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A walk
No, I'm certainly not going to write a factual paper.
No dissecting tables to get on the trail of secrets, rather a small tryst, a meeting of two unexpected.
Already impressed by Bloom and attracted by this gorgeous green bottle,
i tried then, shortly after its appearance, the new fragrance from the house of Gucci.
It was pure disappointment
A delicate nothing, which tempted me in my disbelief to distribute a few neat sprays on skin and clothing. Hoping, far from dominant foreign odors, his soul was already making an appearance, Mémoire remained silent, as if refusing to engage me in conversation.
Consequently, I refrained from acquiring it, but something had triggered this perfume in me, which made me seek its proximity again and again.
Today I think I know that it was the initial chamomile. As a cushion-forming perennial, I had once planted it years ago between old natural stone slabs, and typical of herbs, it released a wonderfully aromatic scent when lightly touched. A bit like the old apothecaries with their dark wooden counters and stone mortars in which many a medicinal substance was ground.
Chance gifted me with a few samples and I decided to give Mémoire unrivalled the time and attention needed to get to know each other.
This new way of meeting made me not really perceive the composition in its details, but gradually come to understand it as an overall construct.
Gradually a deeper meaning emerged, albeit with mystery not revealed.
This perfume is truly not for the impatient, no party sweeper, no nice and neat daily in the office, no freshness kick on hot days.
This fragrance calls for a date, for long walks with the intriguing stranger, for not measuring time by the clock.
Like a soul, it will never be fully grasped.
How wonderful.
No dissecting tables to get on the trail of secrets, rather a small tryst, a meeting of two unexpected.
Already impressed by Bloom and attracted by this gorgeous green bottle,
i tried then, shortly after its appearance, the new fragrance from the house of Gucci.
It was pure disappointment
A delicate nothing, which tempted me in my disbelief to distribute a few neat sprays on skin and clothing. Hoping, far from dominant foreign odors, his soul was already making an appearance, Mémoire remained silent, as if refusing to engage me in conversation.
Consequently, I refrained from acquiring it, but something had triggered this perfume in me, which made me seek its proximity again and again.
Today I think I know that it was the initial chamomile. As a cushion-forming perennial, I had once planted it years ago between old natural stone slabs, and typical of herbs, it released a wonderfully aromatic scent when lightly touched. A bit like the old apothecaries with their dark wooden counters and stone mortars in which many a medicinal substance was ground.
Chance gifted me with a few samples and I decided to give Mémoire unrivalled the time and attention needed to get to know each other.
This new way of meeting made me not really perceive the composition in its details, but gradually come to understand it as an overall construct.
Gradually a deeper meaning emerged, albeit with mystery not revealed.
This perfume is truly not for the impatient, no party sweeper, no nice and neat daily in the office, no freshness kick on hot days.
This fragrance calls for a date, for long walks with the intriguing stranger, for not measuring time by the clock.
Like a soul, it will never be fully grasped.
How wonderful.
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JaneAmber 3 years ago
On a rainy day at the museum
I will always associate this scent with that day in the early 90s.
My boyfriend at the time and I decided to visit the Museum of Art and Cultural History due to the continuous rain on that Sunday.
A few days earlier I had received this...
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