As always, my Reviews en Bref are for perfumes that — for whatever reason — didn’t seem to warrant a full, exhaustive, detailed analysis.
Dzing! is an eau de toilette fragrance from L’Artisan Parfumeur which seeks to evoke the circus. The woody scent was launched in 1999 and created by the highly respected perfumer, Olivia Giacobetti. The company describes it as follows:
This shockingly unique fragrance, created by Olivia Giacobetti, Dzing! is a magical evocation of a circus of dreams and imagination. Everything is soft hued and slow moving, sights and sounds rolling by in the Big Top. Everything is there, the scent of saddle leather as pretty girls on horses canter by, sawdust, the rosin on the acrobats’ hands as they arc through the air, black panther fur, fire-eaters and gasoline, the vintage canvas overhead, the caramel scent of candyfloss and toffee apples. The circus as conceived by L’Artisan Parfumeur, comforting but contrasted with the occasional roar tearing through the night.
The most complete list of notes for Dzing! (which I shall call “Dzing” for the sake of convenience) comes from Fragrantica which mentions:
leather, ginger, tonka bean, musk, white woods, caramel, saffron, toffee, candy apple and cotton candy.
Dzing opens on my skin as rubbing-alcohol, candy apple. Seconds later, it explodes into a sharply synthetic cloud of artificial notes: white cotton candy fluff; dry dust; cheap leather; cheap caramel; cloying, cheap vanilla; and amorphous, cheap, synthetic gourmand notes. I’ve smelled better things a 99 Cent Store. I cannot imagine a scenario outside of testing where I’d wear Dzing for longer than a minute without shrieking.
The truly repellant aspect is in the revolting alcohol undertones and the cheap, pink, “Made in China” plastic aspect to all the artificial, laboratory-made notes. It’s as if the Mad Scientist infected the body of P.T. Barnum with a plan for world domination through olfactory torture. As the moments pass, the cheap Chinese, mass-produced, pink plastic note rises in prominence, as does the vanilla and the overall shrill cacophony of fakeness. This may be absolutely one of the worst things I’ve smelled in a while. I’m taken back to Tijuana, Mexico, and one of the cheap, tourist shops which sell tiny, plastic dolls, plastic shoes, and every possible hodge-podge of plastic tchotchkes. I wouldn’t object to a well-executed gourmand take on the smells of a circus, but the sheer deluge of cheap plastic and synthetics goes too far. Yes, I realise that almost every word out of my mouth includes the word “cheap” or “plastic,” but you have simply no idea how terrible Dzing smells. $145 for this? It would be easier to roll around naked on the industrial, synthetic carpeting in one of those 99 Cent stores that reek of fake vanilla, cheap apple-caramel candles, and, yes, PLASTIC.
Dzing must be a joke, right? Not a tongue-in-cheek, sweetly winking, happy, positive tease but, rather, a malicious, nefarious, completely sadistic joke created by an anti-social nihilist who intends to fumigate his victims while making a symbolic statement on the decline of Western civilisation, the corruption and decadence of capitalistic ventures like expensive perfumery, and the stupidity of those who think that the Emperor is wearing clothes. People, the Emperor is naked! NAKED! I’m not going to comment any further on this Ionesco-worthy, Absurdist, olfactory scheme to make me lose my mind.
Dzongkha is an eau de toilette fragrance created by Bertrand Duchaufour and inspired by the remote Buddhist mountain kingdom of Bhutan in the eastern Himalayas. L’Artisan describes it as follows:
Rich with aromatic influences: temple stones and incense, the sweet aroma of spiced chai tea, the heat of warm leather around fires, the heart of any temple or home in snowbound lands. Vetiver and green papyrus float through soft smoke with touches of peony, lychee and delicate iris. Dzongkha tells a special story on every skin: that of Dzongkha itself, the spiritual language of Bhutan.
On Fragrantica, Dzongkha is classified as a “woody spicy” fragrance and its notes are:
Top notes are peony, cardamom and litchi; middle notes are spices, white tea, vetiver, incense and cedar; base notes are leather, iris and papyrus.
Dzongkha opens with an unpleasant note of sharp incense. It’s not smooth, rich or soothing incense, but alcohol-like, bracing, and pungent. It is followed immediately by spices, predominantly cardamom, with what also feels like saffron, too. There are dry paper notes from the papyrus that evoke the feeling of an old book. Peony swirls in the background along with leather and tea notes.
