Most perfumes on the market today are solidly unremarkable. Not incredible, not wretched, these fragrances fail to make much of an impression of any kind. But every once in a while, a perfume will be truly, hilariously, unrepentantly bad. Not so-bad-it’s-good. Not Michael Jackson bad. Straight-up, triple distilled, essence of bad. Strange as it may sound, these types of scents give me almost as much joy as a great perfume would. It’s always better to show your true colors than to be generic, even if your true colors happen to be the color of puce.
Oh boy oh boy oh boy. Where to begin? First, the name. You may be wondering where Lady Million got its odd moniker. When I finally smelled it, the answer became very clear: “Million” refers to the amount, in cash, you would have to pay me to wear this in public. Then there’s the bottle. Lady Million’s bottle is supposedly based on the Regent diamond. Instead, it resembles nothing so much as the air freshener that you would expect to find in Donald Trump’s bathroom. J-Woww would consider it tacky. Kimora Lee Simmons would find it a bit much.
Just to put that into perspective, Kimora Lee Simmons owns Baby Phat.
As for the scent itself, I defer to the Paco Rabanne ad copy. “Vibrant and sensual. Lady Million is like a voluptuous nectar of flowers. Powerfully seductive, the sparkle of bitter orange and a hint of raspberry reveals the fragrance’s first breath. Smooth and bright, a burst of neroli follows. Then the lethal weapon: heady orange blossom slips out of its sheath. Its narcotic sweetness then reveals itself, bewitching and demanding all attention. Joining with sambac jasmine and underlined by gardenia, the blend soars into something more carnal– yet ever subtle. Now the obsessive pulsing of patchouli enters the fray, pacifying notes of honey with an addictive and supremely tempting sweetness. Amber endnotes become all enveloping, floating around like a ray of light on a diamond.”
Oh, and if you were wondering what it actually smells like: a syrupy jasmine that leans towards cough syrup. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go unsheath my orange blossom and pacify some honey notes. You know how crazy they can get.