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Je l'adore? No! Mais ça me plaît un peu
The day before yesterday the cashier threw a sample of "J'adore" into my bag at the turquoise. I was happy about the test possibility and sprayed myself already on the parking lot courageously a weakling of the big name on my forearm. The big name aroused great hopes, although I always associated Dior with something very elegant and feminine, even a certain noblesse and was therefore already prepared that the fragrance could not really suit me.
Well, what follows now can certainly be called a self-fulfilling prophecy. It smells of a restrained citric cloud of floral delicacy. If I had to interpret "J'adore" musically, I would take the flute. Light tones dominate the fragrance, if it had a colour it would be light yellow with a pastel note. I smell ylang-ylang and a lot of jasmine, but the wooden base doesn't want to show itself to me. And so it blooms silently and quietly. I miss any depth. "J'adore" has as many corners and edges as a gym ball. I feel strange in my skin with this scent. That's how ladies smell when everything is perfect. From the hairstyle to the nails to the costume, to which no lint sticks. Fresh laundry comes to mind, clean as a whistle. As I ponder, I remove some white cat hair from my black woolen sweater.
Is the scent erotic? Not at all. It is the scent of an ethereal being who wants to smell fresh, clean and smart beyond any sexuality. There is nothing at all corrupt about it that wanted to point to undreamt-of depths behind the accurate façade of its wearer. I can well imagine the fragrance on very feminine women up to the age of 40 who have to do their job in a trouser suit or costume and at the same time want to look friendly and serious. "J'adore" is not obtrusive or even penetrating, but always remains fine and polite. This understatement can also be seen in the fragrance, which is linear like a string of pearls (which, by the way, wouldn't harmonize badly with "J'adore"). Sillage is perceptible at arm's length with an appropriate dosage, but here too the fragrance does not deviate from its restrained credo. After about four hours, the fragrance rapidly degrades in terms of shelf life and is only perceptible very close to the body.
"J'adore" is a fragrance that is likely to cause vehement rejection among the fewest noses. It is pleasing, a friendly, clear fragrance for lovers of floral chords, for whom the word extravagance has something immanently threatening about it.
All the more the naming irritates me. With the French "J'adore" I associate affect-controlled devotion, sensual desire and a tiny bit of animal instinct. I would have called the fragrance "Mais oui, ça me plaît un peu". But that's probably why I'm not in Dior's marketing department