Steamed Rainbow

REALITY : LET ME BE SO FOR REAL WITH YOU RIGHT NOW, This is the UNCANNY SCENT of a ✨Chlorinated pool✨ Here's what you're gonna smell—Violet’s ghost (like the ending (after smell???) if you shoved the flower into your nose). Then the soft powdery skin of mandarin, a whisper of orange, and a good hit of pepper. But let's go back to this Chlorinated Perfume. Because it's giving the kind of pool that stings your eyes just enough to let you know it’s pristine. Over-cared-for. EXPENSIVE. Think: a resort where the lawn is Technicolor green and the water is that artificial, shimmering blue that almost looks like a picture of the Bahamas. Think: your childhood neighbor’s pool on a breezy 90s early afternoon, chlorine lifting into the air, caught and carried by the wind. A distant boombox hums through a nearby house. The smell hits before the splash. It’s shockingly approachable. REVIEW 🦪: Steam. Somehow—steam. Filtered through violet, mandarin, and that thread of peppery green. How this becomes chlorinated feels borderline criminal... and yet, genius. It opens like childhood—bright, chaotic, sun-drunk. Violet, but not powdery—bent, electric. Mandarin mid-sunlight. A flicker of orange, like juice warming on pavement. The air is green, cool, alive. Barefoot—cannonball. Then it shifts. You’re in it now. Chlorine sharpens, rises. Steam thickens, clings. The water smells worked, alive. Swim practice. Goggles snapping. Lanes, repetition. Magic turns to structure. You want out. But you’re fully inside it. Another turn. You’re at the edge. Watching. Coaching. Cold December air, steam wrapping everything in chlorine and heat. The greens and spice tighten—controlled, intentional. The chaos organizes. Meets. Finals. That quiet electric hum before the whistle. The chlorine is still there— just not the main character.You are. And then... it softens. You’re older. Somewhere curated—a resort, maybe Germany, maybe nowhere real. The chlorine diffuses into memory. You move slower. No urgency. No expectations. No whistle. No cannonball. No set. Just water—and everything it used to mean. If you’ve lived by a pool, this hits something precise. I don’t know if I’d wear it out. I don’t even know if it works on my skin.But on paper? On clothes? It’s a time capsule that hums—nostalgic, uncanny, a little dangerous. Something your brain recognizes before you do. And I’ll be honest, I’m a little afraid of it. And completely drawn in.

This fragrance is somehow strikingly terrestrial and simultaneously ethereal. Upon first spray you are met with fresh citrus and led through hills beset with morning fog and endlessly lush, vibrant green grass dappled with dew. Instantly I'm transported to Iceland's Gullfoss, a very fond memory of mine, which unfortunately provoked me to buy a FB of this stupidly expensive for poorly performing formulation. Don't get me wrong, it smells great, and dries down into this beautiful earthly fresh water scent with a grass accord lacking the pungence and sharpness this note tends to evoke. However, the experience is limited insofar as you can manipulate it into adhering to your skin without dampening its projection. I have experimented, and I think this insight is probably the most valuable offering I can give here. The first time I tested this was with two sprays on dry, unshowered and unmoisturized skin. I was pleasantly surprised that by the end of a cool wet day I was still catching wafts of it, albeit faint, from my forearm. Given what I'd read from reviews, I felt a bit vindicated in my decision to purchase a FB. IME the worst time to apply this is immediately after a shower, as it all seems to either evaporate or get drunk up by the skin within mere minutes. Imagine my disappointment having wasted 5 sprays with not even a skincent to show for it after such a promising first impression. Lotion and occlusives whether layered on top or as an anchor are no help, only serving to further soften the already intimate sillage. I waited a few hours to reapply and it finally seemed to stick yet still didn't project like it did the first time I wore it, but then it was also a much drier day. I've found that it performs best on clothes and in humid climates when allowed to set into thoroughly dry and maybe a bit unbathed skin. Perhaps the natural oils give it something to stick to, or a barrier to absorption? Idk. Will update if I find a better solution. TLDR; A phenomenally vivid dreamy yet photorealistic petrichor that performs very poorly without a little finesse. FB worthy? It's up to you how much you're willing to shell out for what is better suited as a body spray. I'm still on the fence, but luckily I have plenty of product to get through before I have to make that call. :)

