Reviews of Poison 
Christian Dior (1985)

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Poison by Christian Dior

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Reviews of Poison by Christian Dior

There are 117 reviews of Poison by Christian Dior.

Poison is Snow White -and- the Wicked Stepmother, united in the deadly gift of the poison apple. It's both innocent and imperious, a purple-green toffee apple bubblegum, with a layer of toxic frost.

A typical 80's composition of ylang-ylang tuberose and orange flower, with gourmand and chypre elements, Poison is one of the most distinctive - and audacious - scents there ever was; a powerful contrast of cute and vindictive, warm-spicy and icy cold.

It's Femme for all those ice queens who hold their heart untouchable, whether by others - or themselves.

A gothic masterpiece.

My first experience of Poison was at my sister's wedding reception in the 80's. One of her friends walked by, and I was immediately intoxicated by the rich, fruity, floral, ambery and potent scent. I had to ask what she was wearing, and ever since, Poison has been one of my favorite perfumes for women. It radiates confidence, sensuality and sex in a deliciously voluptuous way. It's mysterious and captivating and mature --- not for young girls or the office! For me it conjures up dark velvet curtains, purple and wine-colored cushions with everything moving in slow motion --- every second to be savored.

The musical parallel I get is the Arabian Dance from Tchaikovsky's "Nutcracker," or something slow and sultry by Cassandra Wilson ... maybe a deep midnight raga played on shehnai.

It's hard to express just how big Poison was in the late 80's. If you've seen old photos of people in malls or old videos of people dancing in clubs, or movies about people in high school, they all reeked of Poison. It was THE smell of the late 80's.

So what does it smell like? Well, nothing like the bloated notes list would suggest. Instead, it smells like a grape lollipop. Sure, if I try really hard, I can pick out clove and a pinch of something coconutty, and it has a floral effusiveness that suggests that there are flowers in there, but everything melts together to smell like sugary grape candy.

Were this anything else, I'd probably vote thumbs down, but this is such a nostalgic smell that I can't help but vote thumbs up despite myself...

Dior Poison (1985) is a perfume for ladies who needed to absolutely blow the doors off when they made an entrance, and for some guys who wanted to leave a scandalous trail too. While not explicitly unisex, Poison has both intimidation and allure that defies gender, to the point where it was infamously banned from some restaurants in the 1980's when launched. Previously, only Giorgio Beverly Hills (1981) had received that notoriety, but moreso for volume than tone. Poison is an altogether different beast; this perfume envelops a space, subverts the atmosphere, and changes the mood of everyone present, and like actual poison, can corrupt or destroy those unable to withstand it. Dior Poison is technically an oriental, but has so many dark, fruity, floral, and green aspects that it is truly abstract. The perfume became quite ubiquitous in its heyday despite its controversial nature, and although nowadays it's still rather recognizable, Poison has becoming something of a rare bird of prey among the pigeons that are both the current market and its many flankers.

Poison opens with a spicy dark melange of orange blossom, plum, and rosewood. Mace, coriander, anise and pimento give this dark fruity floral a fathomless rounded feel for which Poison would become known, while the woody tones in the top prevent sweetness from overtaking. The heart is a dense kitchen sink of indole, honey, and cinnamon, with jasmine and rose performing their usual duties alongside muguet and a well-concealed tuberose, adding a dirty skin feel accentuated by blackberry and pasty labdanum. Each tier of this perfume could almost be a whole perfume unto itself, such is the complexity here, but the final woody and animalic resting place of amber, opoponax, sandalwood, cedar, and musk is what keeps Poison pulsing all night. The plum and blackberries in particular give a sort of wilted fruit accord that flits and flickers through the florals, spice, and woods, which make the "poison apple" design of the bottle all the more appropriate. Sillage and longevity are incalculable, so don't try to wear Poison casually, because perfumer Jean Guichard made sure it won't let you. This stuff always has been and always shall be divisive, so no context for appropriate use is given. If you have to ask if you should wear Poison, then you shouldn't.

