Ah, how I love it when the right sample arrives at the right time, in the right mood! Today: Jour d´Hermès Absolu, from dear MiauMiau (thank you so much, my love!).
It’s Friday, the last one in April, the radiant sun is shining from the sky, and the air is filled with warm, balsamic splendor, many flowers have bloomed in full glory, while the few bare late bloomers (oaks, ashes, and even the maple in the garden seems to be in no hurry this year) hardly stand out in between.
I spray on Jour d´Hermès because I feel like spring, yes, summer, and I want to see what this fragrance can do for me and my emotional state today. A lot! I quickly discover that with enthusiasm.
It starts off surprisingly strong, lush, fruity-spicy, laying itself on my skin. There’s no holding back here; I see a ripe, velvety apricot, studded with cloves and sprinkled with pink pepper. But as if it were startled by its own vibrant advance, the elegant, fine Hermes note quickly takes over, and the sillage is by no means as powerful as initially suspected.
I catch a whiff of similarity to the Hermes Monsoon Garden, but Jour remains more full-bodied and lovely, the gardenia brings a kind of languid sensuality without dominating. This interplay is truly delicate!
Yet Master Ellena manages once again to add a few more facets to the fragrance in its simplicity: after about 40-60 minutes, the gardenia and soft apricot recede a bit, leaving a finely balanced, slightly dry scent impression on the skin that envelops the wearer unobtrusively and calmly.
Ah, this is simply wonderful! This is: summer in a bottle, this is Italy, this is Dolce far niente at its finest!
This may be due to my associations that inevitably arise when I wear Jour d´Hermès (fact-interested readers can stop reading now; romantically epic inclined readers will enjoy being taken along).
Summer 2003 - Bella Italia calls. Not for the first time, not for the last time. There was that one day when a day trip from Ischia to Capri was planned. With a taxi up the winding roads to Anacapri, from where it was supposed to continue to the highest mountain of Capri, Monte Solaro.
Tourist crowds. Hundreds (thousands?). Ugh. At the foot of Monte Solaro, right at the chairlift station leading to the summit, there is a small café. My companion is very eager to take the ride up the mountain, but alas, I unfortunately have such a fear of heights, no, no, I don’t want to, never in my life, I can’t bring myself to do it. I prefer to wait outside on the café terrace in the shade of the sun umbrella.
It’s early afternoon, and although people are bustling on the piazza and in the streets, hardly any guests are sitting in the café. I order a cappuccino from the elegant, dignified older waiter and look sullenly at the hustle and bustle while my companion disappears into the horror chairlift.
At the next table, two older women sit down, Americans, I presume, and start talking very loudly, which painfully tortures my ears. They don’t want to order anything yet; they’re trying to make it clear to the waiter that they will wait first, which he does not show any sign of displeasure about with his impassive face.
And here they come: the men apparently belonging to these women. They come from the chairlift station, and with loud groans, they let their hefty bodies fall onto the chairs, exclaiming loudly: “Awesome! Fantastic! In my whole life, I’ve never seen such a beautiful place in the world!”
And while they wipe the sweat from their foreheads, I pay for my coffee, stand up, and go to the chairlift. I want to get away from the noise, the hustle and bustle; I want: to Monte Solaro, the most beautiful place in the whole world.
And when I actually sit in the chairlift, this happens: an incredible calm envelops me immediately. The lift glides over gardens, over treetops that I can touch with my feet; it’s completely silent, only the warm wind caresses me softly, along with the sun. I breathe in ripe fruits, lush flowers, delicate freshness carried over from the sparkling sea, the spice of scraggly, dry grass, and I fall into a kind of blissful stupor. The ride lasts about 10 minutes, and I have rarely experienced something as beautiful as this moment when I felt one with nature, with myself, and my decision to reject my fear of heights.
I think of this when I wear Jour d´Hermès, for it smells just like the gardens and slopes of Monte Solaro that I crossed silently, almost flying.
It’s a pity that it doesn’t last particularly long; it fades away far too quickly, just like the ride in the lift unfortunately ended far too soon. After about 4 hours, I can only perceive a hint of fragrance that melts warm, sweet, and sensual on my skin like the rich gelato on my tongue, which I savored at the end of the day trip as I stood at the dock waiting for the ferry back to Ischia.
Apricot blossom
Jasmine sambac
Gardenia
StarMajesty
Evannell
MissBiscuits
Precious
Landlord
Amadea70
Pflanze
Pluto
Bratucha
MlleJeanne
