01/01/2021
Parfümlein
119 Reviews
Translated
Show original
Parfümlein
Top Review
29
French soul food
For one it's chocolate pudding with custard, for another chicken fricassee with rice. For the American author of a meditation book I own, it's corn porridge doused with hot pinto beans cooked for hours, and a cold pilsner. For the French author of a diet book I also own (howl), it's big slices of fresh bread spread with crème fraîche and dusted with cocoa. And for most, it's definitely a sweet, warm dish to spoon up: Semolina porridge with hot butter. Rice pudding with cinnamon and sugar.
Soul food, especially of its childish variety, is necessary for survival for anyone overtaken by the daily grind every now and then, which is probably why sweet soul food in particular is so often the mental base for gourmands. Sure, there are perfumes that imitate the scent of freshly cooked sugo with minced meat and tomatoes. Such scents even cost a lot of money. But you usually come across them in some niche sale. They may be a masterpiece in terms of craftsmanship - olfactorically they are as superfluous as a third shoulder. Sweet soul food, on the other hand, exposed and constructed in a seductively comforting scent and captured in a precious bottle, satisfies our need to let go, fly, cuddle, dream and feel safe in a particularly comforting way.
One such fragrance, of course, is "Lait de Vanille." Of the many Chabaud gourmands, it is not without reason rather restrained rated, he does not come up to the mimetic-olfactory images of our childhood memories: the hot cocoa after sledding, the delicious caramel sweets at grandma's house you do not immediately recognize here.
This is due to the top note, which shows itself a little bulky; a little bitchy it closes itself to the "Aaahhh" and "Ooooh" experience, because it is so difficult to assign, and the attempts in the statements to determine it probably confirm this. There is something like hot, sweetened milk, not burnt milk, not sour milk, not coked-out breast milk. It's already just hot milk and it's sugar, it's just that the two take quite a while to come together.
Then, in the heart note, the difficult couple succeeds in this challenge and an incredibly soft, sweet, but not too sweet, delicate, milky scent opens up, perhaps most reminiscent of semolina porridge with sugar, only without cinnamon. From that moment on, "Lait de Vanille" is a lovely, pleasant and wearable gourmand that holds back on the sillage and wraps itself around you like a tender embrace, granting a privacy that doesn't tolerate onlookers and so can never seem too ostentatious. Light vanilla and caramel tones, as the pyramid calls them, slowly flow into the fragrance picture and give it depth and also rudimentary complexity.
"Lait de Vanille" is in this respect a gourmand that a) is simple in terms of the number of its notes and also its development, b) is very pleasant and delicate in its simplicity and c) is just right for lovers of these fragrances or for longing for lost childhood. It is not a star among gourmands, but it does nothing wrong either. The fact that the top note is so slightly lost in space illustrates a bit of the process it takes to make a nice semolina porridge: patiently stirring with a whisk so nothing burns, and carefully adding sugar so it doesn't get too sweet. So if the image of a loving mother at the stove emerges - preferably a pretty French one, whose strands of hair falling into her face symbolise the serenity of a woman at peace with herself, and whose flower-printed apron accentuates her slender waist - then ideally "Lait de Vanille" really has done everything right in its quest for childhood.
Soul food, especially of its childish variety, is necessary for survival for anyone overtaken by the daily grind every now and then, which is probably why sweet soul food in particular is so often the mental base for gourmands. Sure, there are perfumes that imitate the scent of freshly cooked sugo with minced meat and tomatoes. Such scents even cost a lot of money. But you usually come across them in some niche sale. They may be a masterpiece in terms of craftsmanship - olfactorically they are as superfluous as a third shoulder. Sweet soul food, on the other hand, exposed and constructed in a seductively comforting scent and captured in a precious bottle, satisfies our need to let go, fly, cuddle, dream and feel safe in a particularly comforting way.
One such fragrance, of course, is "Lait de Vanille." Of the many Chabaud gourmands, it is not without reason rather restrained rated, he does not come up to the mimetic-olfactory images of our childhood memories: the hot cocoa after sledding, the delicious caramel sweets at grandma's house you do not immediately recognize here.
This is due to the top note, which shows itself a little bulky; a little bitchy it closes itself to the "Aaahhh" and "Ooooh" experience, because it is so difficult to assign, and the attempts in the statements to determine it probably confirm this. There is something like hot, sweetened milk, not burnt milk, not sour milk, not coked-out breast milk. It's already just hot milk and it's sugar, it's just that the two take quite a while to come together.
Then, in the heart note, the difficult couple succeeds in this challenge and an incredibly soft, sweet, but not too sweet, delicate, milky scent opens up, perhaps most reminiscent of semolina porridge with sugar, only without cinnamon. From that moment on, "Lait de Vanille" is a lovely, pleasant and wearable gourmand that holds back on the sillage and wraps itself around you like a tender embrace, granting a privacy that doesn't tolerate onlookers and so can never seem too ostentatious. Light vanilla and caramel tones, as the pyramid calls them, slowly flow into the fragrance picture and give it depth and also rudimentary complexity.
"Lait de Vanille" is in this respect a gourmand that a) is simple in terms of the number of its notes and also its development, b) is very pleasant and delicate in its simplicity and c) is just right for lovers of these fragrances or for longing for lost childhood. It is not a star among gourmands, but it does nothing wrong either. The fact that the top note is so slightly lost in space illustrates a bit of the process it takes to make a nice semolina porridge: patiently stirring with a whisk so nothing burns, and carefully adding sugar so it doesn't get too sweet. So if the image of a loving mother at the stove emerges - preferably a pretty French one, whose strands of hair falling into her face symbolise the serenity of a woman at peace with herself, and whose flower-printed apron accentuates her slender waist - then ideally "Lait de Vanille" really has done everything right in its quest for childhood.
15 Comments