So here’s the thing about Prada Candy: it is a terribly light fragrance. So light, in fact, that you might be tempted to spray to excess. That’s what happened with my first, unfavorable review of Prada Candy. As it turns out, overspraying Candy brings out the worst aspects of the fragrance. It becomes heavy, chokingly powdery, and has a distinct play-dough vibe. Much like its namesake, Candy is clearly intended to be enjoyed in moderation.
I have spent a good deal of time with Prada Candy since that first review, and I now find it to be a gorgeous gourmand. Candy is a warm, cuddly vanilla fragrance imbued with that Prada sophistication in the form of a benzoin base. Despite the name, Candy’s sweetness is worlds away from its sugary perfume neighbors on the department store shelves. A saleswoman at Nordstrom told me that Prada Candy is “selling itself”, and for once I am pleased to say that a popular mainstream fragrance is worthy of its success.
I have not, however, changed my opinion on that stupid propellor bottle. It is still really, really silly-looking.