A stand-out for all the wrong reasons; one of only two perfumes I've tested that have made me want to run screaming from my wrist whilst my stomach flip-flopped with nausea (the other was Secretions Magnifiques). All I get here from start to scrub is burnt rubbery hazelnuts turned up to 11. Like a radioactive Yankee Candle.
Initially blasting its wearer with a gumbo of (eye-)watery pear, apple, something vaguely almond (but not the nut; the blossom perhaps?) and raspberry, this stinker rapidly descends into the fruity gourmand circle of hell frequented by precocious teenagers wearing too much Maybelline. Blech - a scrubber. My search for the perfect almond scent continues...
Straightforward, simple and cheap as chips - a beautiful white musk that shimmers with delicate citrus and vanilla. Made me want to put on a cotton skirt with scalloped edges and let my hair fall down.
Having never quite ‘got’ the Caron line (I know - for shame!), I found Nocturnes at a tantalisingly low price and took a punt that I had evolved enough as a sniffer to appreciate this juice. A good punt indeed.
Nocturnes scared me a bit with its initial trumpet of aldehydes (a ‘Hello Granny’ moment), but swiftly seduced with a beautiful rendition of white florals, offset with a sparkling citrus note. At this stage I was thinking ‘What’s the deal with that name? This is definitely for day...’ - but then the base came through. Oh my - Nocturnes becomes a midnight vixen, albeit a subtle one. The phrases ‘a little musty’ and ‘slightly meaty’ may not sound too sexy, but in this incarnation those down-and-dirty notes combined with the glimmering top translate to a sensual mix of Miss Prim and Lady Panther. What’s not to love about that?