Loulou Cacharel 1987 Eau de Parfum

Since I was actually a late bloomer in puberty and also in other ways, I only got to know Loulou at the beginning of the 90s. Until then, I had no idea that there was such a thing as perfume at all. This may be because I spent most of my childhood in the tropics and subtropics and was generally known only as a bush baby. Now there were TVs and commercials, which I found totally ridiculous at the time, because who buys a product just for the sake of advertising? But when Loulou floated across the screen (which I actually remember as a blonde) the 1st world with all its decadence and consumerism had me on the hook.
This lady expressed elegance and youthful freshness, but only at first sight. When she breathes her : Oui c'est moi at the end, one knows that this lady is a disreputable slut. Anyway, that's how I interpreted it. So the fragrance had to be tested and, as expected, it totally killed me. No matter, I wanted it, it reminded me of the frangipani flowers in my childhood (I know they are not in there). That narcotic, exuberant scent I knew about. When we went in the 10th grade for 3 weeks to exchange students, my host mother gave me this perfume (with the hope I would come back and marry her son). On the ile de Ré there was a big farewell party where of course people danced and I sprayed Loulou for the first time, probably too much. In any case, I was invited to dance by a handsome, amazingly tall French boy. And at some point he asked: Do fait embrasser? Sure, I think hugging's okay. But somehow I must have slept in French class, in any case I had those huge lips on me - disgusting was my first thought and the 2nd Loulou is to blame. My girlfriend was totally jealous, so I gave the perfume away right away. Now I think I wasn't ready for Loulou then, no wicked femme fatale. I would like to sniff that again, for the wicked, suggestive there are more subtle scents today. I should have known: I dedicate my first comment to Loulou...