The incense note is the key to much of Dzongkha’s early start. It is odd in its bracing bitterness and unbelievably desiccated. In combination with the papyrus, the overall effect is that of dust — whether a very old library or an abandoned church. Either way, it’s not enormously pleasant. Slowly, slowly, the cardamom heats up, warming the scent a little. Now, Dzongkha feels like cardamom-infused dust, atop a sharp, synthetic, incense note that burns a little. The whole thing is very airy, sheer and lightweight in feel, with low projection, and, yet, it is quite a strong scent in the beginning. I chalk it up to the synthetic undertone to the incense.
Thirty minutes in, Dzongkha has turned into cardamom dust with acrid incense, tea, spicy woods, and general earthy notes atop a growing base of leather. There is a light smattering of abstract florals flittering about in the background. The peony accord is muted and does little to alleviate the arid nature of the perfume. As time passes, the latter just gets worse and by the 90 minute mark, Dzongkha has turned into the most revoltingly bitter leather, vetiver and smoke fragrance. It is a veritable dust bowl of pungent, acrid dryness. At the same time, it also feels rancid and dark green — a bit like the moments in the legendary leather perfume, Bandit, from Robert Piguet with its deluge of sharply bitter, pungent galbanum and cold black leather. Yet, Dzongkha is a thousand times dryer, thanks to the incense note. I cannot believe how closely it replicates actual household dust, only in piles and heaps.
Dzongkha continues to change with time. By the start of the fourth hour, it is soapy, dark vetiver with bitter smoke, black leather and dust. It is still acrid and abrasively bitter — and I still can’t stand it. Midway into the fifth hour, the soapy element increases and takes on a sharply synthetic, dry, bitter incense accord. The combination smells extremely similar to that in another Bertrand Duchaufour incense creation for L’Artisan Parfumeur: Passage d’Enfer. I hated the latter, so I didn’t enjoy the overlap. In fact, my misery rose exponentially with every minute of Dzongkha’s sharply acrid, cloyingly soapy, painfully dust-like, and perpetually synthetic evolution. In its final moments, Dzongkha was just some amorphous soapy musk. All in all, it lasted 7 hours — all of them unpleasant, when they weren’t complete misery.
Testing Dzing and Dzongkha in the same day — even if the Dzing was only a few hours long — was an incredibly painful ordeal. For all that Dzing was mind-bogglingly terrible, it didn’t actually bring me down and make me feel low the way the incredibly unpleasant Dzongkha did. Really bad perfume experiences can feel almost oppressive, and Dzongkha certainly felt that way. I know it has its admirers, people who find its incense, spices and leather to be pleasant, even relaxing at times. All I can say is that I’m happy for you if it works. For myself, I’d like to forget this day entirely.
For two fragrances that aren’t worthy of full analysis, you certainly wrote a detailed description of how much you hate them. I know fragrance is highly subjective, but your reviews read more like angry, unedited rants than sober critiques. I find “Dzing” to be an acquired taste, but I would never say it smells of cheaply made ingredients. As for it being made of artificial essences, since when is this an issue in modern perfumery? As for “Dzonkha”, I’m just finishing up my bottle of it, so I am a fan if this fragrance. I would only say to your readers to smell these fragrances for themselves and not to rely on you very biased reviews.
I am glad you enjoy the perfumes. As for sober critiques, I save that for perfumes that are worthy of it in my, naturally, subjective opinion. Read any of my other perfume reviews and you will see even greater detail, as well as a full assessment of the pros/cons of each perfume. Whether those are sober critiques, you can be the judge. These particular perfumes, however, did not, in my opinion, deserve any treatment beyond that which I gave to them.
That said, it is always nice to hear from the other side, so thank you for stopping by and sharing your opinion.
I have read your other reviews, which I’ve enjoyed very much. That’s why I was so surprised to read these two reviews, which were written in such a clearly biased, disparaging, evem mocking style. I suppose I believe that if a fragrance is worth writing about, be it beautiful or foul to the critic, that it should be assessed in the same manner. Your take is that Dzing! and Dzonkha don’t deserve such treatment and on that I would disagree.
That being said, I look forward to reading your critiques and using your site as a reference on fragrance.
