Consulted a perfume blog and found out that you could actually find out the version of the scent by looking at the bottom of the glass container: this one being 5V02.
The first time I used it last week, I think I made the mistake of spritzing myself twice, instead of just once – which made it all the more potent.
My first impression of Dior Homme Intense Eau de Parfum on myself? At first, I would say it smells deceptively common, seemingly less serious – but after its introduction, it reveals itself as intense and vigorously intoxicating.
Only after taking pictures of the bottle did I notice the imprint of the bee on the box. Suddenly the metaphor made sense – but I am getting ahead of myself.
What made it somewhat familiar, at first smell, I would guess must be due to the short-lived lavender.
But then the scent stays on for hours – only then was I able to deduce its enduring charms.
Depending on your emotions when you first spritz it on – it can be revolting at first, as when someone who has a forceful voice disturbs the peace in a room, but it grows on you – the same way when after actually listening to what that person has got to say, you realize that he not only makes sense, but you’d also like to be in his company a little bit longer, just to hear both the sound of his voice and make sense of his ideas. Maybe even open yourself to the possibility of falling in love.
You can’t help but feel intrigued at the complexity, until you are finally captivated – hook, line, and sinker.
What made me swoon? Dior Homme Intense has a Tuscan iris top note, which smells a bit powdery. Some would call it the “lipstick note” because there is a hint of femininity. Mixed with the gourmand smell of Ecuadorian ambrette seed – which smells like cocoa and vanilla – the eau de parfum takes on a sickly sweet character.
This gives way to its base note, a woody Virginia cedar, which makes it endlessly riveting. As with all the scents that I like, it is both feminine and masculine, sensitive and strong. Here’s to more days and nights and languid afternoons in yet another monogamous olfactory relationship.