“Tell me, what are you actually fiddling around with?”
“Well, listen here, I’m a lover! Specifically, the ‘French Lover’. I’m kneading a little roll here, pinching a nose there, tickling a nip…”
“You’re quite the character! Sneaking up and starting your loverly activities quietly and discreetly. How long have you been doing this?”
“Do you mean in general? Since 2007. Or specifically with you? Since this morning! And what do you mean by ‘sneaking up’? You sprayed me on yourself, after all! Fully aware of my name!”
“Oh, and then one can just secretly mess around? I think you’re mixing things up: Politeness, manners, good clothing - that should basically go unnoticed at the moment, only to be perceived later as a memory. With fiddling, it’s different. At least I like to notice that immediately. Why are you approaching me like this?”
“Approaching is the key word! Here I can at least really get into it. In America, they don’t like that so much; I’m only allowed to thunder down from above incognito.”
“Well, really getting into it… Hmm… It took me a while to notice your antics. You certainly don’t need to hide your qualities! You offer… well… certainly no demonstrative sexiness, let alone primitive spread-leggedness. Your presence has style: The angular, bitter start, green-herbaceous with bitter iris. You don’t want to make it too easy for someone, do you? Perhaps secretly wanting to be conquered? It’s no coincidence that I’m reminded of Brussels sprouts, which I also had to conquer over my life - as a child, I despised them because they were bitter.”
“Brussels sprouts…?”
“It’s just a metaphor, no panic! Those who sniff carefully will soon sense your sensual core. There’s a hint of something sweaty at play - did you take a pinch of cumin? After two hours, you’re almost spicy-warm on the skin. And yet simultaneously refined and bitter. A restrained yet strong smoke completes your morning activities.”
“Mmmmmmh… I like that better!”
“By noon, you become calmer; the afternoon is relaxed, woody-green, and as time goes on, vetiver becomes increasingly prominent, fresh-strong-clean. You even seem to be grating a bit of licorice towards the end, probably to round out the vetiver a notch, making it darker and more tobacco-like. All of this smells wonderfully loverly!”
“I’m quite touched that you’ve seen through me… Do you really find me attractive?”
“I do! And next time, let me know before you start with the sex, okay?”
Delicious! I'm just now getting around to leaving a comment, but I had already dropped a trophy here days ago. Wonderful comment, very enjoyable to read!
If my notes say "there's something about this," it's a sign of something special that I can't quite put into words. And that's true: there’s something about it!
The name has always put me off a bit. In Franco-German: Isch abe gar ceine Auto... (if anyone remembers the ad from the 90s, although it was a cheeky Italian back then…)
I love these stories about an inspired fragrance, great. That could happen to me too - I always have movies playing in my head as well, trophy for you.
Ooooohh, I need to read this again tomorrow at my leisure, but it’s faaantastically written! Great to read something from you again! FREEEEUU! Trophy for you!
Forget about fiddling around, what about the social distancing rules? I recently got a decant and find it exciting, but not suitable for everyday wear.
I liked the scent too, but it didn't leave a lasting impression. For me, it wasn't like Brussels sprouts, which I also had to slowly learn to appreciate. Did I maybe not give French Lover enough time to discover it?
When it comes to scents, I'm only up for hard and dirty to a certain extent, which this goat-stinking faun massively exceeds. For you, though, a Brussels sprout trophy.
Reminds me of "Honey, I'm going to bed. If you feel like it, you know where everything is!" :-D But the French lover didn't impress me much; there was too much herb and veggie going on. It was quite unsexy.
Bunuel trophy.