01/03/2021
Marieposa
33 Reviews
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Marieposa
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Easy like Sunday morning ..
... or rather "Welcome to the coffee house"?
Freshly ground coffee is one of those fragrances that I love in everyday life without restriction, but which I meet in perfume for good reason with a fair amount of skepticism. So far, every coffee perfume experience has left me with puckered lips. Instead of fresh beans, I smelled coffee breath; instead of coffee shop, I smelled unwashed breakfast dishes. I feel the same way about tuberose, by the way. I have one in a flower pot on the terrace and in summer, when it blooms - and it doesn't bloom every year, the bitch - I would love to put a tent in the garden to enjoy the scent around the clock. In the bottle, on the other hand, all tuberose soliflores have left me somewhat perplexed - or completely overwhelmed. And even if it is only included as a fragrance note, tuberose has already put me off many a perfume.
Bad cards for Café Tuberosa. One would like to think ...
Somewhat reluctantly, I wet my pulse with a drop from the sachet, a door opens and blows me, along with a gust of harsh December wind, into a warm, cozy café. The veritable scent of freshly ground coffee beans fills the air, the coffee machine hisses behind the counter, and creamy sweet delicacies tempt me on the étagère on top. At the table in the corner, an elegant woman sits in front of a piece of Sachertorte with whipped cream, a Kleiner Schwarzer steaming in her cup. It's all there, the indescribable coffee aroma, the muted chocolaty sweetness, the wood of the plank floor but also of the counter and the creamy scent of the white flowers on the connoisseur's table. Or is it her floral perfume rising from her décolletage, gently interweaving with the other notes?
As the fragrance develops, the coffee slowly recedes, but never completely disappears. Patchouli is listed and may provide that illusion in the base. More and more, the florals take over. Tuberose? I don't know. Rose? Hmm...I'm imagining more of a tropical fantasy flower. Or even coffee flowers?
Although I wouldn't necessarily call Café Tuberosa a gourmand scent, it always retains something edible, creamy, delicious, without ever losing the luminosity of an eau de cologne.
While I sniff my arm in fascination and completely forget to grind coffee for Sunday breakfast, the question gnaws at me, how long I can stretch this sample, so that this beautiful, light-hearted fragrance accompanies me as long as possible.
Freshly ground coffee is one of those fragrances that I love in everyday life without restriction, but which I meet in perfume for good reason with a fair amount of skepticism. So far, every coffee perfume experience has left me with puckered lips. Instead of fresh beans, I smelled coffee breath; instead of coffee shop, I smelled unwashed breakfast dishes. I feel the same way about tuberose, by the way. I have one in a flower pot on the terrace and in summer, when it blooms - and it doesn't bloom every year, the bitch - I would love to put a tent in the garden to enjoy the scent around the clock. In the bottle, on the other hand, all tuberose soliflores have left me somewhat perplexed - or completely overwhelmed. And even if it is only included as a fragrance note, tuberose has already put me off many a perfume.
Bad cards for Café Tuberosa. One would like to think ...
Somewhat reluctantly, I wet my pulse with a drop from the sachet, a door opens and blows me, along with a gust of harsh December wind, into a warm, cozy café. The veritable scent of freshly ground coffee beans fills the air, the coffee machine hisses behind the counter, and creamy sweet delicacies tempt me on the étagère on top. At the table in the corner, an elegant woman sits in front of a piece of Sachertorte with whipped cream, a Kleiner Schwarzer steaming in her cup. It's all there, the indescribable coffee aroma, the muted chocolaty sweetness, the wood of the plank floor but also of the counter and the creamy scent of the white flowers on the connoisseur's table. Or is it her floral perfume rising from her décolletage, gently interweaving with the other notes?
As the fragrance develops, the coffee slowly recedes, but never completely disappears. Patchouli is listed and may provide that illusion in the base. More and more, the florals take over. Tuberose? I don't know. Rose? Hmm...I'm imagining more of a tropical fantasy flower. Or even coffee flowers?
Although I wouldn't necessarily call Café Tuberosa a gourmand scent, it always retains something edible, creamy, delicious, without ever losing the luminosity of an eau de cologne.
While I sniff my arm in fascination and completely forget to grind coffee for Sunday breakfast, the question gnaws at me, how long I can stretch this sample, so that this beautiful, light-hearted fragrance accompanies me as long as possible.
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