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IamCraving
Helpful Review
18
Stumbled and bitten into the grass
In a small, fine perfumery in Berlin I was pushed into the grass.
The thrust was a pleasure, a bounce in the belly, a listening before the moment of the fall, before nature was very close. In an often monotonous landscape you like to stumble, that helps you to new perspectives. Everything that breaks the old, the transparent, astonishes and astonishes, causes movement, touch and friction, I perceive as a blessing, an impulse and a preliminary step to art.
L'Amandière has done all this, first it has torn me out of my lethargy and thrown me to the ground. Then it outraged me, excited me. Then I had to laugh, and finally I was very touched by what was lying on my arm.
The tripping and happy, free feeling of falling came from the round, stunning scent composition that bombards the opening of L'Amandière. The ball starts with a punch line, which is expected much later with most perfumes. An abundance of green, blooming nature that seems to jump out of a cool clearing behind an almond tree and frighten the lucky fragrant. So much juiciness without blurred outlines, with on the contrary downright uplifting clarity, I am surprised, excited, puzzled, slipped. The indignation came after the fall. There I was, smelling the causer a second time. It shot me in the head again and I couldn't believe what had changed so suddenly. It was as if I inhaled a plate-sized lake of cold-pressed, gold-green olive oil. Nothing else I could perceive in this second and the smoothness of this familiar, intense fragrance, if I had stood upright, would have made me feel gravity a second time. I was also talking about the absurdity of the expensive olive oil that was suddenly there. Then I understood the humour of my counterpart, whose greenish-gourman-like facet, cheering for the successful fright, slowly disappeared into the forest again and made room for a new unexpected visitor. He had surrounded me the whole time, but I hadn't smelled the meadow from all the blades of grass. Freshly crocheted, bleeding deep green, the heavenly smell of the grass poured itself into the moment and gave me (who not?!) a wonderfully aching nostalgia. In the background the almond and lime trees sweetened our mutual recognition, perfect harmony prevailed on the quiet meadow.
Linden blossom
Green almond
Bluebell
Grass
Hyacinth
Jasmine
Rose
