It’s a holiday Wednesday here, and I wanted to look at one of the more high-profile releases of 2025 so far, Kurky by Francis Kurkdjian. Even the most passionate supporters of Kurkdjian might find it difficult to praise some of his recent work. Perhaps, through gritted teeth. It’s been one uninspiring release after another since he took over as in-house perfumer at Dior. Commercial considerations see him somewhat stunted on Dior’s mainstream side of things. Let’s face it, flankers for Sauvage and Miss Dior aren’t likely to be overly memorable. But it’s the higher-end private line where he should shine. And all of those have been anticlimactic, too.
In between times, he’s released several perfumes for his eponymous brand (MFK). To his credit, one of these is a re-release of the much-missed Absolue Pour Le Soir in 2024. I’ve never been the biggest fan of MFK. However, I can’t sit here pompously and denounce his brand and fragrances, blasting them as overpriced and advising against buying them, as I own two of his Aqua fragrances. I find them “easy-reach” perfumes. In 2025 comes Kurky.
I first encountered Kurky about 2 months ago, when I saw the fragrance at my local Mecca Cosmetica (an excellent perfume/cosmetics franchise here in Australia). I sprayed it twice and went about my business. After being out for two hours, I realised I could not smell a thing. I couldn’t even recall getting any whiffs of it as I went about my errands. So, I went back to the store the following weekend and repeated my steps. And again nothing. Indeed, I could barely detect it after the initial spray. I chalked it up to mall-borne olfactory overload. Kurky became lost in the scented shuffle, or perhaps I was just anosmic.
So again I returned to the store and asked the sales assistant (many of whom I’ve built a rapport with over the years) for a decant. They kindly obliged. As they filled the vial, I got talking to a couple of them about Kurky, and they were pretty adamant that Kurky would be a challenger to the popularity crown of BR540. I found this hard to believe. Especially given my initial experience with the fragrance. But Mecca staff are knowledgeable; they know perfume, and they’re privy to customer spending habits. It’s possible, I suppose. For what it’s worth, both seemed aware that Kurkdjian is now the in-house perfumer at Dior. Indeed, a learned bunch.
They explained that Kurky was Kurkdjian’s childhood nickname and that this new perfume was released as a reminder of his childhood. Specifically designed to mimic gummy bear candies, Kurky reconnects Francis with his favourite memories from his youth. I thanked the sales assistants and, armed with this knowledge and my decant, I was ready to tackle Kurky again.
I can at least detect Kurky now. Indeed, it comes across as fruity and musky, reminiscent of gummy candies. But, all I could think of when I was smelling Kurky was one of my favourite childhood cartoons, Adventures of the Gummi Bears. They used to bounce about, hopped up on a magic potion called gummiberry juice. I went online and looked them up for old time’s sake, and I had the theme song stuck in my head for the rest of the day; it’s very late 80s. Maybe Kurky smells a bit like gummiberry juice.
With the Gummi Bears theme bouncing around in my head all day, Kurkdjian succeeded in stirring up some nostalgia for me. But ultimately, Kurky isn’t something I would wear. At least it isn’t gratingly sweet and monotonously musky as another fruit/musk, Erba Pura. Like the Xerjoff, the fruits in Kurky aren’t immediately discernible. The sales assistants mentioned peach, strawberry, and raspberry. I’d go with peach and the tartness of raspberry. Kurky doesn’t have the sweetness to suggest strawberry. As a whole, though, Kurky smells relatively innocuous, but not juvenile.
It’s a curious piece of work. I took my decant of Kurky around to my niece Emily (who’s six going on seven) and asked her what she thought. Emily loves BR540. So, I thought this might be a good litmus test for Kurky. I explained the gummy candy inspiration, and she thought it was similar. Indeed, she enjoyed Kurky, but BR540 still had her heart. I then asked her how much she thought a bottle of Kurky or BR40 might cost. Thirty dollars, she replied. Try between 330 and 430 dollars, I said. She fell to the ground dramatically like a character in a Shakespearean tragedy.
Even a 6-year-old, with no genuine concept of money, seems to know perfume is overpriced! My sampling experiment with my niece led me to believe Kurky might struggle to replicate the success of BR540. Will it find an audience? Will enough adults be willing to drop a considerable sum of money on something so simple? Kids won’t buy it; they don’t have the disposable income. I’m no fan of BR540, but that perfume has more intricacies, more complexity than Kurky. Kurky might be curious, but BR540 is clever. Time will tell, I guess.
I gave my niece the decant of Kurky. It suits her sunny, happy disposition. The perfume world should be putting Francis Kurkdjian on notice. He has such an important role to play, especially with his tenure at Dior. He can create trends and leave a legacy. But, he’ll need to get those juices flowing. And by juices, I mean creative juices, not ones of the gummiberry variety.
Have you sampled Kurky? Thoughts on Kurkdjian’s term at Dior?
Note: Bottle image from MFK. All other photos are my own.