Colonia Essenza Acqua di Parma 2010 Eau de Cologne
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Laundry day at granny's
A sterilely tidy room. The floor, as well as the walls, are dressed in easy-to-clean tiles, of course in pure white. And right there in the middle of the room is a steaming wooden tub filled with hot water and kilos of portioned white laundry. In front of it is an old woman, who calmly makes ponderous courses in that very tub with her wooden spoon.
With this impression, the little water from Parma welcomes me: wash day at Omma. As she has always done... felt since 1916. The soap scent smells into the basement hallway and upstairs and awakens associations with purity, cleanliness and a certain order. If it weren't for a few spritzes from those little bottles that Grammy only recently got her hands on.
They were filled with a lemon oil and the other vial smelled just like some of the guests at the first hotel on the square. Grandma always admired them. For their smell, which for them was synonymous with luxury and money. And how did the guests not always rave about the clean-smelling bedclothes? So in with the vials in the wash...it couldn't hurt, she thought to herself.
And no, Grandma was right: these notes actually do not hurt, but they are also only able to cover up the vibe that regularly moves through her house when it's wash day again. Soap and uncompromising cleanliness is the measure of all things. The spicy scent of the wooden tub she perceived anyway only when she rinsed out the soap decoction...
Refreshing towel? Toilet scent? So an overly over-interpreted scent that warms to her great past? Well, I certainly wouldn't offer myself as a star witness in its defense, knowing that there certainly seem to be people who like that vibe. And they certainly get a great crafted fragrance.
For me, however, it's nothing. Like laundry day at Grandma's - as experimental as she may be set - no: I don't want to smell like that. But she also always airs properly. The pepped up soap scent has then also soon warped again... some find it a pity, the other not even so
With this impression, the little water from Parma welcomes me: wash day at Omma. As she has always done... felt since 1916. The soap scent smells into the basement hallway and upstairs and awakens associations with purity, cleanliness and a certain order. If it weren't for a few spritzes from those little bottles that Grammy only recently got her hands on.
They were filled with a lemon oil and the other vial smelled just like some of the guests at the first hotel on the square. Grandma always admired them. For their smell, which for them was synonymous with luxury and money. And how did the guests not always rave about the clean-smelling bedclothes? So in with the vials in the wash...it couldn't hurt, she thought to herself.
And no, Grandma was right: these notes actually do not hurt, but they are also only able to cover up the vibe that regularly moves through her house when it's wash day again. Soap and uncompromising cleanliness is the measure of all things. The spicy scent of the wooden tub she perceived anyway only when she rinsed out the soap decoction...
Refreshing towel? Toilet scent? So an overly over-interpreted scent that warms to her great past? Well, I certainly wouldn't offer myself as a star witness in its defense, knowing that there certainly seem to be people who like that vibe. And they certainly get a great crafted fragrance.
For me, however, it's nothing. Like laundry day at Grandma's - as experimental as she may be set - no: I don't want to smell like that. But she also always airs properly. The pepped up soap scent has then also soon warped again... some find it a pity, the other not even so
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