Powder On The Pillow: Juliette Has a Gun Powder Love Review

If you think powdery perfumes are all corsets and cold cream, Juliette Has a Gun Powder Love wants a word. This is not your grandmother’s vanity. It’s a soft-focus filter in scent form, a misty veil that turns down the contrast and turns up the intimacy. I wore it on a gray morning and it felt like being wrapped in a freshly laundered sweater you’re not ready to take off.

Created by Romano Ricci, Powder Love leans into the house’s keep-it-close aesthetic. On my skin the opening is a pale, airy powder that feels more skin-care than lipstick. Hints of iris and heliotrope vibes float in, creamy and slightly almond-soft, never dusty. A plush musk hums underneath, the kind that reads like warm skin after a shower, not laundry detergent. There’s a faint cosmetic glow that suggests a lipstick-in-the-bag moment, but it stays whisper light. The effect is cocooning, intimate, a touch addictive.

Sillage sits low. Expect a personal halo rather than a trail. Longevity is quietly persistent. I caught it on my scarf the next day, a gentle reminder rather than a leftover. It wears beautifully in cool weather, mornings at the office, or that no-perfume perfume mood when you still want to feel polished. Layering with a simple body cream amplifies the cashmere texture without breaking the hush.

The pleasure here is texture. Powder Love doesn’t chase fireworks or gourmand sugar highs. It plays with the soft side of powder, all blur and body heat, and it never collapses into talc. If you’ve been powder-shy, this is the gateway. If you love the brand’s minimalist skin scents, you’ll recognize the DNA, now wrapped in a gentle cosmetic bloom.

Is it groundbreaking? No. Is it beautifully judged and quietly irresistible? Absolutely. Powder Love is the kind of scent you wear for yourself first. Someone else might only notice when they lean in. Which is the point.