Rrose Sèlavy
Maria Candida Gentile (2016)

Apparently many different rose absolutes were used in this composition to acheive the effect of presenting every part of the rose itself: the petals, leaves, stem, thorns and give the perfume a shifting nature.
I must admit I am only able to smell one rose though, a not very exciting one, a little on the green/vegetal side thanks to some herbs and a dose of (questionable) mint, and nothing more.
If this was presented as a perfectly wearable, minamalist, humble cologne, say one Aqua Allegoria: "ROSAMENTA", I might forgive its shortcomings and forget about it. But this a pure perfume, with a hefty price tag and a back story that uses Marcel Duchamp and
his art so, no, this perfume doesn't live up to that; and the fact that "Rrose Selavy" means "eros, that's life" only adds a joke on this sad, little scent, in wich I dare anyone to find either.

Having given us the innocent decadence of Sideris, a personal favourite rose perfume that seems purifying and sumptuous at once, I sit up and take notice anytime Gentile goes near a rose. Rrose Sèlavy is as playful as its Dadaist cross-dressing inspiration, coming across as a giant rose bush stage decoration, the real presented as artifice, untidy and yet framed.
The rosy notes here are sappy and undulating – no particular type of rose seems to be highlighted, rather all kinds of rosy accents from darker velvety tones to almost watery pink ones bustle about. They are set in a nimbus of twigs, leaves, dry hay and windblown fronds of anise which seems to expand with time. But there are also backstage scents of face powder and skin musk lurking here, weaving in and out of perception.
While the perfume has undoubted presence, its character is of a light, skipping being with a mission to meld the categories of nature and artifice and not be too fastidious about it.