I will be candid, Mr. Glass. These perfumes both made me angry. In different ways, and for different reasons, but the effect on my skin was truly unpleasant. All strongly negative emotions are — by definition — clearly biased, so you are correct in assessing these particular reviews as such. And, yes, I was mocking. I usually am not, so it is a sign of just how terribly these perfumes were on my skin for me to abdicate my normal style. It doesn’t happen often, but it does happen on rare occasions. 🙂
There is a definite point in your comment about writing perfume reviews in an objective style, be it beautiful or foul to the critic. But, honestly, I think that perfume is too emotional an issue for feelings, passions, love, hatred or even disparagement to be kept at bay. For me, perfume is not akin to writing about, say, cars or the aesthetics of architecture. It’s something that is perhaps biologically associated with our deepest nature, a short-circuit to the brain and heart, a conduit to our primordial essence, in a way. So, it is something that — for me, at least — is impossible to write about with full objectivity, except perhaps when I’m completely indifferent to a fragrance.
You are probably correct that Dzing! and Dzongkha deserved more measured, more purely analytical treatment, the way I try to do for other fragrances. I’m afraid I simply couldn’t do it here. Something about them short-circuited all my natural tendencies. But I will make you a deal, Mr. Glass. I will try to do better in the future in terms of keeping the disparagement and mockery under restraint when I truly, truly hate something. You’re right in noting that I can do better. 🙂
As a side note, thank you for taking the time to come back, to reply in depth, to explain your position, and to do so always with great civility. We may have different perspectives on these two fragrances, but I value your thoughtful responses, and I look forward to getting to know you better.
You can’t imagine how much I thoroughly enjoyed reading these reviews, which are brilliantly hilarious and, for me, spot on: I HATE BOTH AS WELL WITH A PASSION AND HAVE NEVER UNDERSTOOD WHY EVERYONE RATES THEM SO HIGHLY!
Who needs that acrid horror?!!
GinzaInTheRain, I’m glad I could make you laugh. You and I can be in the happy minority regarding these scents. 🙂 It sounds as though Dzongkha turned very acrid on your skin, too. As for popularity, I don’t know many people who like Dzing!, and know quite a few who found it loathsome. Dzonghka, on the other hand, certainly has its share of admirers. À chacun son goût, non? 🙂
It doesn’t surprise me any more when I find that you liked the perfume I could barely stand and hated the one I enjoyed testing/wearing, the more surprising became cases when we agree. This post isn’t one of those cases so I’m not surprised. 🙂
But I’m glad that you were angreed by such behemoths as Dzing! and Dzonghka: it’s very amuzing to read your annoyed post (and I know exactly how you feel, I had those emotions about some perfumes) but these two (and L’Artisan in general) won’t suffer much. But I hope it’ll teach future perfumistas to test everything themselves not relying upon the common knowledge.
These two aren’t my favorite perfumes (yet?) but I tested both, liked both and planned to test them more. Now I’ll just have to do it soon to “see” what awful things they did to your nose.
Oh, and Mr. Glass was completely off-base: if to compare this post to your regular reviews one could say it’s almost as if you didn’t publishanything at all 😉
Heh, brevity is indeed a relative concept when it comes to my reviews. 😉 As for these perfumes, even though I know we are usually at polar opposites 90% of the time, I have to admit to being truly surprised that you liked these ones. For other things, no. But for these two? I’m really, genuinely surprised. Clearly, skin chemistry is everything, along with how our brain filters through the things that we smell. 🙂
It was a while since I tested Dzing! so I’ll have to re-test but Dzongkha I tried recently and liked enough to start checking online if I could get it cheaper than a full retail price. I do not do it for every perfume I test so it says something about how much I liked it. Go figure 🙂
Because of their cult following have always meant to sample both but never got around to it…now with the conflicting views from you, Neil and Julia I am even more confused as to whether or not to seek these out and give them a cotton candy whirl!
Well, you always follow Undina’s lead, so you should try them. When you go to New York in June, stop by Barneys which usually carries all the big L’Artistan fragrances (even if Dzing! isn’t listed on their website for some odd reason). At the very least, you’ll get to see what the fuss is about, yay or nay. 🙂
I think Dzing! was marked for discontinuation if I remember correctly . . .
I have a bottle of Dzing! because I won it on twitter. It was never on my to buy list but I had heard all the rave reviews so I was indeed curious. It does smell like a circus. I can’t say that I’m in love with it but I don’t truly hate it like you do. I also have to admit it has gotten compliments when I’ve worn it. My husband (oddly enough) liked it and it got a compliment at work. Most of my scents never get compliments. Sadly, the ones that get the most are never my favorites.
