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Notes11/23/2014
GothicHeart
86 Reviews
GothicHeart
Helpful Review
5
Amour perpétuel...
Histoire d'Amour... Oui, mais quel sorte d'amour est-il? It's strange, but this is one of the most ambiguous perfumes I have ever smelled. At first it looks and smells like it comes right out of the pages of a Victorian horror novel. This is how a theatre dressing room would smell back then. But whoever would be waiting for the young thespian outside, could be nothing less than Jack the Ripper. So the poor beatiful thing would meet her doom-laden fate, but smelling divinely nevertheless.
On the other hand it smells of something a firebrand would wear. Tough and hard-boiled, but straight and honest to the extreme. I don't know, how can be something romantic and cynical at the same time? Oakmoss battling narcissus and osmanthus quarrelling with basil? I love to watch such fights taking place! Their outcome is usually a mess, except some messes are unique and stunning.
And concerning its "gender", this one's feminine and (I'm Francisco "Paco" Rabaneda Cuervo and I've made) 1 Million (in a month) is masculine? Right... O tempora o mores!
Now, I can already hear the Old Lady Alert screaming, and see youngsters pointing at its "outmoded" bottle in sheer horror. So, do we have an old lady here? Of course we do! The youngsters are right, but also so wrong. She is an old lady indeed. Only this one packs a pair of knuckledusters inside her old lady bag. And after flooring any arrogant and pompous brat, she'll kickstart her old lady motorcycle and vanish into the sunset. The very kind of an old lady who can use this gorgeous bottle to spray a mesmerising shroud around her, but can also bludgeon every hater to submission, before (s)he'll be able to say: "Hey, it smells like old la..." Bang! You're down! Now, be smart enough to stay down and kowtow before her prodigious awesomeness! It's so much fun being an old lady sometimes! Especially when embarassing clueless newbies is the name of your game.
I can't stress enough how much I miss smelling perfumes of this magnitude and quality in public nowadays. So, ladies, please, wear this and go somewhere. In a club, to a ball, it doesn't matter; somewhere. If there's any gallant and fine gentleman there, rest asured he'll come directly to you, like drawn by a magnet, tossing every fruity-candy-sweety girl aside in his wake. And perhaps your Histoire D'Amour will be born...
On the other hand it smells of something a firebrand would wear. Tough and hard-boiled, but straight and honest to the extreme. I don't know, how can be something romantic and cynical at the same time? Oakmoss battling narcissus and osmanthus quarrelling with basil? I love to watch such fights taking place! Their outcome is usually a mess, except some messes are unique and stunning.
And concerning its "gender", this one's feminine and (I'm Francisco "Paco" Rabaneda Cuervo and I've made) 1 Million (in a month) is masculine? Right... O tempora o mores!
Now, I can already hear the Old Lady Alert screaming, and see youngsters pointing at its "outmoded" bottle in sheer horror. So, do we have an old lady here? Of course we do! The youngsters are right, but also so wrong. She is an old lady indeed. Only this one packs a pair of knuckledusters inside her old lady bag. And after flooring any arrogant and pompous brat, she'll kickstart her old lady motorcycle and vanish into the sunset. The very kind of an old lady who can use this gorgeous bottle to spray a mesmerising shroud around her, but can also bludgeon every hater to submission, before (s)he'll be able to say: "Hey, it smells like old la..." Bang! You're down! Now, be smart enough to stay down and kowtow before her prodigious awesomeness! It's so much fun being an old lady sometimes! Especially when embarassing clueless newbies is the name of your game.
I can't stress enough how much I miss smelling perfumes of this magnitude and quality in public nowadays. So, ladies, please, wear this and go somewhere. In a club, to a ball, it doesn't matter; somewhere. If there's any gallant and fine gentleman there, rest asured he'll come directly to you, like drawn by a magnet, tossing every fruity-candy-sweety girl aside in his wake. And perhaps your Histoire D'Amour will be born...
