(This is a review of the vintage version of Dune by Dior.)
I have come to the conclusion that Dune is the haunting spirit of my youth. When I was a child my parents had a chauffeur who would escort me back and forth from school. The driver had these really long nails on his thumbs; they were yellow and cakey and I would always notice it whenever he reached over to fasten my seatbelt. His car REEKED of this scent; from the moment I caught whiff of it I am immediately flooded with memories of those creepy fingers.
Despite my negative association, this is still NOT a safe blind purchase–Dune feels inherently masculine to me. It smells very old school, like something that belongs in the eighties. The pencil shavings with spicy woods are quite heavy in concentration and I found the oakmoss and incense combo to be too intense on my skin. It’s strange but I detect no florals whatsoever, Dune is reminiscent of the sun setting over a vast and barren desert.
Top notes are rosewood, aldehydes, patchouli with heavy doses of amber. After a few minutes this transitions into a warm benzoin and sandalwood on a bed of oakmoss; I can sense damp and earthy undertones accommodating the dry down. I don’t know why but I find vintage chypres to smell mildly unpleasant, like Chinese herbs that are stored for way too long in a dank and moist environment.
This perfume made me realize how much I dislike lichen/mossy notes in a fragrance. I always end up smelling like a swamp frog, it’s just not my cup of tea.
Dune certainly smells like its generation: bold, complex, and brazenly confident. This is truly for those with an acquired taste, I wish I can say I like this perfume–but it is simply not for me.