I love this. By the nine divine, instant top ten. I smell like a boozy jazz club where everything is both illegal and permitted. Chestnut opens like a killer slipping through a silk curtain, gently stabbing the amber with teasing intent. Not quite murderous but it definitely doesn't mean well. Take its hand, avoid the knife, it's time to boogie amiga.
The lavender is mostly polite at first, just enough to still flirt, 'hi, yes I have nothing but the best of intentions with your son, blah blah blah home by eleven' but then it twirls with vanilla like a devil in pale moonlight; oh yes, dear reader, the actual devil, and it wants to twerk to the jazz music. Show him your moves.
Seductive? Absolutely. Intimate? Like someone just pressed up behind you and whispered, 'it might could be a banana in my pocket'. It’s warm, dangerous, and stupidly horny; not unlike your freshman year of college but a strange version of it where you had money, taste, and a passable enough fake ID to get into a jazz club.
It smells exactly like how you always imagined pirate rum would taste like based on cartoons you watched in the mid 1990's. If you aren't old enough to get that, I am so sorry. Regardless, don't drink it. Enjoy it but don't drink it.
