Perfume, Reviews

Insta-Review: Lancôme Idôle 

I wish I could say I got my hands on Idôle early because Lancôme thought I was the second most influential person on the Interweb after Zendaya (face of Idôle and my biconfounding girl crush whenever she wears a blazer or tuxedo jacket on HBO’s Euphoria), but truth is I got it on presale. I burn with the fangirl fire of a thousand Stans—err, suns—for Shyamala Maisondieu’s work, so I had to smell what this was all about. Quelle surprise, I like it!

Idôle is a fruity floral with pear, sustainably sourced rose, and jasmine with a white musk/patchouli/cedar base the marketing calls a “clean chypre,” and I…

…so sorry. I had to stop my eyes from rolling away.

Anyways, this blog’s called Ode de Parfum, not Semantics, so rather than risk carpal tunnel over a lack of oakmoss, I’ll enjoy Idole for what it is: a hoot of a 21st-century twist on the stalwart mall scent.

I bet it was a helluva drug to cash in your babysitting money at Belk for CK One, Tommy Girl, or Electric Youth by Debbie Gibson, but I never got to be a teenage girl during the height of Mall Mania, and I’m haunted by that. Thankfully there was a Starcourt Mall shopping montage in Stranger Things 3, and now there’s Idole, which smells like Robin Sparkles’ “Let’s Go to the Mall”. The pear is mouthwateringly fresh, and the floral heart has a 25¢-candy-dispenser sweetness that pops like big wads of bright red bubblegum. This old crone cackled to feel so Bubbleyum young again. And that “clean chypre”? It’s a soft, strange, scrubbed-clean patchouli like an off-white shadow: light enough for youthful optimism but dark enough for puberty’s uneasy hurricane of angst. It’s the lie and the truth of what it is to be a teenager.

Sure, I feel like Steve “How do you do, fellow kids?” Buscemi in a Hannah Montana wig wearing it, but who cares? Shyamala Maisondieu, Adriana Medina, and Nadège Le Garlantezec have infused what could’ve been another tired bit of post-Coco Mademoiselle inbreeding with uncommon intelligence and humor. Idôle may not smell revolutionary, but I’m charmed by it’s fruity floral proof that the future is femme and female, and after all: every revolution’s gotta start somewhere.

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