Freesia
Popcorn
Patchouli
Calabrian bergamot
Palonera
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Palonera
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20
...that is no longer so small...
I would have bet my hand on it.
Or on a hot stove - at least that.
I would have sworn, hand on heart, and I would have been completely aware of no perjury.
"Coco Mademoiselle!" I would have said, bomb-proof, rock-solid, had we met blindly.
Not about the perfume would I have thought, certainly not, nor about EdP and EdT, but surely about an Eau Légère, a summer-light lightweight.
And I wouldn't have said it in the first moments - not in those that smell pear-like-berry on my skin, so shimmering-sweet and buoyant like a not-too-hot summer day.
Breathing in youthful freshness and lovely lightness, life euphoria and cheerful optimism, a little playful and - yes: sweet enough to eat.
A tiny bit I think of "Petite Chérie," the little Goutal, probably because of the pear that can be found nowhere, only in my head and my nose, if at all.
But quickly she grows up, Dior's little one, much faster than one would wish for a child.
After barely three-quarters of an hour, my head turns of its own accord, my gaze searching for Zeljka, my sister-in-law, the beautiful Croatian.
I know she cannot be here, yet the scent in my nose is inextricably linked to her image.
She wears "Coco Mademoiselle," exclusively, always and everywhere, in summer as in winter - and always just a tiny bit too much.
Even before she enters the room, you know she is there.
I like the scent of sun-warmed flowers that envelops her like a light scarf, of fully ripe oranges and candied apricots, of expensive body powder and lascivious femininity.
I like it - on Zeljka, the velvety-skinned dark one.
I like it - on women who are like her.
I like it - from a distance.
When it brushes past me, like a velvety warm breath, like a hand on my arm, just for a moment.
But on me, for me, lasting the whole long day - I had preferred not to until now.
Until now.
But now Dior's little one, that is no longer so small, has already nestled against my skin for the third day in a row - gentle, light, transparent, softly fruity, warm-floral, calmly sensual and not loud at all.
She feels good, obviously.
I feel good, obviously.
And I know: When it gets cooler, we will try for days four, five, six...
Or on a hot stove - at least that.
I would have sworn, hand on heart, and I would have been completely aware of no perjury.
"Coco Mademoiselle!" I would have said, bomb-proof, rock-solid, had we met blindly.
Not about the perfume would I have thought, certainly not, nor about EdP and EdT, but surely about an Eau Légère, a summer-light lightweight.
And I wouldn't have said it in the first moments - not in those that smell pear-like-berry on my skin, so shimmering-sweet and buoyant like a not-too-hot summer day.
Breathing in youthful freshness and lovely lightness, life euphoria and cheerful optimism, a little playful and - yes: sweet enough to eat.
A tiny bit I think of "Petite Chérie," the little Goutal, probably because of the pear that can be found nowhere, only in my head and my nose, if at all.
But quickly she grows up, Dior's little one, much faster than one would wish for a child.
After barely three-quarters of an hour, my head turns of its own accord, my gaze searching for Zeljka, my sister-in-law, the beautiful Croatian.
I know she cannot be here, yet the scent in my nose is inextricably linked to her image.
She wears "Coco Mademoiselle," exclusively, always and everywhere, in summer as in winter - and always just a tiny bit too much.
Even before she enters the room, you know she is there.
I like the scent of sun-warmed flowers that envelops her like a light scarf, of fully ripe oranges and candied apricots, of expensive body powder and lascivious femininity.
I like it - on Zeljka, the velvety-skinned dark one.
I like it - on women who are like her.
I like it - from a distance.
When it brushes past me, like a velvety warm breath, like a hand on my arm, just for a moment.
But on me, for me, lasting the whole long day - I had preferred not to until now.
Until now.
But now Dior's little one, that is no longer so small, has already nestled against my skin for the third day in a row - gentle, light, transparent, softly fruity, warm-floral, calmly sensual and not loud at all.
She feels good, obviously.
I feel good, obviously.
And I know: When it gets cooler, we will try for days four, five, six...
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