The occasional prudery of Japan can be quite interesting. While Shinjuku, where the main government buildings are located, is a major shopping and restaurant and entertainment hub, it is also the very epicentre of the Asian sex and pornography trade, very shady indeed (also the place where I smelled this perfume, incidentally, at the venerable, packed to the rafters Isetan department store in Kabukicho). You cannot actually escape sexual imagery in Japan. Girlie mags with big boobs about to pop out of bras stare out from every convenience store you go to, in stations and wherever else – unavoidable to the eyes, kids included – and massage parlours that give sexual services – ‘soaplands’, where tired businessmen can slip in quickly after work to get a bit of ‘relief’ – are unambiguously there on street corners in almost every town or city, sometimes in great proliferation (usually euphemistically known as ‘Fashion Health’ centres, there is not a great deal of taboo attached to going to them). No one bats an eyelid. Compared to the Godfearing West, Japan is actually pretty open about the human need for a bit of how’s-yer-father. And yet the word ‘sex’ has been redacted and censored for the Japanese release of Tom Ford’s Vanilla Sex, pasted out of the bottle with a red dash that in my opinion completely ruins the whole point of the whole charade, not to mention the aesthetic of the bottle. Couldn’t they at least have done it in cream?
Not that there is anything pornographic or even vaguely erotic about this perfume. Unless you are a feeder, that unusual sexual phenomenon where a very skinny guy gets all worked up into a frenzy about making his gigantic girlfriend overeat and gorge to his frenzied satisfaction. But each to their own. The smell of this, though. Both of us thought it was revolting.
Vom, as we recoiled instinctively from the Tom Ford counter.
Obviously intended to be a ‘naughty’ play on the idea of ‘vanilla sex’, ie. sex that is bland and unadventurous, not involving what I personally find to be the exceedingly tedious necessity of whips and chains and leather masks and harnesses and god knows what else in order to get a boner: for me, no equipment is necessary: just a person and a body and the urge; no orgy with twenty five people, some rubberized or intricately lacy lingerie (hideous!),; lizards, a mankini, being spanked or humiliated or beaten, hung upside down, fed through a tube, or whatever else is necessary to get you off, the ‘vanilla’ type – which is probably me – is occasionally the object of ridicule, as it is here for Tom Ford. I suppose this is understandable. The standard missionary position, known in Japan as the maguro, or tuna, is a famously boring marital or otherwise encounter where nobody moves very much, especially the lady underneath, dissatisfied and probably thinking about tomorrow night’s dinner during the whole process while making all the right noises as her husband grunts away … …sex is of course a complicated issue for many people. There are many varieties. Some need extra-curriculars: I am not judging. It is kind of funny, though (deliberate?) that the perfume ‘Vanilla Sex’, itself, is also in fact rather deathly dull – quite the Plain Jane or John Doe, really, while also simultaneously being as gut-rottingly sweet as a Tokyo Tower bestriding Godzilla-sized blob of playdoh.
The problem here isn’t necessarily the natural vanillas (a specially curated ‘Vanilla Tincture India’; Vanilla Absolute, and the Vanilla CO 2 extract all allegedly in the blend); though it might be the fake sandalwood in the base, or a synthetic called Ultravanil greasing up the proceedings like Mrs Margarine that produce the pit in the stomach problematics. It definitely is the very wrongful bitter almond in the opening, though, a very excessive addendum that tips the whole thing inexorably into gross.
Later, the vanillaggeddon dies down into a whispering soft banality that befits the idea of the standardized copulation Tom Ford is mocking with his mischievous perfume (I also smelled the ‘devil’ to this perfume’s angel yesterday, Vanilla Fatale, a darker, woodier number, but it didn’t make much of an impression on me, either to be honest). I was just bored. Certainly, neither makes me feel remotely horny -for me that would be more likely to be middle aged moustachioed Mexicans with big di – but perhaps I should stop there. Suffice it to say, I will not be rushing out any time soon to the iniquitous bowels of Shinjuku any time soon to be forking out ￥50,000 for a bottle of this sickening muck.
