I am quicksilver, the fox in the night, emotional about the poetry, love & desire in scent, read me.
Sunday, 4 March 2012
Pageant Crack: ‘Princess Night’ by Vera Wang
all glimpsed the surreal and saccharine images of toddlers spinning and
glittering on gaudy little catwalks. It exerts a weird and sugary if unhealthy
fascination, the competitive moms, the terrifying razzmatazz and the channeling
of frustrated dreams. But there is a terrible pathos too; echoes of lost prom
nights, endless evenings spent gazing at TV movies, dreaming of stardom. All of
this focused ruthlessly into preening and disturbingly garbed tots knocking
back go-go juice before parading for trophy after trophy cheered on by air-punching
moms. So it felt incredibly weird when I smelt the new Vera Wang Princess Night, all I could think of was
so-called pageant crack…the now
infamous go-go juice…sugar and dizzying sweetness and an unsettling poisoned
darkness; this closed little world of suspended sequined belief and frustrated
dreams. Scent rocks the mind in some strange and surreal ways.
Princess Night is pitched a few notches above the other Princess
offerings. They have all been tooth aching sweet and somewhat disposable. But,
my defenses are down; I’m a little out of love with niche just now, bored with
high concept and art-house fragranced pretention. I go through phases like
this. I just want something to drown in. Britney’s Circus Fantasy was an awesome find, glow in the dark raspberry and
porny lip-gloss lip locking. The spray and go equivalent of the richly
saturated imagery of Mert & Marcus, dripping models and poreless skins.
Dolce & Gabbana’s Roue de la Fortune
was another guilty pleasure, a little more Miles Aldridge, all pina colada rush
and plastic jasmine, glossed up flesh lit against stained and dripping walls. Trash
is about subversion and transgression. Pushing the unexpected. Hardly anyone I
know expects me to rock up in Princess
Night, hence the fun and sexiness in wearing it.
I loved all
the controversy about the so-called pageant crack or go-go juice, supposedly
poured down the little things before they went on. A mix of Red Bull and
Mountain Dew, a popular fizzy drink, it buzzed them and then caused massive tantrum
crashes. I watched the scary tinseled Honey Boo Boo swigging back on a bottle
and then strutting her sequined pinkified stuff. Car crash TV at its best.
Princess Night has heady gulping qualities, swigging
addictive top notes, ubiquitous wild berries, raspberries and a strange
watermelon note that for a moment smells startlingly real then shatters into sherbet
and cream. It is a little grimy and
smudged as it settles. The kisses more serious, less tweenie, more emotional,
more intense. With just a hint of angst.
ingredients are a roll call of the usual suspects of the neon gourmand: sugar,
vanilla and fruits. But the arrangement and management of the notes, the
glitter of raspberry, the drip of watermelon is rather impressive. The descent
into spiked prom night punch notes of spiced orange and corsage jasmine and
rose is weirdly smooth and controlled. There is a tired tantrum kick out to the
drydown, a faint slamming door, and a teenage pout of a fade that I couldn’t
help but like.
niched out just now and Princess Night
caught me. It’s like my weakness for Christina Aguilera ballads; I know they
should not make me emotional, but hey they do.
bathed in Princess Night’s My Little
Pony glow for a while. It was like being a teen again, being incredibly angry
and shouty, no-one listening or understanding a chest full of pain. Yet feeling
deeply sad and childlike at the same time. Curling up on your bed with a light
on, imagining it was a fire on a beach and a boy was whispering your name in
the flickering glow.
quite addictive without really knowing why. A passing infatuation. The pale and
lovely boy on a bike you see one morning as you hurry to work, the shy girl
looking up from her coffee and a second-hand copy of The Great Gatsby. I was hooked to my own skin for hours. Was it too
girly, was it even appropriate? It had at its heart that lovely cereal warmth I
adore in my beloved Lann Ael by
glitter rolled heart shaped bottle is a little cheap and like Honey Boo Boo’s
eye-watering ensembles, probably best viewed with half-closed eyes. The
so-called pageant crack of Red Bull and Mountain Dew fires up the little tots
to spin and sparkle till they crash and burn amid a hyper real universe of
competitive surrealism. So the bottle is probably just right.
a time and place for all things. We all have guilty crushes. Films we know are
rubbish but laugh and cry at anyway. Disposable pop is its own shimmering art,
perfect for forgetful nights as you wander home after stressful workdays. There
are days when high art, conceptualism, art-house cinema, laborious lit etc.
just irritates and bores me. I’ve been watching London Fashion Week recently
and been sooooooo bored by the so-called clothes walking up and down the
runways. A lot of print and virtual space has been taken up with discussing
London’s return to form, the dynamism, the edginess, and the forwardness. I
disagree. It was dull, repetitive, gaudy and actually rather ugly. Swinging
between the starry bourgeois acceptance of Burberry Prorsum and Mulberry to the
frankly hideous ramblings of Meadham Kirchoff and dull cocktail revisitations
of Stella McCartney.
I get so
tired of archness. It permeates all levels of consumerism these days. Perfumery
is no exception. More and more Houses are toying with abstraction and over-elaborate
thematics. The true nature of fragrance, the emotion, the style, the connection
to ourselves, our past and our collective memories is being overshadowed in a
desire to persuade us that we can wear scent like art, we are potential galleries
and can become ‘display’ and ‘interaction’.
the relief of liberally applying neon-tastic scent and feeling sensually sinful
is rather joyful. The fact that it smells fucking great is of course a bonus. Princess Night has all the exhilarating
rush of pageant crack, a fabulous ride of scintillating fairground sweetness, a
nighttime ride on the waltzer trying to shout love to someone next to you. Drowning
in fruits, vanilla and sugar and holding on tight as the spinning night kicks
where are my sequins……?
For more info on the Vera Wang Princess line, click below: