Aromatics In White Clinique 2014

I honestly did not expect a patchouli bomb. But it’s somewhat like a chypre Baileys, a slimmed-down original AE softened with cream. Or, if you prefer, powder.

From the vacuum of the first seconds, a radiant brightness grows, but soon an effect makes itself known that I would like to call "olfactory whistling." A kind of disturbing frequency, a shaken measure of subtly tormenting elements. Needle-like, becoming stronger over time, they unfold their unpleasant effect, which stretches from the temples to the stomach area. As if I had taken too much of something that doesn’t agree with me. The quiet torment takes about an hour to settle in.
Finally, the fragrance begins to open up. I would like to mention that I was very pleased about the release of this flanker of the original AE, which I am liking more and more, providing me with a special sense of well-being.
I wanted to throw confetti for the launch of the White version.

But wait, what are they making me smell now, something contrived, something affected? Dark green hints, hollow and without grounding, the rose is cold, it has never lived, the violet is bored and quite distorted. The scent seems to float like a blob of silicone on my skin, diffusion apparently impossible. Meant in a figurative sense, not in a physical one. If only it could shed its plastic skin, explode it, but it clearly lacks the spirit for that. The narrow light woods that are scattered towards the end are the least capable of achieving that.
I couldn’t believe it, so I tried, as I often do when retesting, to ignore the name, origin, and suggested parallels as much as possible to gain further insights from a changed perspective. I want to be completely honest; I don’t know what I could mention positively when the overall impression aligns closely with that of a lotion-soaked wet wipe.
Quickly, I toss the flags I had just wanted to wave into the next trash can. Hopefully, no one saw that I had any.

For the sake of fairness, I want to mention that I suspect the effect of displacement amplification might have kicked in. By that, I mean that one tries to avoid impressions they do not like. In my case, those artificial, sometimes piercing notes. However, this approach might lead one to perceive the unwanted even more strongly in case of a situation. It’s the same effect as with noise-sensitive people who, by retreating into solitude, become even more sensitive to acoustic disturbances.
Since I have been enjoying old chypres obsessively lately, I cannot rule out that my perception might be shaped by that.

My glance back at the perfume shelf sees a hurricane of wind force 10 in the Swiss mountains, where one would prefer to cling on tightly to avoid being blown away. Next to it, office air blown by a desk fan. Both are now on the same level, as they wear the same coat. A pure ester construct versus an explosion of high-quality natural ingredients.
Preliminary endpoints of a development that evokes no positive emotions in me, cast into a still life.

"Yes, yes, everything was better back then!" I can already hear it, but at my age, I simply have no desire to join in every little song that "King Progress" strums on his lute. Especially not when you can see from afar that he is once again wearing his crown askew. Some may consider this to be backward-looking; I cannot help it.

If I had to name a place that I associate with White AE, it would clearly be the outer platform of the Enterprise. In the intergalactic field experiment, they would have planted some beds to grow aromatic plants, unfortunately without sunlight. In short intervals, they would need to be watered with a saturated polyethylene solution for stabilization, as there are no ideal conditions at minus 270 degrees Celsius and warp 4, and the delicate little plants could quickly lose shape. Mr. Spock does say his obligatory "fascinating" into orbit, but the twitch of his left pointed ear suggests he might have meant it ironically...

So, I’m not beaming myself down.