Post by Chairman Meow
Recently, after combing through my local classifieds for an interesting scented bargain, I found myself in the thick of my old uni stomping grounds, knocking on a stranger’s door. It was answered by an ample bosomed young lady with a nuclear tan in Ugg boots.
“Come in, darl” she beamed, ushering me through the house. Her room, ascetically furnished, was redolent of a recently extinguished cigarette, masked by generous spritzes of Gucci Guilty. She waved an expansive hand at the half dozen or so fragrances sitting on her bookcase.
“I’m addicted to perfumes, babe. I keep buying them but I can’t use them all”. I politely agreed it was a splendid collection. Attempting to engage my young son in friendly banter, and receiving a churlish stare as her reward, she accepted my payment and I made a hasty exit to examine my prize.
Escada Magnetism by Pierre Bourdon and Steve Demercado 2003
Photo Stolen Fragrantica
Fragrantica gives these featured accords:
Top: Pineapple, black currant, melon, red berries, cassia and litchi
Heart: Magnolia, iris, green leaves, freesia, basil, jasmine, caraway, heliotrope, lily-of-the-valley, rose and almond blossom
Base: Sandalwood, amber, patchouli, musk, benzoin, caramel, vetiver and vanilla
But if you want an indication of what Magnetism is about, you need look no further than the flacon, the berry candy stalactite with its tongue-grazing chiselled edges, portentous of the juice within.
And indeed, Magnetism is a high-octane, fruit-astic confection with the stones to comfortably take on and take out the best of its ilk in a foxy boxing match. Its opening is familiar enough, a concoction of toffeed berries and that generic citrus note that seems to cut, like industrial grade detergent, through the tallow of many a sugary composition. It is accompanied for the first few minutes by something verdant, making for a crisp, if not bracing salvo.
After this point many of its poorer cousins will then trail off into some sort of perfume mumble, and evanesce into a vague vanilla-[insert unidimensional accord of choice] concoction, like an olfactory half finished sentence. Magnetism, apparently with more thought given to it, holds its shape for longer with quite distinguishable benzoin, patchouli and amber into the dry down. Later in its long, long life, I can make out something a little seedy, the faint whiff of smoker’s breath, as if the perfume had been imprinted with the memory of its former mistress.
Photo Stolen DeviantArt
Magnetism is aptly named, and evidently aimed at attracting the non-thinking sex symbol. Perhaps the most decisive indication of its common denominator appeal is the grunt of “nice” it got from Chairman Woof – high praise from one whose usual appraisals range from “non-specific” to “I don’ t like it”.
One reviewer on Basenotes thought it would “be great as a stripper scent”, and whilst my limited stripping experience precludes comment, I will venture that it is a perfume for the extroverted, saucy even, for those liberal in their use of “darl” and “babe”. I’m saving mine to trot out when I need to get my slapper on.
Chairman Meow. X