Colonia Pura
Acqua di Parma (2017)

Colonia Pura by Acqua di Parma (2017) sits squarely on the nose as a perfume made by François Demachy for corporate overlords LVMH, shambling around in the skin of Aqua di Parma, which it now owns. You can feel a lot of the white musks and cedarwood choices here that would later go into the most-recent update of Dior Homme Cologne (2023), which François Demachy did before stepping down from Dior in favor of Francis Kurkdjian. The key differences between this and that later scent is the arrangement of top notes here being more along the lines of the classic eau de cologne Acqua di Parma was known for; so in a sense, this is still the same sort of boring but functional white musk light "cologne" scent, but with more actual eau de cologne heritage in the accords.

Now I like Dior Homme Cologne, but my reason for liking it is the rather unique arrangement of citruses and white florals in it that make it smell futuristic, yet also classically-derived. None of that is here in Colonia Pura, as we instead get a phoned-in François Demachy base with lazy construction on top, to make something that goes on exactly as you expect, dries down exactly as you expect, and then has supernatural tenacity coupled with linearity which grates as it simultaneously bores. It's something special when you make a proper eau de cologne that lasts, and there are right ways to do it; then there are wrong ways to do it such as this. It's also a bit hard to top Acqua di Parma Colonia Assoluta (2003), made with a dream team of Bertrand Douchaufour and Jean-Claude Ellena, with one of the most-ingenious bases I've ever seen, and of course it's discontinued.

The tenacity is from a particularly grating soapy patchouli and cedar tandem, which reminds me somewhat of what Cartier Roadster (2008) and Roadster Sport (2009) had going on, particularly with the latter's herbed orange on top; but the whole thing is dialed down to a whisper here, making it linger just on the periphery of awareness, and having none of the strident panache Mathilde Laurent worked into her first pair of Cartier masculine-market scents. A sort of sad simulacrum of those, with arbitrary white musks, and obligatory "cologne" notes above it all, the fresh-with-no-character nature of Acqua di Colonia Pura is saved only by a sneaky powderiness that reminds me of late 19th century perfumes right at the very end; and trust me when I say all of that isn't enough to turn my thumb upwards for it. It is however, just enough to make me break even with my disliking and compromise with indifference. Neutral

Colonia Pura opens with a short lived blast of citrus in the forms of Bergamot and Orange and quickly moves into a creamy, salty, marine note that reminds me of Korres Pure Greek Olive & Sea Salt Shower Gel. While not unpleasant I can see why some people may not like it.

This lasts for a few hours before moving into a base that, to me, smells really similar to Fico di Amalfi.

This is not a bad fragrance and it holds its own in the Colonia line. The fragrance has good longevity on my skin but I'll go neutral as if I had a choice between this and Fico di Amalfi, the latter would win every time.

There's just something about this fragrance that I really love. It's not a masculine scent, but for me it's aroma therapy. It's a fairly straight-forward, one dimensional scent, without much development. There's just something about the combination of Jasmine, Narcissus, and White Musk that casts a clean, gentle sweet floral, magical spell on me.

I probably wouldn't wear this in public, more likely at night before bed, or any time I need an up-lifting pick-me-up (like during the COVID quarantine). But I'd love to smell this on a significant other.

I encourage others to try it and see if it doesn't lift your mood too.

The opening is by a nice orange-bergamot dyad, with the bergamot lagging behind the orange in importance during the initial blast. The is not really sweet, and although there is neither a typical Chinotto nor an actual grapefruit component to it, I can detect a subtle bitterness that is emphasisied by a bit of petitgrain in the background.

In the the drydown the development shifts to the floral, with jasmine and hyacinth present, and I also get whiffs of oleander blend as well. The florals remain a bit uninspiring on me, and a bit dull at times.

The most interesting heart note is an agreeable coriander, which moves into the foreground and where it stays for some time.

In the base I still get the coriander note, but gradually it is replaced by a mix of patchouli and musks. The patchouli is soft, smooth, light and rather discrete. The white musks are not sweet and quite nondescript. Both components are underlined by a woodsy undertone in the background, with touches of cedar at times, but mainly just a general wood impression.

I get soft sillage, adequate projection and five hours of longevity on my skin.

The summery scent's forte is the nice orange-dominated top note, which is a bit less refreshing and bright than some other openings produced by this house, but is still a good start. Unfortunately, the heart notes and particularly the base becomes increasingly generic, and towards the end they are rather weak and predictable. Overall 2.75/5.

This is what I had hoped Bvlgari's Aqva Amara or Cartier's Roadster Sport would smell like. It's an orange-driven fragrance with an aquatic, aqueous sort of sheen and a cooling herbal edge which I interpret as mint despite the fact that it's not one of the officially listed notes in the pyramid. There are some light floral qualities and that clean, bitter-soapy citrus embellishment of the petit grain, giving it a slightly formal, "white button down," impression, reminiscent of more classic eau de colognes . But overall, Pura is an easy wear, and something that can be thrown on casually or feel right at home in a more dressy situation. In fact, it seems like something that would be great to wear to a summer wedding, when the the thought of dutifully sweating it out in a tux keeps you from reaching for those heavier, darker fragrances. Performance is solid, with about 5-7 hours of longevity with good projection for 3. What I enjoy about Pura is its focus on orange, which is a nice departure from the more common citrus notes--it conveys the mandarin with a confident, unapologetic presence and in turn gives it distinction. Paired with a cool, green, herbal quality resembling mint, we're left with a fragrance that is both refreshing and relaxing to wear. Thumbs up and worth sampling. For now my rating stands at 8.5/10

Colonia Pura opens up with bergamot and a very heavy orange, which gives this an interesting start, as outside of the orange, this starts as a pretty standard eau de cologne. Truthfully, I think the orange in this is just a bit too strong for my tastes, as it comes across as "cologne plus orange." Had they ratcheted the orange down, this would have blended better, in my opinion.

It eventually fades down to a woody, musky base that is perfectly acceptable and not unpleasant. The sillage is relatively weak, and as far as longevity goes, it's a cologne. If you're familiar with how Acqua di Parma Colonia (1916) performs, then there's your reference point.

The issue for me is that this scent just does not say anything at all. It's a nondescript cologne that is inoffensive and utterly forgettable. I won't say that it's bad, because it's not. But in no way can I recommend this as something to buy. Because of the price, I'm very tempted to give this a thumbs down, but instead, I will give it a very hesitant neutral. If you find a bottle of Colonia Pura lying on the street, enjoy it. But I wouldn't part with any shekels for this.