Narcisse

It has long been my practice to make careful rather than impulsive purchasing decisions when it comes to perfume. A perfume bottle sitting on the shelf unsmelled and unworn is like an orphan child waiting for adoption. To avoid this unsettling scenario of feeling obligated to wear a perfume just because it’s there, I have developed a golden rule that never failed me until now: I only purchase a perfume if I find myself daydreaming about it after I empty a sample of it.
This worked great until I found myself using up more than two samples of Narciso Rodriguez, and while denying any affection to it find myself trying it on almost every time I visit a store that carries it. I could probably be held accountable for justifying the production of at least 4ml of this juice, but still I refuse to put either money or words to explain such a bizarre behaviour!
There is something unsettling about Narciso Rodriguez. It is obscure and unstable. The first time I smelled it I thought it was an extremely heady floral scent; It left impression of artificial gardenia, or perhaps it was a trick of my imagination, as I was expecting it to smell like narcissus – or at least something close. How naive of me! A few other times it was just so barely there I could hardly smell it (carrying on the musk and anosmia theme here), but a few hours later it grew warm and strong and the little ribbon was enough to scent the whole living room. One time I thought I like it so much that I sprayed so much on I ended up with a terrible headache and swore to never wear it again…Recently, I smell in it a faintly sweet floral opening, reminiscent of orange blossom and slightly sweet and warm citrus honey. This quickly fades into a more woody floral accord, and finally warms into a subtle skin-like musk, with a very close to the skin dry down. In any case, it does have the tendency to grow on fabrics better than the skin – and make them smell like they just came out of the drier… When that happens I seriously consider adding Narciso to the category of comfort scents that are obscure, overtly synthetic and sensually aloof (next to Tocade and l'Eau d'Issey). Perhaps I am intrigued by the unstable and indecisive, sitting-on-the-fence mind frame, and that is why I find myself obsessed with this perfume. I
If I was a cognitive psychologist, I would conclude – I wear it because I like it. I prefer to stick to my golden rule, only this time – if I finish the mini bottle that just arrived from e-Bay today, and still try to figure out Narciso Rodriguez – I will commit to buy a 100ml EDT bottle for the full retail price at Holt Renfrew crew who have been very patient...
*Photograph of Mariko Tanabe's Narcisse en silence