An absolutely gorgeous feat of perfumery. The first perfume that has ever literally brought me to tears when I first smelled it - for a *good* reason, rather than a bad one. What's so fascinating about this perfume is the way, as a whole, it so vividly mimics the smell of a garden hose on a mist setting, spraying over rocks on a warm summer day. But if you hone in on the notes, it is very accessible! It's at once a beautiful, evocative composition, but equally transparent and wears its heart on its sleeve. You really can pick up on the grass, the mandarin (which is unbelievably nuanced in its incorporation), the distinctly purple-y violet in the base. But it would be completely wrong to call this just a grassy, citrusy, or even watery perfume. It is both a very obvious sum of its parts and something far, far more as a whole. It's absolutely incredible. I've seen people compare this type of perfumery to the Margiela Replica line where they take concepts/memories of places and turn them into perfumes. But honestly they're quite different, and what DS&Durga has done here is on a whole other level. Where Replica hones in on one or two obvious, tangible aspects of a memory (a vanilla cookie, a smoky piece of wood, wet leaves on the ground, a tomato on the vine, etc.) and turns it up to 100, Steamed Rainbow takes the entire vignette. A moving portrait in time. It's a photorealistic tableau of quite literally everything in the 10 foot vicinity of a specific memory so many people who grew up in the 90's/early 2000's have. "BUT IS IT WEARABLE!?" the people shout, as I wax poetic about this expensive little bottle. The answer is YES, in my opinion. It shocked me how wearable it is, and not only that, it lasts a while and projects impressively on skin. And - even though this is a bad metric and variable for everyone - I got compliments on it when I wore it. Worth sampling first, though. Definitely not blindbuy safe. I've been thinking about what I could say about this perfume for so long, and even with all that hoopla I wrote up there, it doesn't feel like it does it justice. THIS is what perfumery is all about!

There seems to be some understandable confusion about this based on the name. The fragrance is actually inspired by an album, not a rainbow, or gay pride. The album is called "A Rainbow In Curved Air" by Terry Riley and it's a minimalist ambient electronic composition that consists of just two 20 minutes tracks. It came out in 1969 and was a basically spawned (or helped spawn) ambient and electronic music as we know it today. It still holds up very well - you can listen to it free on Youtube. The only direct reference to the album is on the web site, perhaps he should have called it "A Fragrance In Curved Air". This fits the brief in that it is also an ambient minimal composition. It's mostly citrus and woods but with a distinct fruity and watery element that makes it smell ethereal and delicate. The fruit kinda reminds me of skittles candy. Late dry down is like a watercolour fog. This is super modern - it has an alien sweetness and a futuristic feel, but it’s still very light and comfortable. Performance is subtle but persistent, 8 hours, close to skin. I do double up on sprays but that makes it last for me. Update; This layers really well with Molecule 1 + Black tea and it was doing this that made me realize this fragrance has a very steaming cup of tea quality about it, even by itself.

For me, it’s a hyper-realistic memory with overwhelming factual fidelity: it’s peak summer, and you’re lying on a damp towel by the poolside. It smells like wet, cold tile and freshly watered grass. The hose is leaking. It’s extremely hot outside, but you’re in the shade, and the dampness of the towel feels cool against the skin of your back. It’s 2006, or perhaps 2011. This is easily one of the most incredible perfumes I’ve ever tried, especially because it’s simultaneously so capital-W Weird and strangely wearable. It doesn’t smell like perfume at all, and yet it’s not alienating — no one would go, “WTF is that smell?” It’s high olfactory art and a perfectly reasonable perfume to wear for a walk. It’s a fougère, deconstructed, and a fougère, reassembled. It’s edgy without being a poser. Actually, it’s what ELDO wanted to be and never quite could. This is also the only thing I can wear during a heat wave. I crave it when and only when it’s hot outside. The 50 ml bottle I got is leaky, though, which is a shame considering the price point. I would, however, use it with a dropper if I had to, without complaining. It’s that special. Also, I agree with @pineapplefluff’s every word on this one.