Poison to me feels like oneupmanship against Coco Chanel (1984), which itself was a reaction to perfumes in general becoming more virile into the 80's after an early period of mega-mossy fougères or stiff leathers for guys, plus extremely dense tuberose florals and sharp green chypres for women leading out of the 70's. Perfume overall was increasingly daring and rising in a fever pitch towards utter pandemonium of excess by decade's end, which makes the "fresh" olfactive reset button into the 90's all the more disappointing to enthusiasts who lived it. Poison however, seemed to whether this change gracefully at first, earning flankers that have extended its stay. One such flanker, Hypnotic Poison (1998), has proved more popular than the original, albeit not more challenging or iconic. I really like Poison for its "forbidden fruit" vibe, and although it lays heavier than a drum of lead, I could see anyone who is genderfluid pull this off with the same ease, just not in an office space, a casual setting, or as history has shown, a restaurant. Test if feeling tempted, and wear if you dare... Thumbs up.

This complex potion invokes long lost memories of my younger years. My great aunt used to wear this as her signature, she always had a bottle near her boudoir mirror and it radiated from her whenever she hugged me. My Mum allegedly wore it in the 90s too. I'm male, and now 22.
This is the first and only perfume that gains me numerous compliments on how I smell. My first time wearing this the other month, a 40-year-old colleague said I "took her back years" and said that I smelt amazing. From then on I knew it was special. I've had numerous comments since then. One friend at the pub said I smelt "delicious". A male customer in his 50s said I smelt like his wife and yet, despite my blushed face, I didn't care.
My first bottle was a full 100ml vintage (batch code 1E102) and none of the vintages I've purchased have smelt as good as it is. I don't know why. All have varying batch codes; and all have their differences, probably due to ageing or how they've been stored. I truly believe Poison can age like fine wine. That 100ml bottle may be slightly turned, as the liquid can appear almost greenish on my skin, but it smells insane. The animalic musk and witchy incense has aged into an intoxicating honeyed plum juice, that lasts and lasts.

Vintage Poison can fill a room and I'll forever be shocked it's an EDT. It can wear you and it has been known to announce my presence before I've even entered a room, or after. It's that powerful. It has nuclear sillage and longevity, and to me, is the reigning queen of tuberose and the sole goddess of the olfactory world. Embodying the mystique of the evil witch from Snow White, it is the best perfume ever made. Purple velvet drapes. Seduction. Nothing comes close to it.
Warm spices intertwined with a cloud of stewed plums, tuberose, laced with dark wild berries, lavished in ambery honey. The drydown is very animalic and carnal to me. My skin "eats" perfume, but Poison lasts the longest of all the perfumes I've ever tried. Strong, heady projection for at least 8 hours. Yet, I can still detect the dark, animalic musky traces of it on my wrist almost 24 hours later, even after a shower. My attraction to it is not just for the beautiful scent but also its infamous history and enchanting concept. If not for those things, then for its intriguing name. Everyone wore it, it was banned from restaurants, it had a huge global release. The 80s is my favourite era, and this fragrance expertly reflects that decade.
Big, bold, daring, powerful.
Poison is an alchemic masterpiece, a classic of its own fairytale, Dior's magnum opus, an icon, and a legendary symbol of the decade it was birthed.

I have smelled some of the current formulations. One which I presume is from either 2006 or 2016 (batch code: 6P01), with gold accents on the box packaging. It does not last like the vintage. Less spicy, less potent, less incense, but is still a nice plummy potion. Fuck the IFRA and Dior for what they've done to it.
Back in March, I purchased a 50ml bottle from Boots, I presume with the latest reformulation. I've never purchased Poison in an official retailer before. I don't know if it was a dud batch or if it really is what Poison is in 2019, but it smelt disgusting. A spiking coriander note, that just smelt off. Nothing like Poison. I ended up selling it on eBay.
I own several bottles of the vintage EDT, all varying volumes. I have the Esprit de Parfum in a 30ml dropper and a very rare 100ml spray tester bottle of it too. I'll soon be adding the Eau de Cologne to my collection.

