Top Notes 
Heart Notes 
Base Notes 
02/26/2023
Nushka
24 Reviews
Nushka
5
Her Royal Highness
Demure and classical to the point of almost boring, this fragrance is as flawless as HRH Elizabeth II's manners (who was rumoured to have worn this perfume since she was a young girl).
Everything is carefully measured: a touch of aldehydes, a smidge of peppery carnation, a taste of sweet violets, but at the heart of it - of course, a rose. To top it, a polite, barely-there sillage and medium longevity. Pretty? Yes. Superficially. The appearances are kept, the fainting ladies caught mid-air.
Do not get me wrong: you might love it, if this type of thing is up your alley.
However, imagining it on the elderly monarch creates as much of a dissonance as the colour pink on Dolores Umbridge: something is just not quite right. The violet becomes too sweet, the powder - too stuffy, the rose and good manners - too stiff... It's not just posh, it's the pearl-clutching, judgy, "let-them-eat-cake" oblivious, privileged scent of the ruling class, and I cannot get this image out of my head. HRH Elizabeth II's ghost appears out of thin air and grins at me from under one of her bright hats every time I'm wearing this.
So, I grab on to my darned petticoats and my less-than-perfect manners and clumsily run towards more lively, admittedly less well-behaved but more interesting roses. Buh-bye,White rose, toddle-oo!
Everything is carefully measured: a touch of aldehydes, a smidge of peppery carnation, a taste of sweet violets, but at the heart of it - of course, a rose. To top it, a polite, barely-there sillage and medium longevity. Pretty? Yes. Superficially. The appearances are kept, the fainting ladies caught mid-air.
Do not get me wrong: you might love it, if this type of thing is up your alley.
However, imagining it on the elderly monarch creates as much of a dissonance as the colour pink on Dolores Umbridge: something is just not quite right. The violet becomes too sweet, the powder - too stuffy, the rose and good manners - too stiff... It's not just posh, it's the pearl-clutching, judgy, "let-them-eat-cake" oblivious, privileged scent of the ruling class, and I cannot get this image out of my head. HRH Elizabeth II's ghost appears out of thin air and grins at me from under one of her bright hats every time I'm wearing this.
So, I grab on to my darned petticoats and my less-than-perfect manners and clumsily run towards more lively, admittedly less well-behaved but more interesting roses. Buh-bye,White rose, toddle-oo!
Omniamfayed
