The Story
Why it exists.
The beginning
Every fragrance Francesca Bianchi makes is a story, and Once Upon a Time wears its title like a promise. The idea: take the sensory memories most people leave behind in childhood, sticky fingers from candied almonds, the static hum of a cotton candy cone, mandarin peel peeled by a fireplace, and rebuild them for an adult palate. Not a departure from her previous work, but a deliberate recalibration. Her earlier releases like The Dark Side and The Black Knight explored shadow and complexity. Here, she turns toward warmth and light without losing the depth that makes her work worth wearing. The name itself is an invitation: step into the story, and see what it smells like.
What makes this work where other gourmands fail is the animalic counterweight buried in the drydown. Castoreum, the material derived from beaver glands that gives Bianchi fans something to hunt for, grounds the cotton candy sweetness and stops it from reading as naive. Cotton candy is ephemeral by nature. Castoreum is not. The tension between them is where the fragrance lives. Sugared almonds (confetti) function similarly: familiar, festive, Italian-wedding-familiar, but supported by patchouli and cedar that remind you this is a composed adult perfume, not a nostalgia accident. The vanilla isn't decorative. It builds a structure the other materials settle into, hour after hour.
The evolution
One spray. The mandarin arrives first, bright, citrus-zested, a flash of pink pepper that keeps things awake. Within minutes, the cotton candy takes over. Not sticky-sweet, but soft and cloud-like, backed by confetti's sugary almond warmth. The caramelized hazelnut surfaces around the 30-minute mark, adding a roasted depth that feels like reaching into a candy jar and finding something with actual weight. By hour two, the castoreum arrives. That's the tell. That's the sweaty skin underneath the sweetness, the moment the county fair becomes intimate. The vanilla and musk build from here, settling into something close and warm, barely leaving the skin but refusing to leave. By hour six, you're left with cedar, patchouli, and a ghost of vanilla that stays until you shower.
Cultural impact
As a 2025 release, Once Upon a Time enters a fragrance landscape where sweet gourmands have largely been dismissed by niche enthusiasts as safe or simple. Bianchi's choice to work in this register, and to include castoreum as a structural element rather than a footnote, is a quiet argument against that dismissal. Reviewers who track her work note this as a departure from The Dark Side and The Black Knight, but one that maintains her characteristic depth. Wearers describe it as the scent of someone who chose comfort without surrendering complexity.