I’m glad you enjoy it and, even better, that you get compliments on it! 🙂 But what a shame that the perfumes which get compliments are never your personal favorites.
I love the high emotional content of your reviews, weather pro or con. When you go south on a fragrance, you do it in such a hilarious fashion . So entertaining! I loved your comment about the naked emperor. I felt that way after sitting through the absolutely horrid movie that garnered such rave reviews, The Master. I wanted to take back those hours I wasted, much as you must have with the two D’s. I find it almost a relief when I read negative reviews, especially Lots of negative reviews of one particular perfume. That is one less I do not feel compelled to try! This review cracked me up! Sorry you had to experience the pain to entertain us. Saves us from the same fate.
Thank you, Tora. It really means a lot to me. 🙂 I don’t usually have quite such a meltdown over perfumes, but these two…
As for “The Master,” you brave, brave woman. Did you last all the way through? I’ve always been fascinated by L. Ron Hubbard and the start of Scientology, so I wanted to see the film, particularly as I adore Phillip Seymour Hoffmann. I lasted about 25 minutes… What a terrible, terrible film. I usually try to stick with something to the bitter end but I just couldn’t do it with that one.
I was at a movie theater with my husband and his brother the theater director. We had heard such great reviews and Phillip Seymour Hoffman and Joachim Phoenix and Amy Adams, it had to be good. Yes, we all stayed to the bitter end, all us us silent in our mutual loathing until the end when I stood up and said “Well, NOW I do feel like killing myself” And I found out that they two hated it as much as I. I believe my husband used the phrase ‘the emperors new clothes’ etc.
etc. We walked out into the lobby and read the big poster promoting the show and the 4 star rating and the ‘best movie ever’ blah blah blah. I said, they must all be on drugs, because that movie was the worst EVER!!
ROFL. “Well, NOW I do feel like killing myself.” Absolutely hilarious. So too was the part about “all of us silent in our mutual loathing.” I really shouldn’t laugh at the abject horror emanating from your words; I know all to well that feeling of being tormented while trapped. But I’m still grinning away. 😉 xoxox
I smelled Dzing! A long time ago, and didn’t like it then. Frankly, if I smelled it again today I am really quite confident I’d like it even less, as I have a much clearer picture of things I like and don’t like. The biggest problem for Dzing! for me was that, love it or hate it, it simply didn’t evoke any of the emotions it sets out to. It’s was mostly dreadfully boring for me, and I do actually concur that for something fairly pricey it can smell a little cheap. Dzongkha I haven’t yet smelled, but I’m not eager because I generally find L’Artisan to be pretty middling in quality and haven’t had anything of theirs really grab me yet.
I remember how much you disliked Dzing! when you tried it and your utter bewilderment. I didn’t quite believe your description at the time, but I do now. LOL.
The idea of objective perfume reviews somewhat entertains me, as I really don’t even think it’s possible…. scent is too emotional and subjective, and sometimes downright reactionary, all based on our own chemistry, life experiences, and sensory perceptions. I actually get confused when I read perfume reviews that don’t express any personal opinion, as emotional response is part of what I’m looking for when I read about perfumes. It doesn’t bother me in the least when people hate perfumes that I love (it better not, being the lover of vintage Opium that I am lol) and find their responses interesting and sometimes very insightful. Likewise about reading perfume reviews of fragrances I hate by people who love them, which has often given me new understanding of what I dislike and allows me to appreciate the perfume even if I can’t personally deal with it.
Thank you for writing with such frankness and honesty, Kafka, I love your reviews! And this one certainly entertained the hell out of me, perhaps especially: “It’s as if the Mad Scientist infected the body of P.T. Barnum with a plan for world domination through olfactory torture. As the moments pass, the cheap Chinese, mass-produced, pink plastic note rise in prominence, as does the vanilla and the overall shrill cacophony of fakeness.”
I did choke on my morning tea a little bit while reading that, heh….
I’m glad I could make you laugh, Cacomixtle. 🙂 I share your thoughts on the importance of reviews having an actual personal opinion and describing an emotional response. Otherwise, one can just turn to Fragrantica to read a list of notes. Perfume is all about feeling, so I find it hard to remove the personal and emotional factors from the equation. And lord knows, both of these two scents triggered a very guttural, visceral response in me. LOL.
