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08/08/2018
Palonera
42 Reviews
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Palonera
Top Review
34
September sun
Good, good, good.
Let's just forget that I don't drink.
No whiskey, no bourbon, no courvoisier.
That I'm not a man anyway.
There is, so it seems, nothing that predestined me to test this fragrance, to discuss.
Nothing. Nothing.
Except maybe my nose.
The nose that nothing is safe from, that smells of something, sometimes even smells of something.
Which is curious and sometimes more cosmopolitan than the rest that clings to it.
And of course: because it's there, the bottle.
Amber glittering full and beautiful.
A hand-- a feather in the eye.
But the nose has the last word:
Alcohol.
Sure, alcohol - and not too scarce.
For two, three, four seconds.
That could be Courvoisier - I wouldn't swear to it.
Neither did the man at my side - he loves whiskey and many other fine wines, but he didn't have a Courvoisier in his glass yet.
Very soon the alcohol gives way to a soft, warm, flattering golden brown - velvet and wood, a hint of wild leather, autumn leaves, an expensive body cream.
Very gentle, very quiet.
Nothing is loud about "L'Edition Imperiale", nothing is confused and massive, even rumbling.
September sun on light coniferous forest, the ground soft, covered with tree part.
Firm steps, level-headed, well-chosen.
Wide shoulders, a warm hand - a smile in the eyes, a radiant wreath, silver curls in the once dark hair.
Old barrels, oak wood in the sun, back in the yard, where the shadow never falls.
A hint of smoke from the chapel at the edge of the forest.
And on the table in front of the fireplace amber glitter in crystal heavy glass.
A fine, faceted fragrance that doesn't need a big stage and no loud sounds to be noticed, commented on.
Of the people, of course, only those who may come closer, cross the arm length limit and perceive it, the scent that remains close to me in the sun and in the rain, in heat as well as in cold, at my side like a good friend.
Unexcited, unpretentious, but not arbitrary - and certainly not a fragrance that will be revealed in the first test.
Let's just forget that I don't drink.
No whiskey, no bourbon, no courvoisier.
That I'm not a man anyway.
There is, so it seems, nothing that predestined me to test this fragrance, to discuss.
Nothing. Nothing.
Except maybe my nose.
The nose that nothing is safe from, that smells of something, sometimes even smells of something.
Which is curious and sometimes more cosmopolitan than the rest that clings to it.
And of course: because it's there, the bottle.
Amber glittering full and beautiful.
A hand-- a feather in the eye.
But the nose has the last word:
Alcohol.
Sure, alcohol - and not too scarce.
For two, three, four seconds.
That could be Courvoisier - I wouldn't swear to it.
Neither did the man at my side - he loves whiskey and many other fine wines, but he didn't have a Courvoisier in his glass yet.
Very soon the alcohol gives way to a soft, warm, flattering golden brown - velvet and wood, a hint of wild leather, autumn leaves, an expensive body cream.
Very gentle, very quiet.
Nothing is loud about "L'Edition Imperiale", nothing is confused and massive, even rumbling.
September sun on light coniferous forest, the ground soft, covered with tree part.
Firm steps, level-headed, well-chosen.
Wide shoulders, a warm hand - a smile in the eyes, a radiant wreath, silver curls in the once dark hair.
Old barrels, oak wood in the sun, back in the yard, where the shadow never falls.
A hint of smoke from the chapel at the edge of the forest.
And on the table in front of the fireplace amber glitter in crystal heavy glass.
A fine, faceted fragrance that doesn't need a big stage and no loud sounds to be noticed, commented on.
Of the people, of course, only those who may come closer, cross the arm length limit and perceive it, the scent that remains close to me in the sun and in the rain, in heat as well as in cold, at my side like a good friend.
Unexcited, unpretentious, but not arbitrary - and certainly not a fragrance that will be revealed in the first test.
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