Whoever named DedCool really went for it.
If the company weren't dead cool, they surely would feel pressure to skip town and never look back. A high-stakes risk that paid off, methinks. They have the sophistication that you would attribute to a highfalutin fragrance house like Diptyque but the offbeat sensibilities of a bunch of gutter punks just making art. It’s a combination I’ve long admired in the beauty industry and a way of living I’ve tried to emulate: take your craft (but not yourself) seriously.
DedCool’s fine fragrances are high-quality, waterless, vegan, and carbon-neutral that are unexpected without being unwearable. Each is packaged unassumingly enough with curvy glass and a utilitarian cap. None of them are shaped like Nicki Minaj’s torso or sat atop a cartoonish plastic cloud. There is a sense of restraint when it comes to DedCool. They know they can get away with 501s because anything shiny, leather, or studded would be missing the point.
And now — you can pick them up at Sephora. They brought six scents over to the beauty behemoth, and I don’t know that you could really go wrong with any. Here are my interpretations of DedCool’s collection of eau de parfums.
Madonna Lilly: Prep school dropout
Opens clean with a flush of 90’s aquatic sport — think Ivy League speedos, sailboats, and damp rugby shirts. After a minute, it softens into something adjacent to fabric softener. There’s downy, powdery sandalwood. Perhaps some spice off on the horizon. A handsome woman would feel right at home with a spritz here or there.
Fragrance 02: A funhouse in flames
A carnival just opened up shop next to a blazing forest. After feasting on cotton candy, funnel cakes dusted with confectioner’s sugar, and candied apples, you notice smoke out of the corner of your eye. The neighboring evergreen firs are burning to the ground. You decide to run towards it.
Taunt: A subversive gourmand
A modestly indulgent dessert. A sundae eaten with your hands. A yogurt creamsicle wearing amber panties.
Blonde: Norma Ray with roots
“Not your grandmother’s rose” — or maybe it is. Who cares? What’s old is new, and rose will always be cool. Rose unbuttons itself, making way for a cedar chest filled with violets. Plucked — stem and all. Buried under the bouquet: a single raspberry. Don’t mind if I do.
Red Dakota: Brighter days
A scene-for-scene reenactment of slicing citrus fruit. You get the peel, the oils, the zest, the flesh, and the bit of mist that sticks to your apron.
Milk Layering Fragrance: Keep your friends close and your scent closer
You find your old hoodie from last season. The one that you slept in for weeks on end. You bury your nose in the hood and it smells distinctly like you. Warm, low-frequency musk. Like a clean baby. Almost nothing, but definitely something.
If you’re having trouble deciding — you can grab a discovery set for $30.