So I got a random sample of Dzing with a recent order and felt adventurous today…. man, I didn’t even get cotton candy or circus tricks, all I got was hospital waiting rooms, operating tables, and cheap vinyl fetish masks and an anxiety attack to accompany it all. God, I think that almost made Montale’s Aouds seem nice and safe. Single quickest perfume scrub I’ve ever done, so frantically I felt like I was trying to wash blood off my hands.
I want to say that I often like leather perfumes or those with significant leather notes, especially Cuir Mauresque, Cuir Ottoman, and Ambre Fetiche… but the fake leather/vinyl note that I perceive in Dzing just freaks me out.
I think I’m going to go wash my hands again.
I’m trying not to laugh at your horror, but I must say I’m glad I’m not the only one! It sounds like it turned more vinyl than plastic on you, but I got that alcohol-like undertone to it too. How long did you last until you rushed to scrub? Just think of all the joys that may have awaited you if you’d given it a few more hours….. *ducks and flees* Joking aside, I can never get over how we have almost the exact same reactions to things. It’s a huge comfort not to feel so alone in the madness. LOL.
I was hoping I might at least get to the cotton candy part and be amused, but at the 20 minute mark I couldn’t take it any more and washed it off. Then I went and sprayed myself with Paco Rabanne La Nuit and inhaled the great happiness of honey and vintage civet. 🙂
I pretty much despise plastic and vinyl smells anyway (I can’t even wear most synthetic fabrics, they bother me so much), much less in perfume… I’m so glad I’m not one of those people that tuberose can turn plastic smelling on, ugh.
I do see the humor in the fact that I can’t deal with a very popular perfume like Dzing, but adore huge animalic vintage perfumes that frighten the hell out of most people lol.
Um, isn’t the whole point of a blog so that its author can express views that are PERSONAL and SUBJECTIVE? If I want bland and nondescript, I will read a perfume’slisted notes, and decide whether to learn more about the fragrance. What I want is exactly what you provide, the emotional reaction, good or bad. If someone writes an impersonal review of a fragrance, I assume it will be a boring, mediocre scent. I’m no fan of L’Artisan in general, and neither of these two appealed to me prior to reading your review. But, the review itself? Fabulous! I’m trying to remember the last time I sampled a fragrance that I loathed as much as you despise these. I am impressed you stuck it out for the duration to give them a fair chance. Kudos for that. Iwould have been boiling my arm off to purge myself of the vile stuff.
Thank you for your support, Gretchen. I think Mr. Glass does have a point about not engaging in *quite* such a rant. It’s a fair point. I tended to be quite heated, even by my own standards (and let’s face it, I’m quite blunt on an ordinary day. LOL).
You’re not a fan of the L’Artisan line either? I have to say I’m a little glad because I’ve always felt like quite a weirdo for not being hugely enamoured by them. Only one of them was a hit with me — the gorgeous Safran Troublant — but that dies in 10 minutes on my skin unless I essentially bathe in the fragrance. I know so, so, so many people love L’Artisan fragrances but, thus far….. nothing.
Please, please let me know if you remember the last perfume that you hated passionately and vehemently. I’d love to hear it. It’s always fun to see what scents push a person’s buttons. 🙂 xoxox
Censorship? Guess what, it is YOUR blog after all…and I love it when you’re naughty, Kafka ;-).
Dzing! and Dzongkha just never made an impression on me. I know I’ve tried it several times (at Aedes, Barneys and Henri Bendel [although the L’AP boutique is closing in a few weeks]) and neither induced a hate (and you KNOW I can hate something) nor a “nice! let me get a decant or even an FB”.
I should perhaps be a little less enraged in my naughtiness…. *grin* As for Dzing! and Dzongkha, is nonchalent boredom better or worse than seething hatred? LOL. And am I the only one who mentally says them as Dzing and Dzonga? 😀
When I smelled Dzing! it made me laugh. I like the circus.
Being honest about fragrances is such a rare thing these days. I must admit Kafka, that you are excellent at being honest. This is what its all about – some fragrances one loves, the other ones one hates. Its all part of out fragrance journey. I for one love reading your take on different scents and then compare with mine. That how I learn how to distinguish and appreaciate some notes.
I remember smelling Dzing! couple of years ago and I wasn`t thrilled about it either… Although I love unique creations. I haven`t tested Dzongkha yet but I`ll definitely give it a try asap because i love incense.
