(image, Suddenly Last Summer)
Perfumer Pierre Guillaume
Psychotrope feels a bit like dousing myself with Donna Karan Gold while sucking on a mouthful of Jolly Rancher candies. But it also points out how ‘normalcy’ can be more disturbing than outrageousness. Punk is easy. Find the easily offended, offend, then gloat.
Psychotrope isn’t even vaguely punk. It doesn’t shock. Instead it infiltrates the mainstream by wearing a fruity-floral disguise. It’s deceptively close to normal but if you’re attuned to its particular frequency, it sends a shiver down to the base of your spine. The floral-leather categorization is misdirection that lends propriety to the perfume’s sci-fi candied fruit vinyl. Psychotrope creates an illusion in the same way that Dior Dune does. What first registers as conventional turns threatening when you see it out of the corner of your eye. The camouflage of normalcy falls away and Psychotrope becomes frightening.