A Divine Veil Draped Over the Shoulders
If I had to capture this scent in an image, it would be a fine veil of silk or velvet in dusty rose, warm, lightly shimmering. A fabric that doesn’t flaunt but flows. I envision an elegant woman: subtle gold jewelry, high heels, a beige silk dress that sways gently with each step. And in the end, this veil drapes over her shoulders (quietly, but effectively). Just like this scent completes her appearance.
It develops similarly on my skin. The passion fruit is noticeable, but pleasantly soft and neither overpowering nor youthfully sweet, but stylishly placed. The vanilla in the base makes this scent warm, cuddly, and gives it a touch of maturity and calmness. When I wear it, I automatically feel more elegant, confident, and simply "more myself".
However, upon the first sniff, it had a certain heaviness for me. Floral, opulent, almost too much. It reminded me of the strong perfumes my grandmother loved, which were exactly of that heavy nature. But after a good half hour, something happens: the scent opens up, becoming softer, finer, calmer. Suddenly, there’s this elegant delicacy that was hardly discernible before.
Oud and incense are only perceptible as a faint hint. A little warm like a barely noticeable veil of smoke… just enough to provide depth without overshadowing the rest. Everything feels well-balanced and remains harmonious.
In the end, there’s an aura that says less "Queen" and much more "Goddess": feminine, warm, with a mysterious side that cannot be fully grasped. A scent that lingers… and makes everything seem a bit more elegant, just like a fine veil that glides over the shoulders at just the right moment.
It develops similarly on my skin. The passion fruit is noticeable, but pleasantly soft and neither overpowering nor youthfully sweet, but stylishly placed. The vanilla in the base makes this scent warm, cuddly, and gives it a touch of maturity and calmness. When I wear it, I automatically feel more elegant, confident, and simply "more myself".
However, upon the first sniff, it had a certain heaviness for me. Floral, opulent, almost too much. It reminded me of the strong perfumes my grandmother loved, which were exactly of that heavy nature. But after a good half hour, something happens: the scent opens up, becoming softer, finer, calmer. Suddenly, there’s this elegant delicacy that was hardly discernible before.
Oud and incense are only perceptible as a faint hint. A little warm like a barely noticeable veil of smoke… just enough to provide depth without overshadowing the rest. Everything feels well-balanced and remains harmonious.
In the end, there’s an aura that says less "Queen" and much more "Goddess": feminine, warm, with a mysterious side that cannot be fully grasped. A scent that lingers… and makes everything seem a bit more elegant, just like a fine veil that glides over the shoulders at just the right moment.
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