I can't really be objective about Poison, as it's attached to a lot of nostalgia for me. The first bottle I acquired of it was in 1986, as a teenager. I wore it almost every day for 2 years. It's what people came to associate with me (and according to old classmates, it still does remind them of me.) At the time, I was the sole girl at my school who wore it (or the later knockoffs), and it was a strange, dark, daring scent which fit my strange-girl personality. I even had a cat who adored it, and would lick it off my wrists (my mother checked with the vet to be reassured that the amounts she'd be ingesting wouldn't hurt her); this memory is bittersweet, given the brevity of cat lifespans.

On me it was thankfully never "too much" according to everyone who smelled it on me (I applied exactly one spray, which might have had something to do with that), and it smelled mostly of its fruit and spice notes. Even after it became an ubiquitous, abused and overused fragrance, I was told that it was still somehow distinctive -- and therefore not annoying -- on me.

Not long ago, I opened a box that had been stored at my parents's house and found a full bottle that had been bought in 1993, according to the serial number. 25 years later, the bottle smells exactly how I recall it; one spray provoked a rush of memories in a way the newer formulas don't, which is rather curious.

So yes, Poison, for me, is and will always be a 5-star scent.

Poison is not my jam: it's thick, sweet, spicy, but most of all: heavy. The flowers are heady and heavy, the spices are suspended in a thick ooze of amber, the vanilla is rich and heavy, there's a slightly tart, plummy note, but even that is heavy. The whole fragrance is like someone playing a piece of music hitting every note with the same ferocious intensity; monotonically overwhelming. It does have a gothic appeal though, so I do get why some people may love it, but I'll happily leave it to them to pull this off.

The opening of Poison was challenging for me, and seemed more feminine than unisex, but within an hour it settled into an agreeable dryer sheet smell.

The original EdT.Poison from Christian Dior Paris had smell so good,strongly. But now smell changed. It has orange smell when dry down.

This Is gorgeous. Of course. I just purchased samples of both the vintage and the latest versions. I'm a tuberose lover. But poison can hide the tuberose and make it less obvious with the coriander.

Unfortunately, I fell in love with the vintage one (smelled blindly). It's softer, it has a more powdery feel. It caresses your skin. So simple, and yet so elegant and elaborate. But it has less sillage than the modern version. The eau de toilette is the best but eau de parfum is gorgeous as well.

I think the modern one has more coriander, and the vintage fragrance more opoponax.

Femme Fatale potion. I've always had this; I always will. Whenever I wear it I think of a quote from a movie, "Black as midnight, black as pitch, blacker than the foulest witch."

Exotic, seductive, captivating...Christian Dior's Poison is a classic elixir with an amazing mix of notes:

* Top: Coriander, Plum, Wild Berries, Anise, Brazilian Rosewood
* Heart: Carnation, Jasmine, African Orange Flower, Opoponax, Cinnamon, Incense, Rose, Honey
* Base: Vetiver, Musk, Sandalwood, Vanilla, Virginia Cedar, Amber, Heliotrope

I continue to be amazed at how sexy this perfume is, and I will never tire of it!

Dior 's best creation EVER , nothing in this world is like this evil , seductive queen ...

It's easy for me to write about the scents I that give four stars--but five stars? I need more space than this box provides. Five-star scents are essay scents. These could involve history, or cogitation, or passion, or all three.

Still, I'll try to keep this as simple as possible. Poison was the first perfume I loved--not the first perfume I enjoyed, or the first perfume I loved wearing, but the first perfume that I *loved*, the insane way that teenage girls fall in love. That love was about mystery and discovery and a sense of things being made just for me. I know that's maudlin, but that's adolescent love.

