Jicky Guerlain Eau de Parfum

- Chanel No. 5 is for blondes, Shalimar is for real women with curves, Jicky smells like a litter box. The bored guardian of the fragrances was terse, the offer to test the scents before buying was absent, and she simply continued to scrutinize me with a blank stare, without blinking.
I, a 14-year-old kid with a mohawk, was unworthy of Guerlain and Chanel in her eyes.
Whatever. It was Shalimar. I already had Chanel No. 5 back then, I wasn't brave or curious enough at 14 for a litter box scent, and we lost touch.
30 years later, I'm no longer a punk, but I am curious and sometimes brave - the perfect time to close an open chapter and get to know Jicky.
Yes, a lot of civet, which led the dull saleswoman to use the term "litter box." For me, this is the perfect dose of animalic, which, together with coumarin and vanillin, provides an enormous erotic aura far removed from coyness.
The beginning is too harsh, too herbal and citrusy? I find it divine - a brief, succinct Guerlain-esque bergamot whip for the softened noses. If you get off here, you miss something great, because after the first whips, after the rosemary-lavender accord sternly commands your undivided attention to the scent, the olfactory pain transforms into something pleasurable.
The sharp notes are still present, but they become increasingly transparent, now they are the supporting actors, allowing the jasmine to take center stage. And the lady masters her craft. Compared to the whip of the top notes, her essence may seem gentler, more lovely, but her sonorous, slightly indolic voice guides decisively on the long path to catharsis. One just has to let go and engage with her to reach the preshalimaric, purest of all human pleasures.
For this quirky, challenging ride in the first hours, one is rewarded with the most beautiful high and afterglow, as only Guerlain can provide. On the skin, 100 suns shine, everything intertwines, merges together - captivating civet and amber, caressing vanilla and tonka, a hint of leather and a whisper of incense embrace with a seductive warmth that allows one to revel and float in spheres completely detached from the concept of time or fashion.