Dolce & Gabbana Spring Florals: The One & D&G Femine Reviews

I’ve held a grudge against the perfume division of Dolce&Gabbana’s glitzy empire ever since my beloved By Woman was discontinued. With their designs, Domenico Dolce and Stefano Gabbana have always challenged our preconceived notions about fashion, blurring the borders between what is vulgar and chic, over-the-top and demure. Their clothes have always been distinguished by a raw, unapologetic sexiness, where corsets rule supreme, party dresses become weapons of seduction and whips are never unlikely props. By Woman was the essence of all that, bottled and ready to use. From the scent itself to the bottle, this perfume was nothing less than the signature of the amazing house. Nothing that came before or after has managed to even come close to capturing the essence of Dolce & Gabbana’s designs or the feel of their advertizing campaigns. So I ignored most everything petulantly after a little sniff, ever looking for that sense of lost glamour and kittenish sex-appeal.

But it turns out that right there under my nose, were not one, but two excellent florals that I’ve been snubbing: The One and D&G Feminine. No, they will not engage the mind in provocative fantasies reminiscent of any Dolce & Gabbana campaigns, nor do they embody the spirit of the brand. And no, when it comes to majestic florals, these ain’t the precocious, grand canvases painted by Lutens, nor are they exceptional harvest blooms. But what they are is something equally worthy of a space in a scent wardrobe: They are perfectly wearable, very well crafted spring florals that give a sense of rejoicing in good weather and have the ability to lift the wearer’s sprits with their cheerfulness. Aside from being utterly wearable florals for spring, their other most outstanding feature is their sense of effortless, charming prettiness, which seems to serve to underscore the femininity of the wearer.

The One: Released in 2006, this has quickly become a bestseller here in Europe. It is a musky floral, which puts lily on center stage. I have a difficult relationship with lily in perfume (and admittedly there are many varieties, many of which completely scentless): it can either go very right or very wrong. The One manages to get it right for me. The opening is slightly green, featuring beautifully sweet, jammy citrus top notes. Peach aldehydes lend a smooth creamy texture to the transition from the sparkling top to the floral heart. If there is any jasmine in the blend, I cannot smell it; my nose instead focuses on the beautiful combination of lily and lily of the valley, tinged with accents of green. Lush and juicy, the heart notes evoke not just the flowers, but also the scent of thick, sappy flower stems cut at a florist’s. There is an aqueous freshness there, a glossy coolness that unfailingly brings the ritual of cutting stems and preparing them for a vase filled with cold water to my mind every time I wear this. The drydown is honeyed and warm, giving me the same sense of flower honey over musks that Boudoir does, despite the fact that the two smell very different. Despite the warmth, The One retains a clean, sometimes even sudsy profile from start to finish. Its slightly soapy nature means feminine appeal is combined with a completely untarnished image. As such, this is an excellent daytime scent that is safe enough for the office but playful enough to make one feel sexy in a sundress for a stroll in the park. I adore the 6ml EdP roll-on pen, which is lightweight enough to carry in a purse or clutch for touchups!

D&G Feminine: It is strange indeed that the youth orientated D&G Feminine would turn out to be the raunchy alternative to The One’s sanitized femininity. Feminine can come across as innocent at first, but it doesn’t take long before its sexually charged character shows through. Seemingly devoid (to my nose at least) of discernible top notes, Feminine throws the wearer into its deep floral heart with a giggle. It is an extravagant spring bouquet of white and mauve hues, combining fragrant wisteria, purple lilac, hyacinths, heliotrope and mimosa. The indolic character of the hyacinths and the lilac make this otherwise very romantic bouquet roar with pure animal lust. Despite their bad rep as passion-killers, as we well know powdery notes can also be very sensual, and this is exactly the role they assume here: soft, powdery mimosa and gentle, almondy heliotrope place the indolic notes well within the context of the boudoir. This one lasts and lasts on me, in fact I can often trace a faint whiff of it the next morning after having worn it the night before. It gets muskier and deeper in the drydown and the floral bouquet becomes all the more abstract, but its character remains intact for many, many hours. Gorgeous for a night out, ideally worn with a backless dress. Mmm…

