Shooting from the Lip
My rip-snortin’ jaunt from ballet girl to punkette to pop singer to TV host & all the messy stuff in between
Perfumes: The A-Z Guide
Witty and provocative reviews of 1,800+ perfumes
What the Nose Knows
A fun and quirky romp through everyday smells
A cultural history of smell
The Emperor of Scent
Maverick Luca Turin's entertaining tussles with perfume and science
The Perfect Scent
An insider's look at the creation of two bestselling fragrances
A Natural History of the Senses
An aphrodisiac for all five senses
The Secret of ScentLuca Turin's scientific look at perfume
Essence and AlchemyThe voluptuous history of natural perfume.
It's sweet. Did I mention it's sweet?
Flowerbomb by Viktor & Rolf was the pink cumulus cloud my girlfriend, the artist Georgie Hopton, lived in when it was released in 2004. She'd discovered it after years of wearing Chanel Gardénia, and now that I think about it, perhaps there is a bridge between Gardénia and Flowerbomb: the candy-sweet jasmine that is a hallmark of both.
My friend Georgie is fiercely smart and ferociously stylish, and could never be written off as a ditz, as I want to do with Flowerbomb. Flowerbomb is a real creampuff of a perfume, with everything that would make a little girl squeal, “YummeeeeEEEEEE!” if it were glopped into a sundae bowl at her birthday party.
There are those sugar-crystallized flowers, that hot wisp of cotton candy. But it doesn't venture into the pain zone inflicted by the shrill, soapy musks present in teenage “carnival gourmands” like Viva La Juicy, and for that I forgive Flowerbomb its other excesses. It wears persistently, but softly, and even develops an appealing, low-wattage spiciness in the final fade-out.
Georgie has long since moved on from Flowerbomb, but not from her perfume sweet tooth. She's swapped her caramel sundae for a root beer one: Annick Goutal Myrrhe Ardente.