Blonde by Versace

So sweet it gave me a headache.

Spectacular. I’ve never smelled anything as incredible as Blonde. I can’t quite tell which flower dominates, whether neroli or gardenia, but it smells wet and creamy. To me, it’s 100% a 90s perfume, a scent of ‘new rich’, golden and bronzed. Whenever I can, I buy it.

The neroli is so potent that on my nose it smells like an absolute floral peach, precious and incredibly sweet. It’s so voluptuous it borders on the sweetness of a peach in syrup, so sweet it’s intoxicating. I expected to see it on the pyramid and it’s strange that it’s not there, so I assume it’s that neroli at maximum power. It’s so powerful and has so many nuances, oscillating between luminosity and darkness, the sweet and the wild, innocence and maturity. It’s a bomb; there’s no need to say its projection and longevity are implacable. It gives the sensation of raising the skin’s temperature; it’s a floral beast and the neroli is its queen. Recently I wrote a review of White Shoulders; they’re not similar, but I said it reminded me of vintage scent cards, as the neroli in Blonde still reminds me more of those cards. Both have neroli and that’s the similarity. It smells like a giant collection of scent cards but with an outstanding character, much more mature than those pastel-coloured papers with an 80s will. I’m blown away; in my head I can’t believe this doesn’t exist in the current market. It’s the best I’ve smelled from Versace, a damn bomb I discovered far too late. I’m not one to have a signature perfume, but I see myself wearing this for days, months, and more.

The neroli is so potent it smells of sweet floral peach, almost like jam, so voluptuous it is intoxicating. It is not listed in the pyramid, but I assume it is that neroli at its maximum. It oscillates between light and dark, sweet and wild, innocence and maturity. It is a bomb with relentless projection and longevity. It gives the sensation of warming the skin; it is a floral beast where neroli reigns supreme. It reminds me more of vintage scent cards than White Shoulders. It smells like a giant collection of those cards, but with more character and maturity. I am stunned; this is the best I have ever smelled from Versace, a bomb I discovered too late. I can see myself wearing this for days and months.

A truly vintage perfume. Lavender and neroli at full volume. An absolute excess of luxury and class. Perfect for night parties. The trail and projection are brutal; be careful with the amount, as it is not designed to go unnoticed. The bottle is exquisite; the 30ml version looks like a luxurious blue bar of soap.

Tuberose made into pure bacon. Talking about tuberose is talking about the quintessential animal and indolic floral. It’s an original flower from Mexico that the Spanish exported to the world, astounded by its narcotic and sweet aroma. Neroli is the opposite of soft flowers like lily of the valley or rose, even cold jasmine. Tuberose plays in a different league; it’s scandalous and loud, always shouting and unable to stay hidden. Even when tamed, its only purpose is to seduce, to make you think of pure sex, genitals, mucous membranes, and frenetic rhythms. Any fragrance with neroli isn’t for the timid; whoever chooses it does so consciously. Blonde is more hyperbolic and loud than other nerolis like Mahora or Carolina Herrera. Blonde is too much, ultra, greedy, capricious, and if necessary, impudent. It’s a yellow, syrupy tuberose, a Carpe Diem made into perfume with sexual fluids and sweet petals. It captures the moment just before orgasm. Versace started by making little noise, but with Blonde they shed their complexes; the brand in 1995 sold baroque and excess, a bacchanalian 90s Italy. Blonde is the epitome of that style. It’s the most overwhelming neroli I’ve heard, at maximum power with animal sweetness. As the initial citrus tone passes, it becomes more buttery, carnal, and vulgar. Sometimes I smell my hand and wonder if it’s perfume or a strip of salty bacon that doctors advise against but which with bread and tomato is deadly. It’s greasy, it’s morbid butter, a mess. Essential for tuberose lovers; if the rest seem shy, try this. Your eyes will melt. PS. If the perfume is good, the bottle is too: a transparent bottle with a matted Medusa engraving and a cap with a faux diamond. 90s Italy with a stop in Miami, pure madness.

Blonde is Versace’s masterpiece for me. It opens with a shower of white flowers, benzoin and musk, refreshed by lemon, before those flowers gain a dirty, wild edge—perhaps from civet—ending with a powdery trail. I adore the gardenia and orange blossom. It’s elegant, sublime, complex and feminine, with that duality between the immaculate and the wild that is pure delight. The projection and longevity are incredible. I need to buy it again.