Stecca (2008)
by Hilde Soliani Profumi

After an initial chemical onslaught (think: model-making glue), Stecca becomes decidedly more natural-smelling. A mintiness emerges, followed by an edgy, green tartness, a piercing ginger and a deep earthiness. Before you know it, you're wearing a tomato on your skin, and not just the fruit, but the sap from the vines as well. It's an odd sensation, mainly because it isn't at all unpleasant. In fact, it feels much more refreshing and comfortable than spraying oneself with most of the so-called summer scents that invade department stores with depressing regularity every year. I haven't been to a fancy dress party for over two decades, but if I do ever go to one again, it shall be as a giant tomato, and I will complete the ensemble by spraying myself with this amusing little number.

10th November, 2011.

Hilde Soliani Profumi STECCA would be a must-have perfume—if only I were a caterpillar. Seriously, I'm a bit baffled as to why anyone of non-caterpillar origins would want to smell as though he or she spent the day picking tomatoes.

I've tried a few other perfumes with tomato leaf as a note: Annick Goutal PASSION and FOLAVRIL and Emilio Pucci SOLE 149. Unlike those complex compositions, STECCA uses tomato leaf not as one among a number of mutually complementary notes, but as the focal—and seemingly the only—note. Okay, so maybe that was a novel idea—who would have thought?

Then again, I do believe that this Big New Idea derives directly from Demeter. In fact, now that I think about it, tomato leaf may well already be on Demeter's either actual or prospective list of smells to re-create in spritz-on form. But even evaluated on its own terms, as a part of the Teatro series, STECCA fails, since the tomatoes which disgruntled audience members might have thrown at the actors on stage would have smelled like tomatoes, not green leaves and vines.

Needless to say, I'm unimpressed.

25th September, 2011.

I love the odor of tomato vine, and I love this fragrance!
It is marvelous, and smells exactly like rubbing vines and leaves on one's hands.
What a vital, energetic smell of nature! At first the scent is powerful and sharp.
Then it settles down into a perky leaf scent with a hint of pink grapefruit and very fresh tomato fruit.
Now, admittedly this is a one-note wonder. And Sisley's Eau de Campagne does the same thing with more complexity and less price.
But this is very good. It is green, dry and wonderfully natural.

12nd February, 2011.

I'm surprised this doesn't have any reviews yet, since it seems to have generated some, er, discussion in the forums. Worth checking out. :-)

This fragrance is based on the scent of tomato plants (or more specifically, tomato vines and leaves), and that's pretty much exactly what it delivers. The opening has a bit of crushed grapefruit seed and the tail end smells a bit like a baby's skin, but overall it's quite linear. The scent is quite true to reality and includes the sappy, diffusive "I'm poisonous" overtones, as opposed to CB I Hate Perfume's Memory of Kindness fragrance, which is more of an idealized (though short-lived) tomato leaf. (Tomato leaves are in fact poisonous since they contain solanine; the plant is a member of the nightshade family.)

Although this is a very interesting fragrance to sample, I have to say that I wouldn't wear it again or want to smell like it. But that's consistent with my experience of the smell of actual tomato plants, which I've always found a bit unpleasant. If you love the odor of tomato vine, you'll love this fragrance. Thumbs up for verisimilitude.

Lasts a few hours, not much sillage.

28th October, 2009.