Hmmm, Nina, dolce amore the song goes (WARNING: Italian pop music from the 80s), you’re lovely, pretty and smiling, so why didn’t you convince me?
We went for a coffee and a stroll, and after a citrusy opening, she showed florals and apples, wrapped by a distinct sweetness. It’s far from cloying or gourmand though, and it only occupies half of the olfactory space. The rest feels lightly peppery.
To get an idea, imagine a small portion of candy fruits (choose between apples and strawberries) with some pepper sprinkled on top with a very light hand. I was caught quite off-guard by all this moderation, as the reviews spoke about a perfume on the verge of gourmand. So, is it sweet or not? Just like there is a threshold for pain, there seems to be one for sweetness as well, and Nina plays with it on the verge.
After a couple of hours, the pepper side will subside and the candy fruits would be free to spread the wings and call for an insulin shot, but they don’t: it’s too late, and Nina just gently fades with no blast.
Nina by Nina Ricci is sweet but also fresh, fruity and spicy, easy but sophisticated… and that’s why it didn’t convince me: it seems like it tries to make everyone happy or at least not unhappy. Sweet, but not too much, fruity but not too much, fresh (where the sweetness ends) but not too much. But don’t dismiss it, try it, the very same things that didn’t convince me may actually make you love it.