I didn't see any other thread on the Jo Malone sugar and spice series, other than the announcement some time ago, so I'll open one-I smelled some of them in a store earlier today.
This series evidently tries to cash in on the current, inexplicable fascination of US young women with cupcakes. Common in celebscents, such genre has now infiltrated niche perfumery. Histoires de Parfum just launched its Alice and Peter line a few months ago, with cupcake shaped bottles. Jo Malone, owned by uberamericana Estee Lauder, claims to be inspired by English cakes-as if they were any more classy than the American counterpart (here, I'm thinking about Turin's comment on English firms peddling their overpriced stuff to clueless tourists at Fortunum and Mason).
Unfortunately, the first one I picked up was the bitter orange and chocolate. It is exactly what is says it is. In atypical fashion for the house, it is a potent, realistic, high calorie concentrate of an orangecream chocolate cupcake. Said concoction, while not entirely bad when eaten, is already at the limit of human digestive capacity. Spritzed on, it is simply revolting. In retrospect, it explains why fruity syrups for girls add tons of sharp, acidic florals: at least it makes the juice inedible. Here, it's pure gourmandise. The only use I can see for this thing is as an appetite suppressant for fashionable girls planning to become anorexic.
After this, it was hard to discern much about the others. At least, they are not as potent. On paper at home, I have something that smells like lemon cream, not entirely bad, but too sweet (where is Feu d'Issey when we need it?) Reading the descriptions, it could be the lemon tart. Another strip smells tart and slightly flowery. Not bad either, but I'm not sure what it is.
cacio
This series evidently tries to cash in on the current, inexplicable fascination of US young women with cupcakes. Common in celebscents, such genre has now infiltrated niche perfumery. Histoires de Parfum just launched its Alice and Peter line a few months ago, with cupcake shaped bottles. Jo Malone, owned by uberamericana Estee Lauder, claims to be inspired by English cakes-as if they were any more classy than the American counterpart (here, I'm thinking about Turin's comment on English firms peddling their overpriced stuff to clueless tourists at Fortunum and Mason).
Unfortunately, the first one I picked up was the bitter orange and chocolate. It is exactly what is says it is. In atypical fashion for the house, it is a potent, realistic, high calorie concentrate of an orangecream chocolate cupcake. Said concoction, while not entirely bad when eaten, is already at the limit of human digestive capacity. Spritzed on, it is simply revolting. In retrospect, it explains why fruity syrups for girls add tons of sharp, acidic florals: at least it makes the juice inedible. Here, it's pure gourmandise. The only use I can see for this thing is as an appetite suppressant for fashionable girls planning to become anorexic.
After this, it was hard to discern much about the others. At least, they are not as potent. On paper at home, I have something that smells like lemon cream, not entirely bad, but too sweet (where is Feu d'Issey when we need it?) Reading the descriptions, it could be the lemon tart. Another strip smells tart and slightly flowery. Not bad either, but I'm not sure what it is.
cacio
