LiliumLibido

How Estee Lauder created such a masterpiece in the bath oil and such a revolting stink bomb in the spray is a mystery, quite frankly. So I am reviewing the bath oil because the spray makes my eyes water and makes me want to hurl.

YD is one of the most polarizing fragrances in the world, it has inspired lust and poetry as well as hatred and revulsion, and that was what attracted me to it initially.
It has been compared Ad Nauseam with Cinnabar and Opium, but it is older than both, in fact, I believe it was the inspiration for both.

But YD is truly unique, imo.
First, one should never, EVER over apply YD. Or she will turn into a Weapon of Mass Destruction that will reach every living creature in a 10 mile radius on a search and destroy mission. Overdone, YD is one cruel, heartless, ugly psycho.

But try a tiny dot on a couple of pulse points. It will take flight in a deep spicy fugue, and develop into a surprising breathy softness, think of a jewelled toned silk veil from somewhere far, far away, a land that you can't pronounce or find on a map.
The scent is not sweet but well into the drydown, a voluptuous roundness appears: Gone is the initial slap of the patchouli, it is now replaced with a mysterious femininity that transforms the fragrance from butch to femme through an arcane metamorphosis of notes: All skillfully blended to play up and contrast each other while avoiding any coarseness between the stages.

YD is a maze of impenetrable meanders, and like the map of a landscape so forbidding that only a few, bona fide risk takers would venture to visit, she appears absolutely terrifying at first glance. (Or at first sniff, in this case, lol) But DO dare and explore her Byzantine territory: You must use a gentle approach and an open mind, but if you do, you will be awed by its unconventional beauty.

YD was not created for those who like to drench themselves with total abandon, it is an elixir best worn in trace, minute amount. And she may decide to reject your chemistry. But if you are compatible and she likes you, she will take you on an unforgettable journey.

Everytime I put on Cinnabar, I can feel the cooling effect if spice on my skin: Many people disagree, but because of this, I love Cinnabar in the dead of a swealtering summer. Applied with a super light hand, it never fails: I'm always told I smell so fresh and clean, lol.

But I wear it during winter as well, usually under my clothing: it warms gently on my skin and the resulting scent is always better (fuller, a little sweeter, softer) than if I wear it on exposed skin.

A full spray of Cinnabar is always overkill, for me, but in light dose, it has replaced the now defunct Opium, which was mercilessly disfigured by the IFRA. With enough time to allow for the drydown to take place, I can detect a mouthwatering juiciness, in this scent, it's sunny, bright and warm.

While the composition relies on floral essences to carry the softness throughout, the combination of frankincense and patchouli in the base shrouds the fragrance with foreign mystery, it gives it an exotic angle that darkens and deepens the scent while keeping it airy and giving it unbeatable sillage.

The title pretty much says it all!
I really wanted to like Casmir but it wasn't meant to be. On my skin it is a hair raising horror of cloying plasticky vanilla, shrill, bilious and nauseating.
It's the love child of a Twinkie and a science experiment gone wrong.
It's what would happen to the planet if a nuclear bomb was dropped on a synthetic vanilla laboratory.
It's a nightmare on my skin, lol.

There is a note in Addict that I cannot place but that keeps me coming back for more all the time: the more I wear it, the more I want it, it's like catnip, lol.
I have never encountered any other fragrance that could do this.
(Sure enough, it is absent from the reformulated version, I guess the IFRA couldn't let us have too much fun)

Addict is an unctuous, opaque scent, think of it as a luxurious damask cloak. A dark, smoky vanilla with floral undertones and a huge wollop of musk, it needs to be applied very, VERY sparingly to let your skin come through and work its magic, otherwise you end up with a building slammed on your head and everyone in a 10 mile radius gassed stiff.
But if done right, Addict is a bewitching, narcotic brew that can reduce the most focused thinker into a glassy eyed babbling fool, its sillage is all velvety smooth and its longevity will let your presence be felt long after you have gone.

If there ever was a fragrance for which "less is more" applied, Addict is it.

(The listed notes make absolutely no sense to me, but my bottle is from 2000, before any reformulation had occured)

What poison is derived from bitter almonds? Cyanide. And this perfume conveys exactly that: The initial bite of bitter almonds followed by the glassy eyed hypnosis of a near death experience... In a good way. Really, I swear! *wink* (btw cyanide is also a component found in apple seeds and apricot pits)

I find the bitter almond to be evident right in the top notes, in this, it tentalizes and compells from the get go, right into a heady jasmine spiced up with caraway seed: unusual and delectable. The scent is then underlined with sandalwood, vanilla and a lot of musk, every drop speaks of beguiling seduction in a voice so bewitching it could probably raise the dead, lol.
Sensual, yummy and dangerous. A fabulous combination, for a perfume.

Now, the original one had lasting power that could defy time itself, but I have heard that the new stuff is downright flighty, unfortunately. So if you can get a bottle that does not have the golden ring at the top, and is mat as opposed to shiny, pounce on it ferociously and treat yourself to something really special.
Dior is infamous for having the absolute worst reformulations ever in the entire world of the perfume industry, so looking for vintages of that house is usually worth the time and money.