The sun hung in the sky like an angry eye, unmoving, merciless. Every dusty step felt like a broken promise of improvement. The cloudless sky created a shimmering heat beneath it, from which his mind conjured liquid, clear, cold water.
His gaze flickered and his thoughts evaporated, barely conceived, they turned to silence and finally dust. His feet found a rhythm that forced him to keep dragging himself forward, not to become a completely dry piece of leather, like his throat already was.
He only looked up when the first breeze in hours gently brushed across his face. Before him stood a sign. In disbelief, he closed his eyes. It was hard for him to open them again, but when he did, he saw the sign once more. He stumbled now more hastily. “Oasis No. 7 - Drinks, Dreams & Dust” he read with squinted eyes. He followed the arrow beneath the letters with his gaze and noticed a shape in the distance, bright, flickering, continuously melting into multicolored hues. White, angular edges emerged from the heat haze as he got closer.
Finally, he stood before the round, recessed archway of the whitewashed Mediterranean flat-roofed house, which smelled chalky and whose walls beckoned him coolly inside. Colorful LED lights lined the walls, and he didn’t even notice the sparse windows, for before him stood a bar.
“Water,” he croaked to the bartender. The bartender raised one corner of his mouth and nodded at him. Swiftly, he grabbed a heavy long drink glass, set it down in front of him, opened a drawer from which cool mist emerged, and pulled out a perfectly shaped greenish lemon. The bartender's speed took on new dimensions as he rolled the lemon softly and sliced it. But when he turned on the tap and the water shot into the glass, the half-thirsty man realized that impatience was no longer just pulling at him, but also pleading. A chrome siphon came into play, bubbling not only the water but also the pronounced desire to finally drink.
“Here you go.” The bartender set the glass in front of him, and his thirst knew no manners anymore. He drank. The water fizzed, electrifying his mouth like a kiss after a long abstinence. A hint of citrus cut through the fatigue of his senses with its fine acidity. The lemon gave the water a soul, providing long-awaited relief and freshness.
“Another please,” he said breathlessly towards the bartender, who was just adjusting his bow tie. He could hardly hear himself anymore. Around him, the bar disappeared. Shady afternoons under lemon trees that he had never experienced appeared before his eyes. He drank and dreamed. And when he woke up, everything was dusty, except for his memory.
Blanc Polychrome is refreshing, it calms, carries me to another place, and almost makes me feel like I could drink it. To me, it smells like sparkling lemon water. But it also has a fig-leaf green quality and a bit of bitter moss, and if I may let my imagination run a bit, somehow even like rain. Ambroxan is also present here, but I don’t find it disturbing; rather, it serves as a framework on which the fresh notes, foremost the juicy-looking lemon, sit and enjoy themselves. There’s also a clean, warm musk as a gentle base. The rhubarb primarily makes it zesty and gives it a pleasant acidity. Lavender gives it a wonderful balsamic quality that I wouldn’t have expected in a freshie. The scent also has a sweet, slightly floral side. I had thought of orange blossom, but it’s actually mandarin and jasmine. Blanc Polychrome is a modern scent, yes, also synthetic, but in the best way, in my opinion.
And with that: Cheers - to the moment when you realize that your imagination tastes better than reality.
Top Notes 
Lemon
Mandarin orange
Rhubarb
Heart Notes 
Lavender
Fig leaf
Jasmine
Base Notes 
Ambroxan
Moss
Musk
Metaphysical
Ngarcia
NicheOnly
valhelsingv
CoraKirsch
Jeob
Skydiver19
Ergoproxy
Heikeso
Stulle
