Unlike her responsible older sister Onda, Rubj could be considered the black sheep of her fragrant family; the non-conforming coquette whose principles are - by some measure or another - really rather corrupt. In extrait form, she is unscrupulously flirtatious... a dancing nymph whose alabaster hips sway with calculation under sheer scarlet silk. Mouth-watering citruses, Moroccan orange blossom and opulent jasmine cavort with a very carnal tuberose and titillating musks to create an extrait that is dewy, voluptuous and provocative. To the nose, it feels plump and succulent... an olfactory venus flytrap.
Rubj's creator Vero Kern has enhanced the top notes of her eau de parfum variation without dishonouring the original. Here though, Rubj takes on another persona... one whose principles are still in tact (even if only on the surface). In this instance, she will first hold you at arms length; her cheeks flushed with coyness. The eau de parfum opens with a note much like cumin which will challenge you and act as a moral obstruction before you may be allowed to savour her fruits. Only when she is ready, she will lean in with her vermillion painted lips; as spirited and as impish as always. Rubj will romance you all night, but when you awaken, she will be gone in the morning.
Vero Kern not only manages to beguile and bewitch with Rubj, but does so by breathing an air of nostalgia and sentiment into her lungs. Much like my beloved Onda, this perfume also resonates with the classic perfumes of the early 20th century.