Speaking of incense, I had a chance to try TF Sahara Noir yesterday, and its a frankincense bomb. Give it a try if you like frankincense. Although Im not sure why its marketed towards women though… :/
You’re always so kind, Ross. Thank you. I must say, I almost choked at the “you are excellent at being honest.” *grin* Yes, I am a bit … er.. blunt, non? 😉 As for Dzonghka, I’m in a distinct minority, so you should give it a try and see for yourself, particularly if you love incense. On the issue of Sahara Noir, well…. review is up! LOL. I agree, I have absolutely no idea why it is marketed as a women’s fragrance. It is definitely unisex, imo, though I think it may lean a little masculine for some women who are used to more traditional, mainstream ambers given the oud.
I have tried neither and have no plans to unless they fall on my lap somehow. However, I am intrigued as how a perfume can smell like a circus. Does that mean cotton candy and elephant poop combined?? My dear, you write with such passion whether the juice is good or bad which I why i love reading your posts. Keep on keeping on!
Well, on me, it was all circus foods (candy apple, candy floss, caramel, toffee, bad vanilla) but with an artificial and/or plastic-y nature. It was…. *shudder*…. Please don’t make me relive the experience! I’ve only just begun to put it all behind me. 😉 LOL
I love your reviews, seriously. You have such a way with words and imagery that brings the fragrances to life. While I’m a big fan of objectivity (I’m a Libra, after all), I’d rather read your rants and rhapsodies. I can already tell that I probably love fragrances you will not and vice versa, but reading your reviews has expanded my horizons and encouraged me to go beyond the known. If nothing else, I may need to sample the two D’s just to see if they are truly horrible 🙂
Heheheh, Libra. I am too, Lulubelle! *grin* Clearly, I swung the other way on the pendulum when it came to these two perfumes. Perhaps my Scorpio ascendant? 😉 I do hope you will try these two — which I always say quietly in my head as “Dzing & Dzonga” — if only to see why they are cult favorites. I always encourage people to give things a test and make up their own mind, even when I loathe things. It’s part of the fun of perfume, after all, and a small sniff never hurt anyone’s wallet. If you try them, please come back and let me know what you think, ok? And, as always, Lulubelle, it’s lovely to see you. 🙂
Oh dear! I quite like BOTH of these! Dzing! in particular, which I would have bought if they still made the smaller size of it. On my skin, it just morphs into a very wearable leather. It’s true thought that I have always described it to others as Prada Candy in a barn. Or a petting zoo. And I like schnorgly aminals 🙂
But the beauty in perfume is our differences! Wouldn’t it be so boring if we all like the same thing?
It manifested itself very differently on you than on me, and it sounds like you had the better version! On me, it was pink candy floss, kinda revolting caramel, toffeed apple and white vanilla — and the whole mélange was amplified with every possible plastic element imaginable. Not just synthetics, but plastic. And with a sharp alcohol tone, too. No leather, no animals, nothing. Pink plastic, like the kind in really cheap “Made in China” shoes which smell.
Something about my skin really does not seem to work well with L’Artisan perfumes as a whole. I’ve had zero luck with anything that I’ve tried from the line, with the exception of Safran Troublant which I loved. Alas, that one lasted exactly 10 minutes on me! I had to practically drown myself in it for it to last longer, and even then, it was 4 hours of faintness. So, ultimately, even that one didn’t really work. I don’t know why I have such trouble with L’Artisan but it is one of the more problematic houses for me as a whole. And this last experience didn’t improve things much. 🙁 But, clearly, I’m in a very small minority and everyone else has much better luck. I’m glad you’re one of them and that the fragrances — these two included — work for you. 🙂
naked. It’s such a good word. The emperor is indeed naked. I have smelled him and he smells naked.
Hi Mridula, welcome to the blog. Thank you for sharing your thoughts on Dzing! It sounds like you didn’t have a great experience either. Oh well, we can be in the tiny minority together. LOL. Thank you again for stopping by. 🙂
Surely we are different. Our opinion on Dzing! is so different, that I should leave you to continue your work without me. Good luck.
Dzing is burnt plastic on my skin for the first three hours…the final drydown is intriguingly sweet….DzongKha is burnt rubber tires melding into urine with a drydown of unusual incense…I would not be interested in either one as a full bottle.
Oh dear, it sounds as though each perfume was perhaps worse on your skin than they were on mine! I definitely got copious amounts of plastic from Dzing, but it wasn’t so much burnt as… well, Chinese pink, manufacturers’ plastic, if that makes sense. Synthetic plastic, maybe the way to describe it.
