Poison - Christian Dior

Poison is perhaps the fragrance that best typifies the 80’s, and I’m sitting here with an genuine vial of the juice circa 1986 that my mother bought on her honeymoon 3 years before I was even conceived. It certainly wasn’t an easy artefact to get my mitts on, it took 3 days of dedicated pleading to obtain the stuff, but here it is, centre stage on my nightstand: 50mls of indigo hued Dior retro chic. Only down side: I’m not allowed to wear it indoors for risk of causing migraines to all those nearby.

Taking a whiff of the fragrance in it’s bottle, I can almost taste the rich herbaceous quality of the coriander and, even when prepared to smell a headache inducing strength perfume, I’m taken aback. The scent seems not to simply emanate fumes, but liquify any air nearby down to a syrupy fug. When I apply a little to my wrist the intense headiness is only exacerbated by my body heat and if you do happen to be at all squeamish about fragrance, I’d wager this would be the point when you would head to the bathroom to scrub yourself Poison-free. Luckily I’m blessed with a constitution that can stomach potent scents, but in the July heat even I struggle to not feel smothered by the fragrance. That said, it is a delectable aroma. The fragrance opens with a deep, ripe berry niff that gives the scent a pleasing depth without any candy sweetness. The all spice and anise in the composition begin to appear within the first few minutes, peppering the fruit with a less than subtle spicy heat that keeps things nice and smoky (if you’re looking for your next summer spritzer, AVOID).

The vanilla bubbles up unusually quickly for a heart note but has excellent staying power, heroically outlasting every other ingredient whilst not overpowering the entire ensemble. It’s a fairly milky-sweet vanilla note in Poison, very cleverly implemented to add contrast to the slightly piquant heat of the spices. The melding and parallelism of these 2 edges of the olfactory triangle creates a wonderful sense that Poison is indeed a potion created with true alchemy, not just another store bought perfume.

Somewhat disappointingly, the scent lightens just slightly after around an hour, still retaining it’s headiness but shedding a little of it’s smoky weight. That said, it does hold up it’s vanillic spice very well whilst subtly introducing a smooth sandalwood note that feels distinguishable even against the plethora of other scents knocking about Poison’s repertoire. The wood dries things up, leaving the moist fruits well and truly behind but encompassing the spice well. The dusty spicy blend in the drydown feels relaxed and easy yet still holds a vague pungency without which, Poison wouldn’t be Poison.

Dior’s 80’s powerhouse tells the story of a good night out. There’s the juicy anticipation, the rich, dark decadence of the bars and the calm yet sensual haziness of the 6am romp between the sheets. It is what it is, so wear it boldly, wear it seductively, but most importantly, don’t wear it around your mother, she may get flashbacks.