Allure Homme Chanel 1999 Eau de Toilette

“Another round around the block in your passenger seat...
Don’t get out yet, so it stays as it is!”
Lea - Passenger Seat

Signorina 4ajbukoshka is in the same seat.
The driver is none other than Signor Il Herzensbrecher.
Inside the car, unlike outside, it’s pleasantly warm, the seat heater is on, and the Italian is simply “OHMIODIO.”
He looks like Michele Morrone, just younger, with slightly softer facial features and, as if that weren't bad enough, loving, trustworthy eyes. And those curls!
With them, it’s probably like with fragrances: you think you like them or not, you’ve formed your opinion long ago, and suddenly there comes this one that questions everything you thought you knew about your own taste.
Before meeting the Italian, Miss 4ajbukoshka thought she wouldn’t like men with curls. (After all, she has some herself - and they really get on her nerves almost every day.)
She thought she wouldn’t like vetiver.
Just as she used to think Chanel was for grandmas and grandpas with too much money but far too little taste.
Pahahahahaha. Silly little sheep, so much for Koshka.
(Note: Koshka - (female) cat, in Russian)
The Italian, who has gotten to know Miss Verfressovitsch-4ajbukoshka and her strange questions - about his laundry detergent (he doesn’t know, his mother does his laundry), his hair gel (Signorina, is everything else alright with you?), and much more quite well by now, has thought ahead:
In his glove compartment, she finds today, alongside the vegan fruit snacks and the best gummy bears ever, available at Aldi and Rossmann, the bottle of the perfume that accompanies him today.

Allure - not like airs, but like attraction ^ 1000.
That’s exactly what Signor Il Herzensbrecher has, appealing to women of all ages as well as to the taken crowd, who notice or secretly risk a longing glance.
Even if one might think so, he is not a macho, not at all.
He is the type who always lets a lady go first, holds the door for her, is never pushy, just charming and attentive like hardly anyone else.
If hundreds of men could take a page from him, there would still be a decent gentleman left.
He scores with noble restraint, just like Chanel’s Allure.
Although the two sit in the car for a few hours with the windows closed, Allure doesn’t linger in the air for long.

Floral, woody, indefinable.
Signorina has a very sensitive, good nose, but not always the right words for what she feels.
Here it smells warm, soft, familiar. Like in the car of Signor Herzensbrecher, who has given it a really cute name and sometimes even talks to it.

The conversations between the fragrant driver and his gluttonous passenger are musically accompanied by the Sanremo Festival, and ironically, 4ajbukoshka and the Italian now have a song, “their” song. But that’s another story.

After some detours and a very extensive tour, it’s time to say goodbye.

Signorina 4ajbukoshka opens the glove compartment, sprays Allure on the collar of the jacket she had only put on out of principle and then taken off again after two minutes, is greeted by bergamot and peach, and is sent off by the Italian with a hug, a frown, and a “See you soon!” as she disappears into the house.
Allure, however, unlike the Italian, will certainly not disappear.
(As already mentioned, the sillage of Allure is not the strongest, hence the comment means that I will be reapplying it a few more times.)