All these tender emotions may seem to run opposite to the camphor-and-tuberose beast in a bottle that comes to mind when you think of Poison, but consider the competition in 1985. It was a time of big smells, especially at my otherwise conservative Southern Baptist-dominated high school. The boys wore Polo. The girls wore hairspray. Giorgio was the floral du jour. I hated that for its aldehydes and its pretentions and it's Polo Club preppy stripes. ("Of Beverly Hills." Seriously?)

My friends and I were nascent post-punk kids in a repressive carpet of Laura Ashley pastels. We cared about music and art and getting out of our small town. This was at a time when you could still get beaten up for looking like we did. I looked awful with black hair, so I bleached mine: I was that one Gothy girl with blonde hair. All my friends wore Shalimar or Coco, so I felt like they were already taken, and they didn't suit me. And so, enter Poison--a floral fragrance that seemed punk rock. It was perfect. And it was new. And it came from a proper French fashion house. It smelled like nothing else on earth, except maybe an outer-space patchoulyized update of my grandmother's Jungle Gardenia. And its sweetness smelled heavenly mixed with the tannic crumbles of tobacco in the lining of my beaten black leather biker jacket. I would take that jacket out of my closet and just sit there, inhaling. That smell, the whole thing, was *me*.

In light of Poison's ultimate fate in the hands of big-haired women twice my age at the time, I realize how ridiculous all this seems. I was likely not the perfume's intended demographic at all. Or--given the limited number of options available to the perfume consumer in 1985--maybe I was, because maybe anybody was. I don't know much about how a major perfume launch was conducted then (or now). Maybe the idea was to play up the scent's uniqueness. Who can say? Through the wonder of those strange, Lilith-and-the-Apple adverts, we found each other at just the right time--alienated dreamy teenager and newly launched purple fantasy juice. And where I lived, it was completely monogamous. Nobody at my high school would touch the stuff. And. get this: the preps started talking to me, because I wore nice perfume. And I found something to talk to them about. Poison gave me a ticket out of the shell.

I missed Poison's devaluation in the latter years of the 1980s, when I went off to college and really dropped out of the mainstream. I didn't own a television, and I didn't bother with fashion like I had at home. Like many college students, I shed my old identity when I went away, leaving my confrontational self behind. I traded in my perfume, too. (I'll come back to that). When I saw Poison around in those years, it was usually at Walgreens or another downmarket drugstore shelf. Seeing it there felt depressing, a little like seeing a former boyfriend who ended up on skid row.

I have always felt like Poison never deserved its terrible reputation. The people who wore it didn't understand it. Even when I first wore Poison, knew that you could easily put on too much. One spray was enough--and even then, you had to use the spray-and-walk-through method to get the right distribution. Otherwise, headaches and worse would result. But at the right dosage, it's sublime. It's cool and hot, sweet and bitter, light and dark. Did I mention it's economical? My bottle--I only ever had one--lasted for years. And years. I don't think it was ever thrown away. For all I know, it's off in storage somewhere--

Now I have a small bottle of vintage extrait. It did not come cheap. Even though Poison takes a lot of cheap shots on the fragrance boards, I know it gets love and respect as well. I also see that young kids are actually wearing it. I'm so glad about this, because it's a beautiful fragrance that deserves to take its place among the classics. (The reason women went nuts with it in the first place was because it smells terrific--however, more Poison is nasal fatigue, not better).

I sometimes layer my extrait with some of my earthiest oud and leather fragrances. I encourage you to do this. If I get the blend just right, I can get uncannily close to my teenage self. I can remember Love and Rockets vinyl and David Lynch movies (things I still like very much and enjoy to this day) and the smell of cigarettes and my biker jacket (things I miss very much but can't have back) and that feeling of waiting for my life to really start (a feeling that goes away when you figure out that this is actually really it, now, right here).

