02/19/2013

Sherapop
1239 Reviews

Sherapop
Top Review
13
Regal and Divine
Somehow Guerlain CHAMADE survived in all its glory and splendor and nobility. Nearly everything else chez Guerlain went under the accountant's knife and ended up looking like a botched nose job, like the mother of an ex beau of mine. She was so beautiful before, I know because I saw photos hanging in their home. She had a nose with character, which made her look strong and wise. Then she went under the knife and came out looking like she'd had Christie Brinkley's pug pushed into her face. As though she were Mr Potato Head with changeable face parts. The result was infelicitous, to say the least. Yes, sad to say: she looked more like Mr. Potato Head than she did like a human being and nothing like her former self. So, no: Michael Jackson was not alone, may they both rest in peace. Moral of the story: don't go under the knife, you'll come out looking worse than before and, on top of that, you'll be scarred for life with the badge of your low self-esteem.
Nothing of the sort has happened to CHAMADE, one of a cluster of perfumes which I reach for when I'm looking for genuine beauty. It's a perfectly balanced composition of mixed floral and various and sundry other notes with a light aldehydic opening--some days it seems stronger than others--followed by the sudden plummeting of tons of rose petals from above as though they have been released like pent-up raindrops trapped in a cloud until God or reasonable facsimile scratches the glass. In a swoosh they tumble down in all their glory from the heavens onto my head.
The scent is truly divine, and every time I wear this perfume I recognize again how so much of what goes by the name of "perfume" these days is really nothing of the kind. We have lots of fragrances and scents, but how many bona fide perfumes are being launched these days?
CHAMADE has survived, a reminder of the good old days, when perfumers toiled for years before launching a single creation rather than rolling out dozens of random-note generator Lego castles at the same time.
Nothing of the sort has happened to CHAMADE, one of a cluster of perfumes which I reach for when I'm looking for genuine beauty. It's a perfectly balanced composition of mixed floral and various and sundry other notes with a light aldehydic opening--some days it seems stronger than others--followed by the sudden plummeting of tons of rose petals from above as though they have been released like pent-up raindrops trapped in a cloud until God or reasonable facsimile scratches the glass. In a swoosh they tumble down in all their glory from the heavens onto my head.
The scent is truly divine, and every time I wear this perfume I recognize again how so much of what goes by the name of "perfume" these days is really nothing of the kind. We have lots of fragrances and scents, but how many bona fide perfumes are being launched these days?
CHAMADE has survived, a reminder of the good old days, when perfumers toiled for years before launching a single creation rather than rolling out dozens of random-note generator Lego castles at the same time.