Ça Sent Beau Kenzo Kenzo

Ça Sent Beau emerges as a studied paradox: a fragrance that tries to be everything at once, yet commits fully to none. Françoise Caron has constructed a floral architecture of genuinely impressive ambition—gardenia and tuberose form a creamy, almost buttery core, whilst jasmine and lily of the valley weave in bright, slightly peppery counterpoints. The peach and mandarin opening attempts to lighten what could easily become cloying, though the spice accord (dominated by coriander and caraway) lends an almost savoury edge that prevents the florals from becoming simply pretty.

What's peculiar is the fragrance's refusal to settle into a coherent narrative. The sandalwood and orris root in the heart should anchor everything into something distinctive, yet they seem to dissolve into the tuberose's insistent creaminess rather than commanding space. There's a chypre structure attempting to assert itself—oakmoss and patchouli hint at the 1980s tradition—but it never quite solidifies. Instead, you get a floral blur with spiced edges.