So I can't be objective about Poison, even if I wanted to be. It's tied up in my identity. I'm still a Perfume Person. In fact, to many people, I'm still a Loud Tuberose/Patchouli Perfume Person, One of my best friends (who came from the circle of people who first spoke to me because I wore Poison) told me the other day whilst perfume shopping, "I still can't believe you don't own Portrait of a Lady." I probably should. But it's not the same. It seems pointless to wear things that are even similar Poison, even if their quality is technically better.

So, when I chose something new to replace Poison on my dressing table, I went for something that would show that I had developed some taste and restraint. The fragrance? YSL's Paris--that model of decorum. But that's another story--

Poison is the evil queen incarnate.

Her deep purple curvaceous bottle that fits perfectly in your hand, the clear crystal top is worn as her crown. Gold letters incribe her name.

Her sprayer hisses her venom onto my skin and it tingles. I come to her when I need the power to seduce, transform into the femme fatale.

She never fails in her powerful embrace.

Plums, tuberose and spices in a cloudy jolt of a nasty off putting note at first to punish you for what you dared to unleash. Then it works her magic in a large way, the carnation, the purpleness envelops you...transforms you.

The greater whole it creates with individual notes rising from time to time enraptures your attention. This is no ordinary scent. This is one of the greatest of all time, a hallmark of an era.

Only her decadent goddess sister Opium stands as one of her equals. Poison is the malevolent one.

I obtained a nib 1989 3.4 edt edition for this review. Its been 20 years since I encountered her original form. She is just as strong, potent and magical as ever. My senses recognized her as an old dark sexy friend. Although her formulation has changed with the times and become more syrupy and grape than her original overripe plums, never underestimate the evil queen.

I adore her.

In the 1980s, when Poison was first introduced, it was not one of my favorites - but nostalgia induced me to try it again, these 30-plus years later, and oh, am I glad! Reformulation has toned it down and shifted its emphasis, but the current EDT is still a mysterious fragrance with depth and dimension. This is a lush, warm tuberose-and-amber scent, developing into a cloud of fragrance that is sweet, but not overbearing. Longevity and sillage are only moderate, but that seems to be the way it is with modern reformulations - I'm very pleased, even so.

Deleterious dilettante...

The only thing distinguishing whether any given substance is either a poison or a remedy is the quantity taken. And the only exception to this rule I've met thus far is Dior's purple chem grenade. Warnings like "Beware! I saw Poison in her toiletries!" before visiting some girl's private chambers were not uncommon at all during its reign of terror. And I've seen many a tough guy being on the slave end of a leash as soon as they managed to get on their feet again, after being floored by Poison which had viciously bitch-slapped them to submission a few moments ago. And their mullets didn't save them. On a second thought, I believe that nothing could save them.

Although one of the most desirable traits of poisons is nontraceability, this one had none. It could be traced from two blocks away and linger like forever in the crime scene after the job was done. Had someone splashed it in 1985, it would have probably been there till the early '90s.

Poison fell like a bomb on our unsuspecting world and burned it to a cinder. The aftermath could be described with just one word. Pandemonium. For a couple of years after it entered our reality (bending it beyond repair), my small city was reeking with it 24/7, to the point of rendering almost impossible to recognise a woman's presence by her perfume anymore.
But its huge (and more than often abusive) overuse is not the reason behind considering it the most important perfume of the '80s. No, it's the fact that I can hardly imagine any other perfume from that decade deserving the title of "cornerstone" that much.
And I'm still more than eager to marry any woman who has a vintage bottle of it, along with Loulou and Byzance, on her dressing table. For these three sentinels guarding her inner sanctum would surely be an irrefutable proof that living by her side would be a perpetual roller coaster. And how could it be any different when the triptych of her woomanhood would speak through Loulou's guile innocence, Byzance's despotic dominance and Poison's mesmerising witchery?

