Genre: Floral Oriental
When my daughter was 8 or 9, she and a friend took over my kitchen to make me a special treat. The girls mixed a chocolate cake batter, and then enhanced it with orange juice, Parmesan cheese, garlic, balsamic vinegar, dog kibble, and a generous sprinkling of crushed black peppercorns. They offered me the resulting cupcakes, (frosted in lurid turquoise,) amidst a torrent of barely suppressed giggles. They referred to their project as “gourmet cooking,” but they could just as well have called it 100% Love.
100% Love is a real freak show of a scent, the olfactory equivalent of Heath Ledger’s Joker in the 2008 Batman movie. The opening juxtaposes a blaring chocolate note and an equally strident and unashamedly chemical floral accord. It’s the kind of intentional olfactory affront that dares you to keep sniffing and see what comes next. 100% serves up pretty much more of the same for the next few hours, before petering out into a very sweet, powdery, clean musk and vanilla drydown.
This scent leaves me in a quandary as a critic: it gets full credit for daring and originality, and in terms of keeping chocolate from smelling like food it’s a complete success. Yet I have to assert that 100% Love is a dreadful fragrance. Not because it's shocking, for it is clearly meant to shock. Not even because I don’t like the way it smells; there are plenty of scents whose quality I acknowledge, even if I don’t enjoy them. The matter of this scent’s merit hinges on one question: are originality and provocation by themselves sufficient?
Scents like Yatagan and Muscs Koublaï Khän are no less challenging than 100% Love, and neither is particularly “pretty” in the generally accepted sense. Yet I believe both to be beautiful – beautiful enough to rank as masterpieces of perfumery. Yatagan, for example, may assail the nose with uncomfortable notes of celery, artemisia, pine tar, and castoreum, but it evokes a compelling olfactory landscape of hot, parched conifer forests. 100% Love is like my daughter’s “gourmet cooking": it shocks, but it does not cohere. It offers nothing of interest after the initial “Ta-dah!” and hence seems to me more of a stunt than a perfume. If novelty and shock value suffice for you, you may well enjoy 100% Love, but I want more, and I deem it unwearable.
I feel awful giving this a neutral review as I feel strongly that it is brilliant and awful. It does recreate that Love sensation, that all is sweet and fluffy like a candy floss hug. Combined with the background stomach butterflies knowing that you don't know anything that's about to happen. I Feel it but maybe I'm just not 'in love' enough right now to want to wear it.
75% love hearts
15% sour salt secretions
No, No we just can't be together, it's just not right.
It is amazing that I don't get the chocolate note at all, since everyone else seems to. All I get is a linear strawberry/raspberry effect with a dry sour rose note holding it up.
One of those gourmand scents that was never meant to be splashed on a human being.
These attempts to outdo the unique creation of ANGEL all fail in my estimation. Be happy with the original and don't even attempt to do it one better.
All in all, this is perfectly pleasant a scent (I don't get any of the negative reactions others do), but better found in the make-up of a Pepperidge Farm berry turnover than on a person.
Slick, green, vile, and vomitous. Something sappy and milky—a paper-dry odor is rasping at the back of my throat. Light, abstract floral on salty, vegetal substances. This perfume is ugly. I am terribly disappointed because this was touted as Sophia Grojsman’s masterpiece. What’s up? For an “odd floral,” Kenzo Flower is infinitely more attractive. I don't 'care how original it is, it smells like stomach regurgitation.
Dark chocolate & berry vomit. No hyperbole, no sneering. I’m an RN and smell a lot of vomit. This smells like dark chocolate, a couple of blueberries and gastric secretions.
Is this meant to be experimental/supercilious as in Secretions Magnifiques? It’s part of the S-Perfume condom-covered line. Is it meant to refer to some aspect of sex (that apparently I’ve never experienced)?
I’m vaguely perplexed, but it smells so awful that I have no interest in returning to the scene of the crime and getting to the bottom of it.
The first 3..5 wearings are the most interesting ones. Eventually I got used to the rancid smell that draw interest in the first place. Like cheese or smelly feet. Now as I'm more trained to separate 'notes' I don't experience this effect any more. The fragrance got its place in the archive.
Chocolate and rose and woods and incense in a dry blend that decidedly is pleasing, if not sexy. I would love to smell it on a woman. It's youthful, joyful. Once I smell it unexpectedly I will be slap happy.