Images: Dolce & Gabbana ad campaign, Flickr by Scott Robinson and Mrs. Gemstone

By Woman by Dolce & Gabbana : Perfume Review

I wore By Woman religiously in 1998; I remember its strong scent permeating everything at the time: my hair, my clothes, the hallway I’d rush through to get to the door, habitually late for any appointment. It has this way of leaving an air of longing behind it, hanging like a little cloud, long after the wearer has disappeared. I didn’t notice when it got discontinued, somehow I took it for granted, like something that would always be there for me when I needed it. Years later, the olfactory memory haunted me, at times as strong as though my perfumed wrist was stuck under my nose. Other times it would become elusive; leaving behind just this tortured feeling, the nagging certainty that I’d lost one of the sexiest scents I’d ever come across. This summer, while visiting Thessaloniki, I was lucky enough to find it again. Tucked away in what is now known as the old French quarter, three of the city’s oldest perfume shops still exist. The oldest one, the one I was craving to photograph for Fragrance Bouquet was closed, but the one next door was thankfully open. The shop sold mostly essences imported from France, but there was also a section, a few shelves really, of discontinued perfumes. I didn’t even need to scan them: By Woman caught my eye immediately with its extravagant leopard print box. Still wrapped and sealed, protected from the sun in its shady spot, it was as well as mine. My excitement was obvious and the owner of the shop engaged me in a conversation about his own lost loves of perfumery, confessing that he keeps the remnants of several in a drawer, taking them out for a sniff-induced trip back in time every now and again. I paid and left with a spring in my step, not only because I had found one of my own lost loves again, but because I had the chance to speak to someone who is obviously passionate about perfume too.

By Woman requires patience: It is one of those perfumes you have to wait for until they bloom to perfection on the skin. The opening is fresh, very citrusy and slightly green. It has a rather masculine quality to it, in an expensive cologne sort of way. Fruity tangerine and bitter bergamot dance around something unidentifiable – something almost plastic, which is not altogether unpleasant, but is very misleading indeed. It gives away nothing of the true character of the fragrance, the feverish sensuality that is to inevitably follow. It still seems tame, while it is anything but. And so it begins, testing the patience of the wearer with its indifferent masculine freshness. Persistently sniffing the skin is of no use at the moment: like playing with a cat, looking at it straight in the eye will not bring it closer. Ignore it though, avert your eyes, and soon the silky fur will undoubtedly surprise you by creeping up against you, in the same manner that By will surprise the senses by suddenly wafting towards the nose in a completely different manifestation than the one detected close to the skin. This gentle, wafting cloud is a prelude of how the scent will evolve on the skin. Soon perhaps, but not yet. For now the heady, exotic smell of the Lilly is blooming, trying to outdo the pungent, ever so slightly soapy ginger. The inebriating scent of pittosporum, the gorgeous flowering shrub that drives humans and bees alike crazy come spring, is embracing both. It caresses the skin with its white, delicate fingers, bestowing upon it the promise of nectar, the same promise that makes swarms of bees gather to gorge on its flowers. Then suddenly, yes, realization finally dawns: By Woman fully arrives, strong and thirsty, like luscious, engorged lips seeking the gloss of water. It positively surrounds the body, like an inescapable, delirious presence. Lashings of bittersweet coffee-syrup are poured all over the delicate white flowers, infused with vanilla and musk. The result is sweet, but not overly so: just perfect. The coffee combines perfectly with the smooth creaminess of sandalwood and the cedar eagerly brings the wearer's own skin-scent to the fore, enhancing it, underscoring all of its seductive qualities.

Deconstructing By seems almost like a mistake to me – the notes by themselves do not reveal the full extent of the end result. By is more than the sum of its parts: the beautiful blend is mysterious – I feel unable to decode how something can have so much sensuality just by looking at the notes. By is voluptuous, a pair of breasts drawn by an artist crazy with desire. It is sexuality worn as a weapon, which is of course, now that I think of it, the quintessential D&G woman. I don’t understand why this is no longer in production when thinking how much it fits their collections. It is the most gorgeous creature, leaving men half-conscious at the wake of her curves as she passes by, flaunting her cat o’ nine tails. By is empowering, one of the most empowering fragrances I have ever worn in fact. It acts like a confidence booster, like only a killer pair of heels possibly could. (for completely inimitable effects, try both at the same time) There are more powerhouse fragrances that can make a woman feel as strong as fortress, as powerful as a canon. Paloma Picasso would be a good example. But whereas Paloma warns intruders by penalty of castration, By raises an eyebrow and grins, hinting that she might be penetrable after all.

I want to continue the little tradition I started when reviewing Miyako, so from now on whenever I am reviewing a hard-to-find fragrance I will also be offering a sample of it. Please comment if you would like to be entered in the drawing.

PS: I hope the last image can be taken with the humor with which it is intended. I probably should not worry, but finding out that it was banned in the UK made a couple of alarm bells ring in my head!

Images: Author’s Own, www.doyletics.com and www.worldopiniontest.com