I guess I’m just too vanilla.
I sampled it twice and really like it so far…I think I was in the right space for that type of vanilla at that time. But it felt like its a level better then Billy Eilish’s vanilla but not deserving to command that price point. It’s still very expensive on discounters. Might have to go for a decant.
You liked that opening? !!!!!!!
I don’t think I could get past that to actually allow it onto my skin. Way too sickly (but I will admit my second sniff yesterday from the bottle was better than my first big spray on a paper card encounter).
Maybe there is more to this than meets the eye.
So the strange thing is…it was subtly sweet to me. I don’t know if it was the weather or the sweat on my skin but it was perfect lol. I was perfume sniffing around that day so could have played a role in my perception. I made the SA do double sprays on my hand too. A decant should tell the truth.
I mean everyone knows I love (d?) vanilla. But this felt like the final death knell to me.
We shall see!
It reminded me of Starbucks cake pops which taste and smell like playdoh to me. I’m not a fan of Tom Ford in general. Off hand, I can only think of a few from the Orchid line, Beau De Jour and Moss Breches that I kinda like – that’s about it. I can’t list one that I love, though.
Oh! I was rummaging yesterday and found a bottle of Cabotine by Grès and had myself a nice giggle fit. I actually remember buying it, too. My habit of buying things just because they’re green has stayed with me through the years. Man, I loved that cap. I thought it was so fancy.
When I started buying things for my new house I haven’t found yet, my friend asked why I wasn’t buying any colors for my kitchen. Most things are just white, square, hammered copper and some dark wood floating shelves. I said my color was green. She’s like, “where?” I said, “..my plants, stupid.” I’d actually decided on no colors because it’s more versatile and I can decorate for holidays I don’t celebrate without any potential color clashing.
Once I do find a place; I have a storage unit full of brand new things so it will be like the Christmas I don’t celebrate when I get to open all of the new presents I bought for me. 😁
Anyway, would love to hear your thoughts on all things Iris. Specifically Iris without it being sabotaged by that filthy whore, Violet, pretty please.
I’m a major vanilla slut but Vanille Fatale was completely uninteresting, and this one was, well, creepy.
But then, I haven’t smelled an interesting Tom Ford in years. Back in the Midnight Garden days he put out some lovely scents, but even the ones from back then that have been reissued in the Private Collection line are now bad. I think that after TF sold the company, the perfumes became just a money grab.
Yes it must be that. Quite clever really on the part of whoever bought them, because they all look the same. I did like Tubereuse Nue though.
Those Mexicans had big dinners of course!
Most TF Private line whatnots bore me shitless.
OG Velvet Gardenia, Santal Blush, Moss Brechs & Jasmin Rouge are spinning in their collective lab bottles somewhere at these recent inane releases & reformulations. TF hasn’t released anything stunning since the much mourned Plum Japonais.
Puerile names for puerile perfumes
Plum Japonais! Yes, I always wished I had got one of those. I used to love Jasmin Rouge as well but it didn’t smell quite up to scratch when I sniffed it the other day.
Selling out is a shame.
A pal that works at a department store in San Francisco actually brought me samples of these.
I was equally unimpressed.
Vanilla Sex = stale marzipan, play doh, and vanillin
Vanilla Fatale = yawn
A rich, balsamic vanilla over a gorgeous, real Mysore sandalwood would be sexy enough for me.
Is that too much to ask?
No.
This post was hilarious! However, I am in perfect agreement with you regarding the perfume. Even though I have never tried it, and at one time many decades ago, I loved and owned lots of Tom Ford perfumes, I haven’t bought one nor smelled any of these new and outrageously expensive creations. I still have some of his original ones, which are the only ones I wear.
You definitely don’t need this one!
Glad you had a laugh: I couldn’t help myself.
Much merriment! I’ve got a cold and it hurts when I laugh so you did literally make my sides ache. Particularly love the playdoh xx
Glad to warm you up with a bit of cheer. Hope you feel better. x