A year ago, I ordered Good Plan from Perfume Parlour, their dupe of Cruel Intentions. It was stunning. Mysterious. The kind of scent that made people lean in and say, “Who are you?” It was everything a dupe should be: affordable, complex, slightly dangerous.
Fast forward to today. I ordered the same scent again. Same name, same bottle, same company — entirely different experience. What arrived was not Good Plan. It was Cheap Plan. It smelled like sadness in a mall. Like someone tried to clone sophistication using printer ink and a wet sock.
I emailed them. I WhatsApped them. I pleaded for some form of human decency. They asked me to return the bottle — which I did, at my own expense (€15). I even sent the old version, the real dupe, so they could compare and perhaps wonder what went wrong in their lab or their lives.
According to the track & trace, they received the package. According to Perfume Parlour? Radio silence. No refund. No explanation. No apology. Not even a sad thumbs-up emoji.
This isn’t customer service. This is a disappearing act. This is Kafka with top notes of betrayal.
Very bad service.
Very, very, very bad service.
If you’re thinking of ordering, just spray vinegar on your neck and save yourself the heartbreak.
