Fleur de Rocaille Caron 1993 Eau de Parfum

In my city, there is a Rococo hall that was not destroyed and never needed restoration. If the archives are to be believed, Marie Antoinette danced there. Of course, there is no heating and no electricity, and at the rare concerts held there, the chandeliers are adorned with hundreds of candles, so that the hall is still bathed in festive light by its abundant gold and mirrors. The term Rococo is derived from the rocailles, those playful ornaments that are so typical of the style.

When I spray Fleur de Rocaille, this playful splendor radiates towards me. It is not the force of the Baroque, nor the romantic kitsch of other floral perfumes that imposes itself on me. Yes, the scent is floral, but also majestic, even somewhat aloof. This is how one experiences the mentioned hall on weekdays, when one is lucky enough to stand alone in it, without tourists and without the murmurs of tour guides. Simply standing and looking, or in our case, smelling.

The floral heart note soon gives way to a fine soapiness, without losing elegance. I could imagine that a pure perfume of Chanel No. 5, after many hours on the skin, could have a similar effect. I have never experienced that.

The base is then no longer particularly spectacular. It is simple and beautiful and lasts about 2 hours on me, then the fine impression dissipates, leaving me with the desire to wear this scent more often. Not in the evening, at grand celebrations, that place is held by Jicky for me, and not in everyday life with house cleaning, shopping, and tax returns, but in leisurely free time, a time of leisure, when one can engage with the beautiful things in life.