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I got two sample vials of Ananas Fizz, and testing it has surely been one of the oddest experiences I've had with a new fragrance. I've got to admit that it was fun putting it on. In the privacy of my own home, I poured the entire vial over my forearms, shoulders, throat, and breasts. This excess was the result of my often being unable to smell many L'Artisan frags after 90 seconds from application. The fruit-loopy top notes (which aren't really pineapple and don't fool this Honolulu native) are anything but natural, but there's a weird cheap thrills quality about it. No, it's not in the least like pouring pineapple juice all over yourself. (Aloha!) It lacks the biting but extremely sweet edginess of the real thing. It doesn't smell like any real grapefruit either. Only the French, who brought the concept of the simulacrum into postmodern discourse, could create this apotheosis of complete artificiality.
After three minutes or so--was I hallucinating?--the scent seemed to explode (yes!) with a loud blast of something I had no words to describe, even though it caused me to choke violently. Although there was something vaguely recognizable about it, I was hard pressed to analyze what it smelled like until I was teaching the next day. One of my students had a little can of one of those ghastly "energy drinks" of which undergraduates consume massive quantities in spite of the fact that they taste like nothing nature ever created. Yes! That was it! It smelled like Red Bull or whatever it is tastes! Ach! Fortunately, this moment passed quickly and the fragrance died down into an interesting powdery fruity scent, peculiar but hardly unpleasant. In a little over a hour it disappeared altogether.
I would say that it felt, all in all, like an ephemeral cheap thrill--only L'Artisan fragrances are never cheap. I can imagine that my undergraduates might like it, and I'd certainly prefer smelling Ananas Fizz than Paris Hilton Ineducable or some such in the classroom any day. I suspect, though, that something as French, eccentric, upscale, and thoroughly postmodern as AF would appeal more to the intellectually curious than to the average sorority girl. Even so, better on them than on their fifty-something professor. I might just put the second sample vial in my briefcase and let them have some fun with it before the class begins. After the midterms, I need some amusement. In the meantime, I'll look to Dole for pineapple.
31st May, 2010