Paco Rabanne
A unique visual signature based on accords, character, and seasonality
The cinnamon hits with surprising aggression—hot, slightly medicinal, like Red Hots dissolving on your tongue—whilst the mandarin tries valiantly to brighten the edges with its tart, syrupy sweetness. It's sticky-fingered and unabashedly gourmand from the first spray, the spice accord creating an almost numbing warmth on the skin.
The shisha tobacco unfurls with its honeyed, date-like richness, thick and intoxicating, whilst the myrrh adds a balsamic depth that keeps this from tipping into pure confectionery. There's an ambery glow building here, resinous and golden, as if the sweetness has been filtered through incense smoke and aged in oak.
Tonka bean takes over entirely, that coumarinic, hay-like sweetness now tempered by patchouli's earthy darkness. What remains is a skin-close veil of caramelised wood and soft spice, sweetness that's been worn in, less shouting and more murmuring into the collar of your coat.
1 Million Privé takes the brash, nightclub swagger of its predecessor and drapes it in velvet. This is what happens when you swap the glittering synthetics for the dim glow of a members-only bar—all burnished mahogany and leather banquettes, where the smoke hangs thick and sweet. The cinnamon here isn't the dusty ground spice from your kitchen cupboard; it's red-hot and resinous, sparking against the citrus oil of red mandarin that's been caramelised almost to the point of bitterness. But the real alchemy happens when myrrh weaves through the shisha tobacco, that narcotic, fruity-dark tobacco accord that smells less like cigarettes and more like sticky molasses and dried apricots smouldering on coals. The tonka bean absolute in the base isn't just "creamy vanilla"—it's dense, almost burnt around the edges, with an almond-like richness that the patchouli underscores with earthy, chocolate-tinged shadows. This is a scent for someone who's moved beyond trying to impress everyone in the room, content instead to draw in only those close enough to catch the smoky sweetness lingering on a cashmere scarf. It's late-night louche, best worn when the heating's on and winter presses against the windows, when you want to smell expensive without smelling clean.
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3.9/5 (154)