Fendi Theorema
Fendi’s Theorema, translated I believe as “Theorem,” distills warm sun upon the skin with a simple spritz. It parlays the quiet pleasure of a satisfied cat napping in a window sunbeam into a fragrance.
Theorema brightens the senses with juiceless bursts of orange, which my nose identifies as mostly neroli. As orange peels back (har-har), nutmeg and cinnamon spice the dehydrated fruit. But these spices exist heatlessly. They hang upon my skin in a clarified angular air, devoid of any expected pungency. Yet they are unmistakably spices. Oh, but there is more to come.
Sandalwood plumes skyward, however it is as smokeless as an unlit stick of sandalwood incense. It smells dry, seeming like freshly sharpened pencils. And then I sense chocolate without smelling any chocolate at all. But wait, for this is leading to yet more discoveries.
I perceive patchouli leaves: I feel a bit self-conscious about mentioning it, so I want to note it is played as a subtle melody. It’s rather like the gentle hum of a keyboard behind the louder themes of a guitar-driven song. Amber and more dry wood form the base of the scent, but never at any point are the orange or cinnamon lost.
This fragrance contains all the complexity we expect from heavier “orientals,” but it is lighter. Effortless, even.
I choose carefully when to wear Theorema. To me, this perfume is worn to express joyful contentment. By this I do not mean the sort of “joy” that leads one to whoop and jump on couches, nor the sort of contentment that renders one smugly self-satisfied. It is the quiet happiness of enjoying your place and time in the world. What I sniff in Theorema is what I hear in Crowded House’s song Distant Sun (click to hear a brief clip, or right click and select “Save Target As.”) Both creations only reflect this emotional state back at me, for they cannot realistically induce it. Yet what a small and precious moment they approximate. All I require of this fragrance is that it lets its easy warmth radiate around me.
Theorema is no longer being sold in the US anymore. It is worth hunting down. I am of the opinion this fragrance did not catch on as it ought to have due to poor marketing. An old commercial from 1998 featuring cutesy cartoon characters leaves me perplexed, and a newer dark-and-stormy-night commercial doesn’t particularly connote what the juice of the perfume itself is like. Fendi has been recently swallowed up by the leviathan LVMH. They have focused their attention on turning Fendi into another of their mass market cash cows, and I fear Theorema is one of the casualties of this push. It’s a work of art, and as a majority of artists know, art alone does not always pay the bills. I understand the business drive to concentrate on the fast money-making products, but the slow rejection of Theorema still upsets me anyhow.
Image at top a collage: perfume bottle photo is from strawberrnet.com, and diagram is from dm.unipi.it. Second image entitled Golden Rectangle, by Dennis Hartley (freedgallery.com.) Second image entitled Echoes, by Jeff White (beppugallery.com.) Third image entitled Trees IX, by Robert Cook (artforte.com.) Fourth image entitled Lama at Sunset, by Jian Hai Zhao (artforte.com.) Last image from http://ihatemyflatmate.blogspot.com, a really funny blog to read that I recommend to anyone who has ever put up with crazy roomates. The song “Distant Sun” is off of Crowded Houses album Together Alone, available through Djangos or in a set with the album Woodface fromMusic Millenium