Rose Prick is a representative example of my current relationship with Tom Ford. This must be what the cliché of the darned 7th year feels like. Once the great love at first sight, suddenly you have moved away from each other and wonder where the beloved has disappeared to. I wake up in the morning longing for the glow of the early hours. Like a souvenir photo I hold Tuscan Leather in my hands and smell it to remind myself that love is still there. But even that is difficult for me, since you are currently only a shallow water
Oh, Tom, we need to talk...
For all of you who are just browsing this commentary for a concise description of this fragrance, I'll make it easy for you and anticipate the résumé:
Beautiful opening of fruity and juicy rose, tilts early, then 08/15-sweet patchouli scent from a random drugstore, as I have never experienced it from Tom Ford.
But let's start at the beginning.
After Tom Ford's consistent epidemic of lavender fragrances, the third fragrance is now appearing with a strikingly provocative title, which clearly falls outside the usual naming conventions. Who knows, maybe a trilogy, which hopefully will end here. Let's take a look back:
In 2017 Ford releases its *räusper* strictly limited fragrance Fucking Fabulous.
If there's one thing Ford does, it's marketing. With a striking, provocative title like this one, which stands out from the rest of the private blends through its name, bottle design and above all price, FF becomes a hit ... for Tom's wallet.
Once licked with blood, it continues to turn bloody red, a year later Lost Cherry appears. If the predecessor had already argued about the suitability of the title, Lost Cherry puts one more on top. Colloquial, ambiguous English: Lost Cherry - lose your innocence. It gives a whole new meaning to blood-red. Phew, quickly move on to the next one:
And the latest, even vulgar, stroke of genius from the house of Ford: Rose Prick, the engraver, the ... the rose dick? Oh Maria hilf, what were you thinking?
The one or other attentive reader may have noticed that I gave the bottle a relatively poor rating. For comparison: The majority of private blends receive 8/10 points from me. In my opinion this is generous, as other manufacturers are simply better in terms of quality. Ford's atomizers are ok, the cap doesn't hold after a short time, the packaging is also just cardboard and never before a sticker sat in the middle or straight. Rose Prick fits seamlessly into the new design of the Private Blends. Originally, each bottle had the same look: brown pharmacy glass with a golden sticker. And if you consider that Tom Ford himself had the intention to establish the first big luxury brand for perfumes, then I think the original design is absolutely perfect. So when I, as a private person, look into my display case and catch this noble look of brown and gold, I feel confirmed that I own something truly precious. But since the Oud and Portofino Collection, that's already passé. Who knows, maybe I'm the only one who doesn't like the colorful bottles. The declining quality underlines the problem; no one can tell me that Noir de Noir or Tuscan Leather is still the same potent stuff that it was when it was released. Back to the topic: Rose Prick finally takes the cake. Matt old pink - really? Together with the greasy red of Lost Cherry, which still looks like a bottle of nail polish to me, I have the impression that I have acquired cheap drugstore fragrances (hypothetically, I only have one bottling). The joy of owning Private Blends as a collection in your own home simply fades. This is also supported by the naming, as mentioned above. Ambiguous and offensive names correspond to a youthful target group and not to those who have the ambition and the small change to acquire such a collection. Hihi... Prick. But that Ford wants to attract young customers can already be seen in the expansion of the everywhere available Aqua series. I feel reassured that Tom Ford is no longer the high standard brand that I have come to love. Bummer.
And now to the fragrance itself, which is an image of this odyssey of disappointment:
The opening is flawless. I almost thought that Ford had at least gotten the hang of it in terms of smell. Juicy, flowery, full-bodied, as Ford himself describes it, could not have fit better. The bouquet of roses is so juicy and sparkling that I already suspect hints of fruit. Therefore I felt immediately reminded of Portrait of a Lady with its juicy berries. A direct comparison of both fragrances confirmed my impression. Perhaps it is the pepper or the Turkish rose, with its spicy nature, that creates an image of saffron and a certain lethargy. Exciting!
Unfortunately, the enchanting illusion disintegrates within minutes. On the skin almost immediately, the test strip is a good half hour more patient.
Soon the roses disappear as fast as they came and I am hit by a massive dose of heavy, green earthy patchouli. The reasoning that a rose garden finally grows on earth may be correct, but nevertheless no realistic impressions of summer meadows can be found. No, it's just patchouli. Nothing more, no complex composition. On the test strip I smell minimal oriental tones, maybe turmeric, but not a bit on the skin.
The Dry-Down (skin) remains linear until the end. The patchouli calms down and Tom Ford's favourite base note of the last few years once again hits the mark: Tonka. From now on the fragrance is simply heavy and sweet. It reminds me of countless women's fragrances that I have smelled so often in drugstores and perfumeries, as well as of countless strange women that I have accidentally walked past at some point. I couldn't even call those fragrances by name, Rose Prick smells so arbitrary. Sweet creaminess on coumarin base without having any accusation of anything else; absolutely nothing that would add tension to the uniform pap. Just sweet patchouli.
The general durability of this fragrance is modest. On the test strip it can be smelled for a good 5-6 hours, on the skin the experience fades within an hour, in this case probably not too bad. In any case, there can be no talk of projection here.
What is my conclusion? I love this opening, I really do. It's like a version of Portrait of a Lady without the scratchy smoke. So juicy, summery and noble. Unfortunately very quiet and timid. The rest, and on my skin this means, from ten minutes at the latest, it is an absolute disappointment. Minimal powdery, therefore subtly soapy, otherwise creamy, cardboard sweet patch.
With this latest fragrance experience and the explained dilemma with the flacon design, the naming, the price increase and the decreasing quality of new releases and intensity of old fragrances, I come to my initially mentioned point of view:
Oh, Tom, we need to talk..