Eau Torride by Givenchy

Torride’s opening is strangely bitter and poisonous; rarely do I test a fragrance without thinking the bottle has pricked me with sun-burnt rush fragments, a sign of corruption. Curiously, it smells this way because it’s loaded with honeysuckle, a love/hate note rarely used. It leaves me indifferent, but I appreciate that a designer fragrance dares to stray from the recurrent and seek exotic paths, which is why I cherish it; the bottle is very pretty. Honeysuckle has legends—it’s the tree Judas hanged himself from, linked to bad luck; they say the cross was made from its wood. Its berries have been used medicinally, and the scent is a sunny herbal toxicity; to my nose, it’s similar to myrtle but more poisonous and fragrant. A note with these connotations gives me life; we have enough reality and ugliness to value legend and fantasy. Torride is an interesting water: herbal, citrusy, medicinal, arid, exotic, and urban. It could be a wild shrub growing by survival surrounded by concrete sidewalks and traffic in a smoke-filled city. It’s a filthy water with great presence (actually, a baffling and rare perfume) that even smells like a dirty ashtray to me. Like a crazy cousin sister with more Daytona 500 facets from Arden and Panarea Myrtle from Acqua di Parma. Totally unisex, a minimalist evolution done gracefully from the dynamic waters of the seventies. Nagel doesn’t usually create vulgar perfumes; she has a certain stamp of trying to do things right.

I wore it a few years ago; it was one of my first, and in university, I was absolutely blown away, super chic and elegant for that age, just the right point. I’ve never seen it in any perfumerie since; if I find it, I’ll definitely claim it back; it will bring back many memories. I bought it because it was in TU magazines and I fell in love with the bottle, so pretty and feminine, and the scent didn’t disappoint me.

They offered it to me at an excellent price, but I couldn’t buy it; I preferred to leave it in the store for someone who would truly value it and get the gift of such a good deal. It’s a rare scent, very citrusy and not friendly to my nose… tea? Ummm, I don’t think so. The name suited it perfectly… I guess I just didn’t get it, as it’s too ‘torrid’ for my nose. I could imagine a woman in her 30s-40s, physically young but with a style and outfits older than her age, who likes to wear light and vivid colors, fabric shoes… she never goes to a hairdresser… possibly she enjoys poems, simple food, and the outdoors… and she might have several wild cats at home.