Kashaya by Kenzo

If you dare to break free from vintage perfume prejudices, you’ll truly understand perfumery. Leave the ‘auntie’ reviews for those who get excited about soulless mass-market scents. If you aren’t scared off by the initial sharp notes, follow the path of Kashaya: a creamy, voluptuous reward awaits. It’s a potent floral oriental with a fruity twist, distinct from current offerings. Ideal for going out at night: a sour mandarin dances with ripe apricot before transforming into a thick, creamy syrup. Exquisitely fine and opulent, it’s not light; it’s too creamy. Then, absolute magic: a bouquet of neroli and jasmine so real it takes your breath away. The vanilla is blazing at first, but yields to woody amber and sandalwood. The final phase clings to the skin like a second skin. It’s purely feminine. If you know what seduction is, this is your perfume. If you’re intrigued by the drama and security of the old school, seek out a small bottle: you’ll have a magical potion for your vanity.

Why do they throw away treasures like this? I managed to find an intact miniature, and upon opening it, what a surprise! An amber glass heart with sparkles and raised leaves—absolutely beautiful. The charm lies in the liquid itself: on the skin, it begins with caramelised notes of peach and sweet pineapple, then moves into a floral bouquet (a harmonious blend I can’t quite separate) and that spicy, vanilla-infused, resinous touch that makes it so lovely. It’s cloying yet pleasant (though I wouldn’t necessarily rank it that high). I’ve absolutely loved getting to know you, Kashaya ☺️🧡

I imagine Sophia thinking: how much peach can fit into a fragrance? One smells Kashaya and recognises her personal stamp. Unlike Tresor, where the rose escorts the peach, or Sun Moon Stars with the carnation, here she gives the juicy peach plenty of room in the opening, before settling into a uniform floral bouquet. Anise, soft sandalwood and resins give it identity. The peach/pineapple/vanilla combo recalls Sun Moon Stars, but they aren’t the same. The rose in Tresor is narcotic and distances the resemblance further. All three bear the Grojsman seal. Beautiful bottle, very nineties, good longevity and trail. Sweet and juicy but not cloying; the bouquet balances perfectly. Another thumbs up to this great woman of perfumery.

One of the most cloying perfumes I’ve tried. And look, that’s a compliment. Kenzo fragrances were the best; they always had a well-made stamp with a touch of exotic, Japanese, or even this kitsch version of Kashaya, which could be interpreted as Indian. Before there was just Kenzo, wonderful, and Ca Sent Beu. Then came the Jungle line, but in between slipped in this madness by Sophia Grojsman, and as expected, it carried peach and apricot. Sophia was never one for half-measures; she was the queen of the tipsy fruit-floral of the nineties, but here she put on high heels, I think she lost her head. Kashaya is an exuberant madness where it’s hard to distinguish notes, everything exaggerated. An ultra-sweet slap of overripe fig and peach almost bursting, packed with syrup, with the consistency of sparkling petals swimming in scandalous oriental notes and a sinful tuberose. A perfumery outrage. I wonder if her nuclear nature was to blame for it not taking off, though I doubt it. If you find it, try it; it’s a historical curiosity that distances itself from the adult Kenzo line to dive into unnuanced extravagance. Smelling it reminds you of those discos of my early nineties, full of girls with side-swept hair, defined lips, Levi’s 501s, black bombers, and a Fortuna cigarette. A little piece of history bottled.

This Kenzo perfume is one of the sweetest, lasts a long time on the skin. A friend used it and I liked it a lot, later I got an imitation and it was the same. I used it in winter; I think it’s for winter because it’s quite heavy. One of the few extremely sweet ones I enjoy.

A real gem from the great Sophia Grosman. What a pity it’s discontinued and so hard to track down. Fortunately, by pure chance, I stumbled upon a sealed 125 ml bottle from 1996 and simply couldn’t resist adding it to my collection. Kashaya is exquisite—sweet, fruity, with a spicy and aromatic twist. As it dries down, it smells remarkably similar to Sun Moon Stars by Karl Lagerfeld; it has a very 1990s vibe, just like other classics such as In Love Again, Hypnotic Poison, Chance, Eden, Acqua di Gio, or Chloe Innocence. Kashaya was the fragrance that opened the door to the new wave of perfumery that exploded in 2000: multifloral, fruity, and spicy scents with a captivating presence and notes of dewy mornings. Complex formulas, delicate, ethereal, and wonderfully naive fragrances. What I notice most are pineapple, peach, tangerine, vanilla, and benzoin, with a cedar that barely makes an appearance. Although not listed in the ingredients, I detect a subtle hint of pink pepper and cinnamon. It’s a very personal and subtle perception. If you can find it, buy it. It deserves a place in any collection. The trail is medium-low and the longevity is over four hours. Like eternal love, which is what Kashaya means in Sanskrit, it lingers on the skin like a caress, even if only you can feel it.