Angel's Dust Francesca Bianchi 2016

Imagine...
Far up in the infinite expanse of the sky stands your star, shining around you from a nameless distance... You can open yourself to this radiance at the top of your head... From there, it scatters magic silver powder over you and shines around you...
Imagine...
The star powder turns into delicate silver threads that reach up to you and reveal silky iris petals... They are silky, but also fleshy... Have you ever watched iris flowers blossom? They draw water from the moist soil and become juicier and juicier until they are finally ripe to open...
Just imagine...
Yes, you had gotten cold down here, and your skin and cheeks are pale and pale. But a hint of rose petals descends to you from the sky, and your cheeks are allowed to redden again... A tender joy germinates in you and becomes almost mimosa pollen in an inner smile of your soul.
Imagine...
After the petals have slipped off your vanilla skin again, a balsamic, slightly smoky cloud of benzoin now envelops you and gives you protection... You are completely enveloped in a very deep and yet still bright feeling of being carried... Let yourself fall and sink down... onto the ground of sandalwood shavings and soft musk dust...
Imagine...
You too are a silver angel from heaven. One day the time will come, and you too will become angel dust and return to your star.
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For me, this fragrance with the clear signature of the (older) Bianchis is aptly named. It's all about angel dust. But for me, the association is not so much with the mistress who, as Francesca Bianchi puts it, applies face powder and lipstick in "a dusty boudoir of times past" while waiting for her lover to arrive.
Yes, this fragrance is beautifully sensual. But the decadence for me here is less one of rococo with powder puffs and many layers of make-up or of the cunning and ultimately overestimating Glenn Close in "Dangerous Loves", but a light, at the beginning quite transparent-silvery, which later becomes somewhat more earthy and carnal, and heartbreakingly reminiscent of the fragility and silvery, delicately sweet fragility of life. And yes, the "powder-iris-rose part [is] softened by a blend of resins that represent a dirty-experienced sensuality", but even what could be called dirty-experienced remains at once innocent and delicate.
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The beginning is silvery, powdery, translucent, before the fragrance gradually becomes more tangible.
Fascinating iris is clearly added, also powdery-dry at first, then silkier, more floral, then more herbal (buttery, rooty, damp-earthy). A small hint of rose and a beautiful mimosa note with a childishly innocent, almost cheerful idea of flower pollen. At some point, the more floral aspects recede and allow balsamic notes to come through. Benzoin with a balsamic, slightly smoky cloud (whose sweetness I can easily tolerate due to its delicacy), vanilla barely comes to the fore, but reinforces the depth and substance with tolu balsam, but even this depth remains light for me. In the base I have sandalwood and musk, still rather light and fine.