Your Ghostcore Getaway: Bora Bora by Giardini Di Toscana
What is this obsession with seasonality when it comes to perfume? Seems to me we’ve debunked the idea that fragrances are gendered, but still cling to the myth that some notes only “work” during particular times of year. I don’t get it. I spend half the summer freezing in air-conditioning, and during the winter I melt my furnace grates with bone-dry air to keep my apartment at 78 degrees. I’m privileged enough to only expose myself to the elements when absolutely necessary so why would my perfume have any relationship to the weather outdoors?
Spiritually, it feels depraved that perfume brands exploit mother nature for marketing. I also know these rules are fake because “summer” scents always skew marine or citrus and excuse me but have you smelled the way bergamot (or lemon, or melon) mixes with sweat? No thank you! Everyone knows that incense, rum and tobacco smell amazing with BO and those are all always categorized as “winter” notes. Who is getting rich off these lies!? This Fall I don’t want to smell like sandalwood, amber, or vanilla: I want to smell like Countess Luann De Lesseps after three Mai Tais in St. Barts.
Bora by Giardini Di Toscana smells like your rich friend’s mom. It smells like suntan lotion that costs €13 at a french pharmacy but will run you $60 (plus shipping) in the US. It smells like you booked a vacation you couldn’t afford and canceled it 14 hours later. It’s a creamy, tropical, rich lady perfume with a caramelized sunscreen accord that lasts forever. Remember that episode of The Kardashians when Kim sobbed because she lost her 4-carat diamond earring in the ocean and Kourtney just said “Kim, there’s people that are dying.” It smells like that.
I am obsessed with the bottle: it looks like a cigarette that would judge you for smoking it. This is the kind of scent you wear if you have a personal chef who you refer to as “my good friend.” It’s borderline patronizing and feels particularly delusional in cold weather. Want to make people confused? Spray this on a crisp Autumn night and let your freak flag fly. It barely projects but it lasts forever, so anyone who enters your auric field will be hit with a tidal wave of late-summer jasmine and candied tiare flower. Wet on the skin, “lotion” is the dominant characteristic, but the Nivea-scented, pina colada opening dries down to something closer to Japanese milk bread, manoi tanning oil, and celery. You know how canned coconut milk is never quite as sweet as you want it to be? That’s the sort of savoriness you get here. Yes, the drydown is random but you already smell like caramel-coated sunscreen in October so you may as well lean into being strange.
It was released alongside Giardini’s perennially-backordered Bianco Latte, which is nice, sweet and creamy, but I still think this perfume its better. It’s a fragrance that clings to hair, sheets, and clothes and will last you through through a shower. For my seasonal frag heads, hear me out because I actually think this is the perfect scent for Halloween. Want to smell like a ghost? This sticks to everything it touches, so I advise wearing it around your ex rightttt before you block their number. Spooky!