She is tall and slender, with very feminine forms, humanoid face and unmistakably alien head with tentacle-like protrusions. She walks a little strange, balancing from side to side. With her light blue skin, navy lips and black nails there’s nothing human in her appearance. She looks cold, emotionless and reserved. She’s a monster. But then she starts singing and everything changes: she warms up, becomes alive and you just can’t stop watching her facial expressions and moves of her hands while she performs the composition in [almost*] humanly impossible ranges. She seems really beautiful and almost human.
Impossible Iris is a great name for a perfume. How does one live up to such a name? Ramon Monegal found a perfect solution: his Iris Impossible isn’t about iris. Of course, iris is present but not only it is not in its expected and well-recognized earthy-root-y facet but it is also so well blended with other notes (according to Fragrantica – mimosa, raspberry, Ylang-ylang, jasmine and Virginian cedar) that regular people (the ones without a super-nose or a list of notes) wouldn’t be able to identify what they smell. Reviewers are all over the place describing which notes they smell the most prominently in this perfume. I declare my inability to pick out any of them – even though I think I know how those notes are supposed to smell.
Impossible Iris starts strange and a little aloof (especially if worn in the colder weather). It smells… the word “artificial” has a negative connotation, which isn’t my intent, but I don’t know how to describe this perfume better. It smells not natural – similar to how Mugler‘s Angel smells not natural (though I’m not trying to compare scents themselves). I do not recognize the scent of any of the listed elements but the composition smells good. As time goes by, Impossible Iris warms up, loses its otherworldliness and becomes more familiar and approachable. It sings on skin and it is beautiful.
Impossible Iris for me is that Diva Plavalaguna of the Perfumeland. I got the first sample because I liked the name. When I applied the perfume for the first time, it wasn’t what I expected or wanted it to be. But it was weird and interesting. And captivating. And I couldn’t stop sniffing my wrist – all the way through a couple of samples to a bottle in my collection.
I don’t know what it is with me, iris perfumes and aliens: it’s the second time I drew that type of association (the previous time it was Alien wears Prada Infusion d’Iris). If you haven’t seen it yet (or don’t remember it well), watch the clip and tell me if you see what I see:
Images: Diva Plavalaguna – from the video; perfume – my own
* IMDB trivia on this movie mentions that the singer, Inva Mula, commented to the composer that “some of the notes written were not humanly possible to achieve because the human voice cannot change notes that fast” so she performed those notes in isolation – one by one, and they were edited into the aria. Since then there were at least several claims by different singers of performing the same composition live. You can easily find their clips online but I don’t know either if those are really unedited recordings or if they actually are doing it exactly to the original (my abilities are not good enough to hear that).