Neon, but make it soft: my first look at Andrea Maack’s Neon Veil

I love a good contradiction, and Neon Veil might be the most intriguing one I’ve seen this month. “Neon” shouts. “Veil” whispers. When an artist like Andrea Maack puts those words together for a unisex release, I start clearing space on my skin for test strips and a very quiet moment.

If you know Andrea Maack, you know she doesn’t do loud for the sake of loud. Her work tends to feel calibrated, like a light switch you can dim until the room feels human again. So what does a neon veil smell like? I’m imagining something that glows without glaring - a lucid, modern opening that skates over skin, then a hush of texture that lingers. Maybe a mineral sparkle. Maybe a silk-musk slip. If the name is literal, think translucence with an edge you can’t ignore.

This is billed as unisex, which tracks with the brand’s usual refusal to paint perfume into pink or blue corners. And that’s where Maack’s power often lies for me - in that clean line between conceptual art and wearable intimacy. You can take it to a white-cube gallery or a late train home. It will probably make sense in both places.

I’m not here to parrot press copy or sell you on a story I haven’t lived on skin. Here’s what I can say right now:

• The title Neon Veil is a promise of tension, and tension makes great perfume.
• The artist behind it, Andrea Maack, tends to deliver clarity and mood without clutter.
• A launch next week means the wait is blessedly short.

My plan is simple. I’ll wear it in two test runs - one in daylight, one at night - because a name like this begs for both. If it pulls off that luminous-soft balance, I’ll be the first to tell you it’s a season-starter. If it collapses into generic laundry glow, I’ll say that too.

Put Neon Veil on your radar. If you chase modern, artful unisex perfumes that flirt instead of shout, this could be your next quiet obsession. I’ll report back once it hits my wrists.