Paco Rabanne
A unique visual signature based on accords, character, and seasonality
That mango hits like a spotlight—bright, sweet, and determinedly synthetic, with an almost chalky texture that coats the nose. The bergamot flickers briefly at the edges, a half-hearted attempt at freshness before surrendering to the fruit's aggressive sweetness.
Jasmine emerges with its characteristic indolic richness, whilst frankincense adds an unexpected gravitas—smoky, resinous, and faintly medicinal. These two create an intriguing dissonance against the persistent mango-vanilla sweetness, like incense burning in a candy shop, neither element willing to fully yield.
The composition settles into a creamy, vanillic haze where sandalwood provides quiet backbone rather than starring role. What remains is a soft, sweet skin scent with faint wisps of that opening synthetic fruit still clinging on, refusing to disappear entirely.
Fame arrives as a deliberate provocation—a fragrance that takes the expected tropical sweetness of mango and twists it into something altogether more artificial and compelling. This is mango refracted through a synthetic lens, amplified and glossed until it gleams with an almost plastic intensity. The bergamot barely registers beyond a fleeting citric shimmer before that assertive fruit takes centre stage, backed by a vanilla that reads less as gourmand comfort and more as industrial-strength sweetener. When jasmine and frankincense finally surface, they create a fascinating tension: the indolic floralcy of jasmine collides with incense's smoky solemnity, yet both feel strangely muted beneath that relentless sweet-fruity canopy. The sandalwood provides structural support rather than creamy warmth, its presence more textural than olfactory. What emerges is a fragrance for those who find traditional fruity florals too timid, too tasteful. This is for the person who wants their sweetness served with a side of challenge, who appreciates when a perfume stops trying to smell "natural" and instead leans into its synthetic nature with unabashed confidence. It's clubbing at 2am with sticky floors and neon lights, or perhaps the olfactory equivalent of a holographic handbag—deliberately artificial, unexpectedly chic, and entirely unapologetic about what it is. Not for the faint of heart or those seeking subtlety, Fame demands you meet it on its own uncompromising terms.
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3.9/5 (94)