White Light deserves a little review. This should be said upfront, as I don't actually consider myself part of the target group. I am definitely not a potential wearer of this voluminous white-flowering fragrance. Such scents do not suit me, feel foreign, like an uncomfortable disguise. Nothing that would entice me. If I were to wander into a boutique for such lush floral bouquets and arrangements, my gaze would instinctively scan the room to see if there might be some refined little cacti hidden in a corner.
But still; the sample was in the discovery set, and I generally like to let my curiosity guide me. So, right onto my wrist with it.
While it doesn't mark a turning point in my perfume orientation, I am nonetheless somewhat impressed. Perhaps I lack experience with such fragrances (be kind, I haven't been testing actively for long), but I have rarely detected the individual nuances so clearly and vividly in a floral-fresh composition.
Instantly, it teleports me to the pedestrian zone of a Provençal old town on a mild summer day. A flower shop - yes, indeed, in full splendor. And from the tiny shop next door wafts the typical lavender soap, in all its confident soapy glory. The freshness is primarily due to sun-ripened citrus fruits.
This is incredibly old-fashioned, without any restraint. Cliché grandma associations in your face. But it is precisely for this directness that I can very much respect Atl. Oblique here, while the evoked summer feelings are exceedingly real. Is it due to the still cold and rainy April weather? Regardless, nothing here is blurred or softened. It does last quite a while, even if not with full radiance. The lavender gradually turns into orange soap, while the white flowers slowly get dusted.
I wouldn't wear it myself, though I might recommend it to some cheerful vintage-loving granny spirits.
