If there were an intelligent species of alien who viewed us as mindless vermin, much as we view cockroaches, then the poisoned bait they'd strew across the planet in a desperate attempt to exterminate us would doubtless smell very much like Angel.
I don't much care for it when people talk about being nauseated by fragrances (unless they really do mean that it causes a literal physical reaction in them, like a migraine or an allergic response). Saying that something smells so bad that it makes you sick...it just seems a little tactless to me, you know? I mean, you're basically telling people who like and wear the fragrance that you think they smell gross. It's just not very polite.
So please understand that when I say that Angel turns my stomach, I am not using that phrase as a shorthand for claiming that I think it smells bad (or that you smell bad while wearing it). On the contrary, Angel smells...well, it smells both good *and* bad to me, both tasty and inedible, and that's the combination that causes all the trouble. It's that particular combination of edible/poisonous that triggers nausea in me, as if it causes some primal part of my lizard brain to wake up and start screaming in alarm. It's a combination that doesn't register so much as offensive or "icky" to me as it does as actively *dangerous,* because that combination of "Yummy...oh, no, but wait--" is the sign of food gone bad, a warning of incipient food poisoning. Or even worse, perhaps it's the smell of deliberate *bait.* It's the evil witch's gingerbread house, the sweetness down the gullet of the Venus Flytrap, the urban legend's Halloween apples with razor blades hidden inside of them. It's an Admiral Akhbar sort of thing: one whiff, and every nerve in my body starts screaming "No, don't go near it! It's a TRAAAAAAP!" It's tainted candy, poisoned honey, chocolate laced with arsenic. If there's amber here, then we are the flies.
Angel is to me what I imagine a delicious-looking wriggling worm with a barbed hook sticking through it might be to a sapient fish. Uhhh, yeah. You guys can have that one all to yourselves, thanks. I...I really wasn't hungry anyway.
I had to try this divisive scent and the moment it hit me - I recalled it. It was a scent that was popular when I was child. It was everywhere. It was inescapable.
On me, it was a lovely warm cocoa scent...with vague hints of camphor. Once that harshness wore off, it was pleasant enough. Cocoa sweetness. The divisiveness of this scent however discourages me from ever wearing it public. Read some of the negative reviews here. Good for a laugh but also makes one wary.
Got a sample vial for reasons of sick curiosity.
Roughly the same experience as when a cat gorges itself on cupcakes and Cadbury Caramello then horks it all up on your pillow.
Migraine in a star-shaped bottle.
What on earth is that?
I cannot distinguish the notes. They seem squished together like sardines and I'm pretty sure they are angry with me.
Why did the bottle need to look like something reminiscent of decor belonging to Studio 54? Am I missing something? Is there a reference I'm supposed to be getting?
Ouch. The migraine is real.
One of my everlasting favorite since 1992. A gourmand that is a party animal and a comforting heaven of caramel, cocoa and patchuli.. A masterpiece, especially, when i think of it as such a mainstream fragrance!
I really cannot bring myself to like--or even tolerate--this perfume. I will never forget the first time I smelled it--I was with a very attractive, well to do woman (a client of mine) and after a long meeting we all went on to dinner and while we were getting ready to go, she put on lipstick, brushed her hair and sprayed on some perfume. All charming, feminine gestures, except..... When she sprayed on Angel, everyone around the table did a double take--shock, horror, wrinkled noses, watering eyes, the whole lot. I SERIOUSLY thought that she had put on Raid insect killer by mistake--the smell was identical. It makes sense that I would not like it as I do not care for gourmand scents and do not like/am allergic to chocolate. But Raid? Really? Does anyone like that smell? The kicker is that after the dinner, we both flew home together on a very small plane and even in the drydown--which is better--all I could think of is pest control. In all fairness, I did once buy this for a secretary I had as a parting gift--she never wore it in the office, thank God, but had mentioned always wanting a bottle and as she was moving to another town, I thought, why not? I also thought, why?