Starts out with a delicious sweet dried fruit, and since what I really wanted was Egoiste Except Safe To Wear Around People Who Don't Like Perfume, I was so taken that I rushed home at once with a bottle. After a pleasantly green and spicy heart, the drydown became CALONE FEVER on me - a synthetic melon-water sort of thing of pronounced durability.
I can see this being appealing to some people, and if you wanted an aquatic that had some brains in its pretty transparent head, Kenzo PH is better than most. But I couldn't take it.
At its best and weirdest after the first blast of topnotes have evaporated; for a while, fifteen-twenty minutes, this bizarre concoction shares with Bvlgari Black the idea of a sweetly spiced fragrance disfigured into obscenity by a weird dominant aroma. In Black it is, famously, rubber, and to me Dune smelled like nothing so much as mulled formaldehyde. Little by little the formaldehyde burns away, leaving a salt of myrrh as its worrying residue.
And then the whole thing gets progressively more ambery and musk until by the half hour mark it is nothing but. Just a huge amber syrup that, as my skin seems to cherish amber, lasts forever. From time to time I catch a wiff of the rotting green - tangerine leaves just before they decompose into mulch - that made the heart so fascinating, but mostly it is amber.
If you like amber, try this; if you like amber and twenty-minute-long morbid olfactory jokes, buy as many bottles as you can find.