Scentbird, Inc., New York, NY 10001
Mad Madame description
If you are already a fan of Juliette’s anti-perfumes, such as their intimate new release, Anyway, or the sheer and transparent Not a Perfume, Mad Madame will take you on entirely different journey.
Mad Madame is a somber, heady and almost gothic evening perfume with an eclipsed moonlight profile. There are only three notes: a metallic rose, darkly ripe black currants, and a thin veneer of frosted ambroxan. The roses have a brandy-soaked heaviness, and the currants burst with sweet, sugary licorice-scented liqueur. It’s almost as if this scent should be poured from a cut crystal decanter rather than sprayed.
Mad Madame also has one of the slowest pulses in perfume; its slyly overindulgent layers of roses and currants bloom, wilt and burst in an endless, airless moment that doesn’t fade or alter for hours on the skin. This perfume wants to transfix and derail you. The intimacy it offers is mesmerizing and dream-like; an opium den’s thick, faded velvet curtain swinging wide to admit one more happy sleeper.
The reverie doesn’t end until deep into the drydown phase, when at last the ambroxan asserts itself. You finally awaken from the narcotic stupor and take your first deep breath. Yet that gorgeous, frozen moment of blooming and bursting stays addictively coiled in your consciousness even as this perfume fades out. The petals are forever unfurling and falling, the currant buds stretching and spilling their sweet liquid into your senses, until the outside world can pry you away with the tireless demands of gravity.