Sesto Senso

As an ardent fan of of all things Disco, the marketing on Sesto Senso immediately has me hooked. I love the image of the beautiful woman with free-flowing curls and dangling earrings, head thrown back in joyous laughter, exposing her long, graceful neck. I can just imagine this donna letting it all hang out on some chic Italian dance floor circa 1983, getting down to La Bionda or Amanda Lear. I love that it's called "sixth sense." And as somebody who absolutely *loves* to go dancing, the fact that the perfumer connects Sesto Senso to her clubbing days has an instant, personal draw for me. Oh, wait, you don't buy perfume for the marketing? (In all honesty, I'm frequently guilty on this one.) Sesto Senso starts out with a strong, somewhat dusty plastic note. I also get a hint of aldehydes. It gets fruitier as time goes on, but the plastic smell remains in the background for the duration of the perfume's life. This means that Sesto Senso is sweet in a way that feels obtrusively man-made: it's not a natural or total fruitiness, but more like you are burying your nose in a bowl of plastic fruit. Beyond the plastic and powder smells, the fruits and tuberose are pretty well balanced, with no one ingredient dominating the other. The perfume is well-balanced, if extremely synthetic. For me, the perfume mostly fades within about an hour and does not have much throw. I sprayed it on at the beginning of a workday, and it had completely vanished by lunchtime. Sesto Senso is weak enough to be the kind of perfume a person could joyously over-spray (at least, if you are guilty of being an over-sprayer -- hey, at least I can cop to it), but at €1.3 / mL, it's a little pricey to be the kind of frag you'd indiscriminately douse yourself in. I would say that this works best in warm weather, because of the fruity energy and because the heat might help with the throw of the perfume. True to the marketing, I would also classify this as a date night or clubbing perfume. Soliani's creations often smell edible, but that's definitely not the case here. It's less apricot orchard and much more polyester jumpsuit on a crowded dance floor: a little cloying, a little... sweaty. If I had unlimited space on my shelf I'd pick it up because I enjoy the brand and it's such a cool concept, but since space (and money) are limited, I'm skipping a full bottle on this one. If you're looking for this energy but are pensive about the polymer personality / prohibitive price point of Sesto Senso, I would suggest travolting your way over to eBay and getting a bottle of Pavarotti Donna, which is a big, joyous vintage Eurotrash nightclub peach at a gentler cost.