Womanity by Thierry Mugler, 2010

They got so much wrong with Womanity, from the clunky name that defies attempts to pronounce it naturally, to the thrift store goth metalwork on the bottle coupled with baby pink juice, to the near-fatal blow: announcing it had a caviar note. This last truly frightened some, with kneejerk reactions of Ewww, this smells of fish. The suggestibility of the human mind even got some others to claim this was eau de pudenda; if thats the case then I can only say, as Germaine Greer once did, Lady, love your c***. Unlike a creation like Secretions Magnifiques which deserves every horror heaped upon its head, Womanity appears to be quite a misunderstood thing. It breaks new ground in two ways: it is a departure from the maximalism of Angel and AMen and so strikes a different pose to what is expected of a Mugler perfume at this stage in the game, and it offers a novel pathway to the dead-end the fig note had run down after the early brilliance of creations like Philosykos which made later fig fumes seem somewhat derivative. In Womanity the proposition was of a fig that was clean and light to begin with, all foliage and sap, nestling on a deepening sweetness that appears to my nose to be more a fruity fortification of the enticing fig leaf smell rather than the odour of the fig fruit as such (which has vegetal characteristics that are absent here). There were no coconutty distractions, instead what lay beneath the structure was a solid but unobtrusive woody note, providing firm and inconspicuous support like an underwired bra. What appeared to be frost on its surface was fine crystalline salt, a marine tang that seemed to freeze the perfume at its various stages (though its slow evolution after the headnotes can give the impression of linearity) and yet freshen and sharpen it and make it something to savour. The salt provides Womanitys central contrast between its luscious, tasty aspect and its abiding cool, cooked-up-in-a-lab face. So what we have is a cool, sweet and salty fig fume which has brilliant tenacity yet feels light and wears well in summer; a wonder no-one else thought of it before. True, it has more of the vibe of something poured from a test tube rather than plucked from a tree. It has clear, defined contours, rather than hidden depths. I recall Chandler Burrs first reaction to it in that BBC documentary. Startled look at camera, before re-sniffing his forearm and announcing with big smile: Does [pause] Not [pause] Disappoint.

Nice start: candied citrus. Nothing new, a sort of candied grapefruit (Caviar? Spare me.) After the brief opening, Womanity cycles through a vague floral mid-top note to a sweet but thin oriental, and eventually acquires its only element of interest: a woody, milky fig leaf. (The fig leaf is a cute metaphorical joke. I'll give Mugler that. A fig leaf is intended to hide your private parts. Remember the shape of a fig leaf, though, and consider just whose parts. Hint: not womanity's.) This fig leaf folds nicely into the oriental heart, but soon fades and Womanity hits the wall. It stops at a hackneyed, sweet woody tone and goes no further. Futuristic? Otherworldy? No. Commonplace? Yes. Suburban in its heart of hearts? Yes. There is a strong sense of entropy and dissolution to the Mugler line: Angel (avenging angel) Innocent (happy angel) Angel Garden of Stars (flood of flankers) Alien (shrill, but conceptually a pretty floral) Les Parfums [insert random word] (might be something interesting in here, but whos going to dig through 13 simultaneously released flankers?) Les Miroirs (see above, change 13 to 5) Womanity (the fragrance aimed at the woman who was the girl who wore fruity- floral/cotton candy perfumes 10 years ago) Whats next, Angel Adolescent in another overly-styled bottle simply filled with sugar-water?

Dear Womanity, why are you so unloved? I feel as if something is wrong with me seeming that I enjoy you so. I know many people get citrus, fig, salty caviar, nail polish or bad body odour, but I smell spicy cookies. No joke, Womanity smells exactly like a cookie shop to me, the kind of smell that wafts past you, instantly electrifying your taste buds, with that 'straight-out-of-the-oven' freshly baked cookie smell. I smelt Womanity over and over again to see whether my perception changed, but sure enough it smells foody and sweet like cookies. Towards the heart I can begin to sense the fig which is delicious and tarty but never overwhelming. There is also a sparkling pink grapefruit accord in there somewhere too, which along with the pomegranate are the only fruits I can smell. Womanity is a really fascinating scent, nowhere near as bad as some people are making it out to be. The lasting power and sillage are highly commendable and the complexity of the composition absolutely breath-taking. I am so pleased that Thierry Mugler has once again jumped into the deep end and taken another risk with this new release. If all fragrance houses did this, the world of perfumery would be much more interesting.