07/07/2021
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The olfactory hand of the T-Rex
When I see women with almost white lipstick or bell bottoms, I think oakmoss and the 70s. When I see harsh contrasts in colors, large geometric patterns, and shoulder pads, I think Wummser and the 80s. When I see belly shirts, very low waist pants with thongs or tattoos peeking out, I think of the first forerunners of the gourmands that are still so successful today and the 90s. When I think of the noughties, I think of the so-called duckface, an excessive flanker culture, the self-evident liberation from fashion dictates and the increasing unisex trend. The decade of this millennium marks the beginning of what Happy Hour is perfecting here: The wholesale replacement of earlier fragrances with new, artificial molecules that not all people can perceive equally, the olfactory T-Rex hand, so to speak.
I love testing Diors, always hoping for a scent that excites me like Ambre Nuit or the old Dune. But the Diors of recent years all could not really convince me anymore, they seemed to me but always paler and dominated by the T-Rex hand of artificial fragrances. Nevertheless, I was not encouraged and exchanged Happy Hour.
I spray and - oha, there is no question of pallor! This is intense, this is extreme, this is red pepper underlaid with neat violet leaf. Extremely artificial, though fortunately notes that I don't think are bad in themselves. Miraculous only that they don't find themselves in the pyramid. Once the initial shock and intensity has subsided somewhat, I try to detect something behind this peppery violet leaf, but I don't quite want to, the wave is just too much in the foreground. After about an hour or so, I can now detect something pleasantly sweet and a hint of warmth behind the pepper that continues to dominate. In the heart note, a jasmine scent slowly and gently begins to emerge that makes me nostalgic for turn-of-the-millennium mainstreamers; it's a jasmine that seems rather soft and artificial, but thankfully not indolic in the process. Meanwhile, the pepper apparently begins to join the sweetish portion, and along with the violet leaf, awakens a tinge of anise candy in me.
Curiously, I wait for the base. I hope to discover behind the continuing dominant notes from the start perhaps a touch of cranberry or a little ylang-ylang.
Unfortunately, I do not succeed. There is some warmth added, perhaps a hint of vanilla, but as the jasmine, pepper and violet leaf fade, so do the anise candies and the entire scent until after about 6 hours it is barely perceptible and then completely evaporated.
Now was that a tease? I don't think so. I do not reject the T-Rex hand after all. It is just posed, artificial, not lifelike and thus paradoxically has something very traditional: The concealment of real feelings and the preservation of an outer appearance as it was opportune in the last century, especially among the higher ten thousand.
In this respect, this Dior has something that is otherwise attributed to Chanel: Cool restraint and the suitability for official occasions, where true feelings, spontaneity and the private must take a back seat.
In this sense, I find Happy Hour less pleasurable than the name suggests, but still surprisingly good.
I love testing Diors, always hoping for a scent that excites me like Ambre Nuit or the old Dune. But the Diors of recent years all could not really convince me anymore, they seemed to me but always paler and dominated by the T-Rex hand of artificial fragrances. Nevertheless, I was not encouraged and exchanged Happy Hour.
I spray and - oha, there is no question of pallor! This is intense, this is extreme, this is red pepper underlaid with neat violet leaf. Extremely artificial, though fortunately notes that I don't think are bad in themselves. Miraculous only that they don't find themselves in the pyramid. Once the initial shock and intensity has subsided somewhat, I try to detect something behind this peppery violet leaf, but I don't quite want to, the wave is just too much in the foreground. After about an hour or so, I can now detect something pleasantly sweet and a hint of warmth behind the pepper that continues to dominate. In the heart note, a jasmine scent slowly and gently begins to emerge that makes me nostalgic for turn-of-the-millennium mainstreamers; it's a jasmine that seems rather soft and artificial, but thankfully not indolic in the process. Meanwhile, the pepper apparently begins to join the sweetish portion, and along with the violet leaf, awakens a tinge of anise candy in me.
Curiously, I wait for the base. I hope to discover behind the continuing dominant notes from the start perhaps a touch of cranberry or a little ylang-ylang.
Unfortunately, I do not succeed. There is some warmth added, perhaps a hint of vanilla, but as the jasmine, pepper and violet leaf fade, so do the anise candies and the entire scent until after about 6 hours it is barely perceptible and then completely evaporated.
Now was that a tease? I don't think so. I do not reject the T-Rex hand after all. It is just posed, artificial, not lifelike and thus paradoxically has something very traditional: The concealment of real feelings and the preservation of an outer appearance as it was opportune in the last century, especially among the higher ten thousand.
In this respect, this Dior has something that is otherwise attributed to Chanel: Cool restraint and the suitability for official occasions, where true feelings, spontaneity and the private must take a back seat.
In this sense, I find Happy Hour less pleasurable than the name suggests, but still surprisingly good.
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