So these mainstream fruitchoulis get a bad rap. They’re too sugar-sweet, too formulaic, they hijack the sophisticated earthiness of patchouli for the purposes of seducing the seventeen year olds who probably have the biggest disposable incomes to drop at Sephora. They’re the perfume equivalence of gobbling up a bag full of lollies, with the same nauseous outcome.
With notes of raspberry, strawberry and pear, peony, jasmine and musk, YSL’s latest offering, Mon Paris, surely fits in the bag of Strawberries and Creams with its fruitchouli friends. The bottle is teeny enough too, wrapped in a ribbon like a present in every spritz. You can almost hear the teenage squeals.
And you know, maybe this says something about my sugar addiction but I kinda like it. Not on the first try, when the blast of berriliciousness is dizzying, but after a few wears, when I realized it was lifting my spirits. There’s a youthful optimism to Mon Paris, but a surprising depth as well. Those pretty berry notes are carried along by amber-edged ambroxan and the patchouli does indeed do its job, refreshing and grounding and bouncing the florals and fruits around until they’re tumbled into a rather delicious maceration, finally filtered through that airy, lightly applied musk-mix.
It’s just pleasant, delightfully escapist, and it’s easier to feel OK about the world when I’m wearing it. Which is a big deal today…
Yves Saint Laurent Mon Paris, from $99 at David Jones.