My aunt used to own a tanning salon and I would love the aroma of the tanning lotions, but Fire Island was not that. It just feels like a plastic synthetic fragrance that didn't really smell like anything. It's kinda different, but not really innovative. Save your money.
Yes, from the beginning this is suntan-lotion-laden summer beach atmosphere. At some stages the neroli gives some freshness, and in the base a tuberose hint with light white musk is present, but overall there is not much major development in my skin. The whole idea and concept of reflecting the pre-melanoma-scare beach atmosphere is truly original and a great idea. Silage and projection are adequate, but the longevity is a brilliant sunstroke-inducing ten hours. One of the most original Bonds and one of the most original concept fragrances of the mid-2000s I know.
Almost a thumbs down...this is powerful juice...and a little odd. Presents a crisp darkly concentrated rose and spice accord that trumpets loudly...too loudly. Then, there is a vague incense note that is sweet, more naga champa than patchouli unfortunately. Throughout wear, there is a grease smell like rendered animal fat...LARD. This quality is pervasive throughout, but really comes forward after about 3 hours when the sweeter notes fade. I have a feeling none of this is a mistake. I guess if the concept is to evoke a sense of European sun lotion, then perhaps this hits the mark. I'm ambivalent at best and certainly wouldn't pay the premium price for this.
Fire Island by Bond no 9 has an implicit goal: to emulate a memory of euro-sun tan lotion. It succeeds. It’s funny that this scent memory can be generalized. Fire Island doesn’t smell like any particular brand of sun tan lotion, but on smelling it, I instantly recognized the qualities that make up the lotion notion.
For those too young to remember the days of fostering skin cancer skin cancer by laying in the sun and baking, Fire Island is a creamy, musky sweet floral of no particular consequence. But for us old folks, Fire Island is the second-hand smoke of the perfume industry. Aaahhhh, the good-old, bad-old days.
An interesting scent, full of allusions and triggers from a smart perfumer, Michael
Had Etat Libre d’Orange released this scent, it might have had a pair of hairy buttocks on the label and a marketing blurb blathering about the scent of nude gay male sunbathers. Coming from Bond No. 9, it’s actually something far less provocative. In fact Fire Island is a very literally rendered “beach” scent, a tropical fruit and aquatic composition that knowingly evokes a high-priced suntan lotion. What elevates Fire Island beyond the merely cute is a lovely spicy/green neroli note that no suntan lotion has ever aspired to. Fire Island succeeds in its mission of smelling like a day at the beach without taking itself one bit too seriously – at least for as long as the neroli hangs around. Once the neroli’s gone the remaining white “laundry” musk and aquatic-themed aromachemicals are a lot less interesting. As an echo of the shampoo you’d use to wash the brine out of your hair at day’s end, this drydown is conceptually apt, but it’s still anticlimactic.
Nonetheless, Fire Island is good, unpretentious fun, and belongs on the same shelf as other beach-in-a-bottle fragrances like Sugar Lychee and Jailia. Projection and sillage are both generous, and though the fruity neroli phase lasts no more than two hours, the drydown extends much longer. Like any good suntan lotion, Fire Island is pretty much gender neutral.