleteMmmm, really pretty scent, really pretty review, Krista! Sorry to hear that it didn't work for Muse, though.
ReplyDeleteGlad you loved it too, sad Muse didn't. The Puredistances are all special to me, I always enjoy it immensely when someone else falls in love.
ReplyDeleteSo lovely - both the perfume, and your essay. If a perfume accurately reflects the soul of its maker, then I'd say Annie Buzantian lives beyond the Mists of Avalon. ;)
ReplyDeleteHi Kjanicki,
ReplyDeleteI liked Puredistance 1 very much and fully expected to like this one too, but it went the exact same way Muse describes. Strident and a bit "off" in some way. I gave my sample to ScentScelf, though I don't know what she made of it.