Diego Dalla Palma Diego Dalla Palma 1989

First of all, thank you Can for letting me get to know this great fragrance.
Well, Marieposa and Can have already put it poetically and erotically into beautiful words. I wouldn't want to top that either.
Nevertheless, this Diego awakens the full woman in you. How should you imagine full women? Like a shot-putter from the Olympic team? No. Like one of those blow-up dolls from an island dating show? With atomic silicone breasts, inflated lips and the IQ of a squeaky duck. Who no longer knows which parts of her were of natural origin. Nope! Or those felt wearers with eyebrows like Schulze's giant moustache, who think a bra is a slingshot and a mascara is a Japanese car brand? Definitely not.
The term "woman" should not have a negative connotation here. "Guys" are also allowed to wear it.
Full women have both feet on the ground, wear a work suit with the same grandeur as an evening dress, have their own opinion, express it, but also know when to hold their tongue.
Diego can't be worn half-heartedly and then slurp off a comment like that. You're more likely to melt away here. And believe me, I'm not so easily impressed anymore.
Actually, I can't even begin to describe this work of art, it's so complex and multi-faceted.
Ripe citrus fruits roll by, but only as sorbet. Foam, with a slight sweetness. A sea or more of flowers and all the ones I like! Iris powder, violet sweetness and no, I can't categorize them all. Beguiling, intoxicating. Somehow otherworldly!
Cream, musk, coked shavings of sandalwood. And there is always a hint of subtle sweetness. Powder!
Now what? A negligee is needed. Lace from Plauen! Not black, not white! Purple, emerald green or midnight blue. The slipper hero in the flannel pyjamas will make eyes. Your all14 days Tralalus is getting lively again!
Discontinued! Unfortunately, the beautiful ones sometimes die early. But Diego reminds me of other beauties who are even a bit similar. The "Anonimo Veneziano"
from Nobile 1942 or "Love, the Kay to Live". A hint of Poison, without the oomph. A somewhat surrealistic, animalistic dissolution of the 80s fragrances by Dali.
The bottle. I wonder what kind of derangement the flacon designer has fallen victim to? Such a beautiful fragrance in a bottle that looks like a toilet duck on the run. Perhaps he also wanted nobody to buy Diego so that he could have more for himself. We will never know.