There's not even a single thing even remotely reminding of light whenever Poison enters the stage. If you're looking for some bright and sprigthly mooded perfume, spare yourselves the shock and don't bother trying it.
Just try to imagine a tall, lithe woman, with her long raven narcotic hair being the only thing covering her alabaster body. Now put her in front of an altar made of purple marble, uttering strange arcane chants and gesturing fluidly to the void. You don't know what the crimson liquid trickling from the corner of her mouth is...
Still don't get it? Run!

Last year, my mother, who knows that I'm a perfume junkie threefold the way she was in her prime, presented me with a full 50ml splash bottle which she had been keeping for nearly 30 years. The cabochon glass stopper strummed immediately some half-forgotten '80s tune, hidden in the depths of my heart. I guess it was something coming from an era when cheap plastic gimmicks were treated exactly the way they deserved. Like cheap plastic gimmicks. Its sentimental value aside, I was expecting nothing less than it would have turned into something despicable, if not to dust. Well matey, think again! The bloody hellcat smelled as if she was vialled just yesterday! All her stupendous eminence and glory was there, completely unaltered and still hollering for obedience. And who was I to deny it?
Having not experienced Poison for over a decade, I had almost forgot the facts verifying the theory and the actions triggering the mood. Poison, the way I remember it, was never negotiable or forgiving.

Sillage? If you were standing on the Equator having just damped some and you felt a light tap on your back, you shouldn't be worried. It would be Poison having already circled the Earth.
Longevity? You could spray it on the plaque on Pioneer 10 and see how aliens would deal with it after n years.
Smell? No fancy metaphors here. It smells like Poison and that's it. Period.

Given all that, I overlook the fact that its box's malachite pattern and general layout is shamelessly stolen from Jean Couturier's Coriandre from 1973. I love malachite, and for some strange reason, if someone would ask me what colour should a poison have, I'd answer "green". So according to this abstruse linkage, Poison's box fits its content perfectly.

Aye, the '80s were surely a time when "big hair, big shoulders, big perfume" was the newfound Holy Trinity of voguish mods worldwide, but Poison's irreverent mouth was even bigger. Thus swallowing everything coming its way was rather inevitable back then. The only limited thing about it was the diction it used, since two out of three words it usually spat out were "screw" and "you". The third was always something like "sucker", "loser" or "dreg".
But I never really detested its unapologetic egotism, cause when it comes to perfumes, what we all ardently crave is not them screwing around, but screwing with our minds. And for some 30 years now, Poison still brandishes one of the biggest bloody screwdrivers I've ever seen...

A touch of dark magic...

What a fragrance! Smelling this one is such an experience all by itself! A classic that has been around first as a phenomenon and then as a cult favourite for decades!

I am so happy that I finally got to try this one. The mother of all fruity, boozy sweet floral wonders! Experiencing Dior Poison is such a magical thing that I needed to write about it.

OK, so the version I have is the current Eau de Toilette. I haven't experienced older or stronger versions, but the one I have here has impressed me enough. To me, it is a very "Gothic" kind of fragrance. You have a blast of stewed and boozy fruits (plum, berries, and honey and cinnamon), this is joined by a host of crazily dense notes, myrrh, benzoin, oppoponax, tuberose, jasmine, rose. So many things going on but it is absolutely addictive! I can see why this one was a best seller for so long...

I think that this was almost like Tom Ford Black Orchid before such a thing ever existed. I think the structure of that particular fragrance owes a lot to this one. Except I think I like this one better. I love the way the fruits and honey are joined by the resins and soft florals, a juicy, addictive mix that almost feels like being drunk. It's a wonderful experience.

To me it reminds me of everything that is dark, seductive, Gothic and opulent. I think of velvet cloaks and masked balls. I think of intrigue, seduction, betrayal, and lust. All of those things are captured in this incredible smell.

Of course I do recognise that perhaps not everyone out there will like it. It is dense and it is so full of flavour and "shock" for the nose that it can be hard to take in. But you know something? I keep wanting to smell it. I think this comes mainly because of it's originality, due to the fact that it is so unusual. You will be noticed when you wear this one.

