Pippilotta by Le Frag

On my quest for a perfume with personality, one that leaves a mark and reminds people of you even when you’re not around, I ended up at this brand. After reading other reviews, I decided to buy it blind. Huge mistake. I’ve thrown away very few perfumes before: I got tired of the scent, it reminded me of people I’d rather forget, etc. I gave it several chances, but I just can’t handle it. I’m unable to describe what I’m smelling and can’t find any evolution. From the first application, it’s a torrent that floods the room, and you’re just waiting for it to subside without success. The smell seems extremely synthetic and unpleasant, an opinion shared by others I’ve asked. Even though we buy perfume for our own enjoyment, the image you project matters. I’ve gone through the phase of trying challenging perfumes, but then you have to laugh at comments like: ‘Doesn’t it smell burnt?’ or ‘Doesn’t it smell damp?’ (knowing that the source is you). After three or four uses, I got rid of the perfume. I’ve tried others from the same brand and I believe they’d offer me the same experience.

On August 9, 1945, Truman ordered the release of Fat Man over Nagasaki. I don’t know when @miguelmatosperfumes will create another Fat Man they’ll call Pippilotta. A fragrance measured in megatons that must be respected. It’s overwhelming, powerful, and a bit rude; it doesn’t ask for permission, it invades first and asks later. The opening is animalic citrus at level 7, but once the skin absorbs the power, it jumps to 15 and doesn’t stop until 10 hours. The animalic part is furious; for me, it’s bearable, but for my people: ‘What are you wearing?’. Pippilotta accompanies you the next day, as long as you don’t soak your clothes, otherwise it will last weeks. Citrus-animal with flowers (jasmine, orange blossom) in the background, reducing the power to our pituitary glands. It’s spectacular. The idea is well executed. Pippi is rebellious, powerful, ill-mannered, and different, who wanted to be Pippi? I like it more than Genesis. Thanks Aga (@le_frag) and @miguelmatosperfumes for another bombshell.

We still can’t understand each other. Jasmine syrup, radioactive chemicals, bitter medicine. That said, it lasts forever, just like it’s left a permanent imprint on my brain. It might turn you red-haired. Now that I know there’s nothing animal here, at least for me, I’ll give it more chances whenever I want to smell flowers, many flowers, all flowers. My problem is it doesn’t smell natural, but nobody said it would be easy. I accept the challenge. EDIT: The initial syrupy phase seems shorter now. I mostly notice citrus now, which aren’t listed in the notes, confirming Pippilotta is neurotoxic. Today it decided to be nice; it has days and character. I’m clearer now that eventually we’ll understand each other, even if we won’t be the same.

La Tomatina is a festival in Buñol, Valencia, where they throw tomatoes. This scent reminds me of that: rolling around in a sea of ripe oranges and white flowers, swapping out the tomatoes. It’s a chaotic, mischievous, polarizing fragrance. Maybe I’m getting a bit overwhelmed with this floral, citrusy, animalic, and eternal scent—unique for partying. Pequeño Tío and Nilsson confirm it. If you’re not into this vibe, it’s not for you. After six months, oxidation has done its work, and I guarantee people make way for you when you wear this. It’s an atomic bomb. Like pouring Fairy dish soap in water: you finish it and rinse it off. That’s the reaction some have. I love it, lol.

Pippilotta is too heavy metal for my pituitary gland. Is it a balm capable of resurrecting the dead or a new weapon? Maybe instead of a perfume, they’ve discovered the antidote for post-COVID anosmia.