You were a disappointment. A damn fine shame.

There is a fruity, sweet opening (but really, that’s not hard to find in fragrance) and for a few moments I almost believe you will lose your sweetness as you dry down, and let me enjoy the fruit. But you never do. You don’t lose your candied edge until right before you are completely faded, and at that point one has to inhale you directly off the skin. (No one wants to treat their perfume like heroin.)For a unisex scent there is too much femininity in you — you smell like youth, with the naiveté but without the innocence. And yes, you should in some way be commended for this… your sweet, fruity bouquet is likely attractive to the large part of modern female society.

At the same time, however, this should shame you. It’s nice, light enough to be appropriate anywhere, and very true to itself. You are, in a way, too true to yourself. There is nothing underneath your exterior or the pink of your bottle, there is nothing surprising or addictive hidden in your formula.

You’re wonderful for occasional wear when I wake up before my alarm clock, already buzzed. Your clarity is perfect when my mind is as well, but there is nothing about you that makes me think. I can imagine your brilliance should you be layered overtop something with depth, but on your own you are the air trapped in the champagne; a fruit without a body and a fragrance without a soul.I would like to smell you on a man, one bold and unabashedly masculine, no vague suggestion of an attraction to males. (It’s nothing personal; rather, if a feminine male wore you, you would continue being just as boring.) Just a light spritz, layered over a scent more masculine… I think it may give you that certain delicious who have you been with?

Or you may just continue on with your syrupy static.