Dzonghka….. ouch. Urine? Oh my. Well, you can join me and a few others in the little minority corner of those who didn’t like either perfume very much. There aren’t many of us out there, but there are definitely some.
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Oh, I adore Dzing and always will. It’s a perfect soft leather with a naughty edge.Like a lovers embrace.Incredibly sensual,human,alive.It was instant love. I bought a 100 ml bottle on the spot.And Dzonghka was a very pretty pink cheeked iris on me.But I tried it only briefly ,still I remember liking it quite a lot.Our experiences of both perfumes are so different!
I’m very glad both fragrances work for you. 🙂 Skin chemistry is a funny thing and, in my case, it clearly didn’t work in my favour. 🙂
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Finally! It feels so good reading about two of my most unpleasant perfume experiences and not hearing full praise only.
Dzing didn’t feel right on my skin but I could at least imagine it doing better on others. But Dzonkha…. it borders disgusting territory!
I had no luck with L’Artisan fragrances so far, so maybe it’s just me or the brand or both. Safran Troublant and Tee pour un Ete aside, I didn’t enjoy any of them.
Please keep being honest! 🙂
Ha! Good to meet a fellow sufferer! We’re not a large group, so I’m glad you found me. 🙂
You know, I have the same problems as you do with L’Artisan. I’ve only liked Safran Troublant, but it barely lasted on my skin (no, seriously, it was a hopeless case), so I’m not sure even Safran Troublant counts. But I did love how it smelled! I haven’t tried the other one you mentioned, but I’m not really motivated to try more from the line, if I’m to be honest. These last two pretty much scarred me for a while!
Thank you for stopping by and sharing your own experiences with the scents, Marie. I hope you will pop by again. 🙂
Thank you for this honest review! Today I went to a local shop to try the L’Artisan line. I was very interested in finding a favorite among them, since I’ve read so many positive reviews. Alas, I felt very negatively toward all of them. As soon as I returned home, I scrubbed my arms with alcohol pads. Dzing, especially, was a disappointment. If I wanted to smell like a barn, I would happily wear Cuir de Russie and smell like a fabulously luxurious barn. Cheap and synthetic are words like describe my experience well. Ugh. These scents make me angry, too!
Anyway, I love reading your blog, but this is the first time I’ve been compelled to comment – 1.5 years after the posting.
First, welcome to the blog, Dottie, and thank you for commenting. (Come out of lurkerdom! 😀 ) Second, I was interested to hear that Dzing smelled synthetic and cheap on your skin, too. We are definitely in a tiny minority when it comes to that scent. Truth be told, when I first received notification of a comment on this post, my immediate mental response was “Oh God, what now?” because I fully expected a scathing, hostile reaction to my post. A lot of people really love Dzing. Well, as they say, there is something for everyone out there. 🙂
I hope you will feel free to stop by again. I love to get to know my readers, especially any that may have been following the blog for a while. On the other hand, I fully understand some people’s hesitation or reluctance to post publicly, so I don’t want you to feel pressured in any way. Just know that you’d be welcomed if you choose to participate more often. 🙂 Have a lovely weekend, Dottie.
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I’ve been randomly reading your reviews the past several days and clicked on L’artisan’s Dzongkha and Dzing! That was one review (Dzing!) that truly made me laugh and laugh. 😀 I read outloud to my partner and he cracked up, too. Seriously, I’ve sampled Al Oudh, Fou de Absinthe and Fou de Absinthe, but wasn’t greatly impressed.
Damn, I always have to come back to correct my typos! One Fou de Absinthe and Voleur de Roses.
Hello, Kafka! I always enjoy reading your reviews. Even when I disagree with your assessment of a perfume, I always come away understanding exactly why you don’t like something (and sometimes the things that make you hate something are exactly the things that make me like it), and that always contributes to my understanding and appreciation of perfume in general.
I’m glad to see that you’re back at it, and I’ll enjoy reading whatever you choose to post. A good friend of mine, who is a very successful blogger, told me a long time ago that one of the things that distinguishes great blogs from other ones is an emphasis on the personal. I agree with him; when someone has really dug in and worked to find *their* truth, I almost always enjoy the results.
One teeny bone to pick: Olivia Giacobetti (who did Dzing!), not Bertrand Duchaufour, did Passage d”Enfer. I think that may explain why PdE is so muted in nature; a lot of her stuff is like that.