Orgasmo was inspired by a cup of iced almond coffee that Hilde Soliani had one day at the beach. That must've been one heck of a brew. I envision Hilde receiving her beverage, taking an unsuspecting sip, and shazam! Her eyes roll back into her head, her lungs exhale, the surf crashes into the sand, and she gasps for someone to bring her a whole pitcher of the stuff. It was so good that life choices were made. Artists are like that.
Unfortunately, artists are also a bit narcissistic, and Orgasmo is a work of pure narcissism. It doesn't take much to do a flavor in perfume form. IFF stands for "International Flavors & Fragrances." It all comes from the same place, and throwing some amaretto, a few milky lactones, and a dash of vanilla into an EDT isn't rocket science. What would possess anyone to think that 100 ml of a digestif on the rocks is worth $175?
As advertised, it begins with a cool and woody almond, followed by a sensation of plush milkiness that gets ever more vanillic on the retrohale. Eventually it settles into the staleness of a sorta-coffee, sorta-amaretto, sorta-milk thing. It is beige and well behaved and utterly torpid, with nothing else happening in its six-hour run. Orgasmo is as exciting as finding a copy of Ethan Frome on the Jersey Transit to New Brunswick. Crack it open, settle in, try not to smell anything, and know you aren't living your best life.