Sexy Times, Part 3: Viktor & Rolf Flowerbomb

Queridos, the first two perfumes in this very sexy series have, for the most part, been on the darker end of the sexy spectrum. Today we will explore the lighter side of sexy, something I like to call “pink sexy”. Pink sexy is not particularly sensual. It’s more Barbie than Bardot. Where MV3 was a leather dress, a “pink sexy” perfume would be a Juicy Couture tracksuit. Pink sexy means Cher Horowitz inClueless, Regina George in Mean Girls, Kirsten Dunst in Bring It On. The prettiest girls at your high school, the ones who straighten their blonde hair every morning and always frame their blindingly white smiles with the perfect pink lipgloss. They could steal your boyfriend with ease, if they even knew who you were. The prom queens, the sorority girls, the cheerleaders. Love them or hate them, you can’t help but want to be like them.

Oh, ’90s fashion.

Flowerbomb, created in 2004, exemplifies this perky, girly type of sexiness. Flowerbomb is a bit of a misnomer; “Sugarbomb” would have been more appropriate. Flowerbomb is sweet beyond belief and is very closely related to Aquolina Pink Sugar, Chanel Coco Mademoiselle, and Philosophy Falling In Love. Now, I have repeatedly established myself as an enemy of Pink Sugar on this blog, and in general I do not find such sugary fare particularly sexy. However, I acknowledge that the reason that there are so very many overly sweet perfumes on the market today is because many women love them. Study after study has shown that men also prefer sweet smells, such as vanilla (they are also fond of bacon). I would be remiss if I did not include a perfume from the sugary genre, and Flowerbomb is probably the best of its kind.

One of the reasons that I hate Pink Sugar so much is that I actually had very high hopes for it. A perfume that smells like cotton candy? Who doesn’t like cotton candy? But then Pink Sugar just smelled like licorice, and it broke my heart, and then she slept with like three of my bros, just don’t even talk to me about her, man. Flowerbomb actually achieves the cotton candy effect that Pink Sugar promised but never delivered. The opening stage of Flowerbomb is juicy (bergamot) and sweet. It makes me imagine a room in Willy Wonka’s factory, perhaps a cave made entirely of pink rock candy.

After a few minutes I could smell something that my nose registered as strawberries. Since there are actually no fruits at all in Flowerbomb, I am forced to conclude that this is instead the lightest jasmine that I have ever smelled. Flowerbomb stumbles once the patchouli appears. Something about the combination of sugar and patchouli, a notoriously earthy note, seems rather off. I also do not care for this effect in another sugar-patchouli perfume, Dior Miss Dior Cherie.

Flowerbomb bears a startling resemblance to Thierry Mugler’s Angel; it could pass for Angel’s shy little sister. Like Angel, Flowerbomb can be a little scary, reminiscent of how the Regina Georges of the world are often feared as much as they are loved. Pink sexy can and often does deteriorate into “bitchy sexy”. At its best, however, Flowerbomb is pleasant, flirty fun.

When Regina George makes this face, you RUN AWAY.

Disclaimer: I received a sample of Flowerbomb from a SA at Saks Fifth Avenue. I would never, ever buy this, as it is outrageously expensive- $150 for 3.4 ounces. It’s not THAT different from Pink Sugar, y’all.