It occurred to me that I never got to review Missoni by Missoni despite my intimate acquaintance with it. The reason for that is that while I rushed to buy a bottle the second it appeared at Saks, I also got rid of it just as quickly.
I've been a Missoni (fashion) fan for years and the adorable bottle with it's little knit bib was irresistible. So was knowing the nose behind Missoni perfume was Maurice Roucel. What could go wrong? spraying myself with Angel's second cousin was what went wrong. and also the fact that Missoni clearly aimed at the younger yummy-seeking crowd. I love a good gourmand and enjoy a chocolate note in many perfumes, but after weeks of making my own stomach turn every time I attempted to wear even a tiny spray of Missoni I had to admit: it was not meant for my skin.
I was reminded of Missoni perfume lately and decided to try again. C-a-r-e-f-u-l-l-y. It's still a no go. I get the different elements that Roucel put together for Missoni. I understand why Luca Turin called the composition "kaleidoscopic". My brain knows why this is unique. But my skin and my nose interpret the chocolate-peony-melon combination as an old banana, and that greenish thread that Turin describes as "a luminous, almost minty accord" is the final kick in the stomach for me. It's like a phosphorous, hazardous material kind of green and the overripeness of the whole thing as soon as it touches my skin is nothing short of revolting.
It's gorgeous on a blotter, which makes the tropical nightmare even more painful to endure.
Looking back, I can see that the decision to make Missoni perfume as this fruitchouli with fudge sauce and sprinkles was the harbinger of Missoni For Target. The company wants to reach a new demographic and rake in the money in the process. A legitimate decision, of course, that probably helps fund the upper echelons of its products, but they lost me in the process.
Missoni by Missoni ($80, 1.7 oz EDP) is available from many department stores and beauty.com.