Yes I do like it, very much. I have no problem wearing it as I think it is pretty much unisex by today's standards. I have never experienced the vintage version, but I am told it was stronger than this. If so, that must have been quite an experience! I would recommend this one for lovers of heavy, unique fragrances, and something Gothic and classic and elegant. It is bold, so you need to be OK with that to wear it, but it really is something else.

This is a big, bad scent with the medicinal skank of coriander giving way to a deadly tuberose supported by opoponax and musk. Running through this is a syrupy grape note often used in children's medications--but wait, kids, this is poison, remember? Read the label before you spoon this out! So aptly named, this is all of the things that we are attracted to that are bad for us. We are drawn to it against our will, the abyss calling out to the abyss. I do not know how wearable this is in a post-80s world, but it stands tall among its peers as a deadly, sweet powerhouse, a real fleur du mal that--like a guilty, forbidden pleasure--draws us in. This is based on vintage esprit de parfum.

Proto-Lutensian medicinal purple tuberose apothecary syrup, at once radiantly whorey and ascetically anti-food anti-joy anti-sex antisocial. I have come to prefer the current EDT to the old Esprit de Parfum because it is drier and gets to the resinous-sticky incense musk drydown a little faster. For me, sometimes nothing but Poison will do when I am feeling prickly, edgy, unapproachable. I am young enough not to have formed downmarket associations with Poison because of its popularity in the 80s, so it is more austere, medieval, cruel and anticipatory of Serge Lutens to me than it is shoulder pads and Dynasty. Some facet of the tuberose smells strongly of blood at the opening. A disturbing favorite.

The drydown of the latest reformulation of Poison now smells like L'Air du Desert Marocain, and it's lovely--that same incense/wood/musk. The first few hours it is unmistakably Poison, but the 80s synth-fruit recedes more than it used to. Tania Sanchez noted this as an improvement in one of the updates to The Guide. As for tenacity--when you spray it on, you expect that it will be fleeting as modern reformulations of powerhouses go, but it just keeps coming back and sticks to everything. It can be headachey--strong florals all go headachey on me--but Poison is one of the best reformulations on the market. I love Poison and used to make myself sick with the Esprit de Parfum, which die-hards must experience for the full story, but I am really liking how this new one fades down.

How do i hate of DIOR fragrances when they are absolutely lovely and just takes me away into another world. POISON line is a pillar in female fragrances by DIOR and this original poison is seductively dangerous.It is opulence transcends into modern classicism.fascinating,heavy, alluring, timeless,provocative,ultra feminine, heady,deep and legendary.

The opening is classic floral with a fruity note which harmonizes with the note of honey,incense,cinnamon, orange blossom,vanilla,sandalwood, amber and musk and this magical elixir is charm under a full moon and makes the air thick to breathe as drives men mad.

POISON is a sinfully rich fragrance for those who are not afraid of their coquette and Passion especially if the weather is cold and the mood is hot.the bottle is as glamorous as the scent. anyway this classic exquisite perfume is a treasure in my mind.

The opening has the same offputting and pungeant sweetness as black licorice & root beer. Luckily, it quickly settles into something a little more spicy and complex. There is almost a 'damp' or dewy quality, like the mustiness of old books or vintage clothing you'd find sitting untouched in the attic after decades - like stumbling on a lost treasure. It's so very '80s, and so very dark, alluring and bold - It could easily be the signature scent of one of Patrick Nagel's white-skinned, red-lipped & dark-haired '80s beauties. Powerhouse scent, indeed!

About 15 years ago, I LOVED this scent. Since them I've moved away from it (because it became so popular and I associated it with women I didn't like). Now that my scent profile has matured, I tied to give it another chance. Now it is just "ok" and not as appealing. The scent does stay with you, but not always in a good way.

Best frag from the 80s IMO. Dark and in your face. Love it.

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