13
Helpful Review
Easter in a bottle
I am afraid of daffodils. Their mere scent (in the form of daffodil perfumes!) has caused me such strong physical discomfort that I even steer clear of the flower itself, even though it is a pretty, decorative harbinger of spring. Normally, these innocent plants do not emit that cloying, narcotic scent that, for example, vintage Chloé Narcisse has, which sometimes ruined my entire day when it was released.
Tuberoses are a different matter. In the 70s Chloé, for example, I find them very likable, in Joyeux Tuberose as well, albeit in a gentler form. But sometimes they can be too much for me.
Then there’s rhubarb. Another adversary, as I do not like it in any form, neither solid, liquid, nor in the form of compote or cake.
These notes are announced in the new version of Adieu Sagesse (although I rarely read pyramids), and since I trust Jean Patou blindly, they will probably be present. That doesn’t exactly make me cheerful.
So I needed a bit of courage to give Adieu Sagesse.2 a fair chance.
And lo and behold - it is good.
Of course, it is technically a blend of 1000 flowers and thirty-two fruits, but just like with 1000 (Mille) or Joy, both from the same house, the right craftsman has been at work, in this case, Thomas Fontaine, who is responsible for the wonderful Korrigan and the equally brilliant new Sortilege.
Sweet and minimally cloying is actually only the top note, and as we know, that quickly fades away; the rest is a beautiful floral blend that leans more towards the green, a sea of freshly cut stems and delicate spring blooms.
Like a new beginning, back to square one, a ray of hope at the end of the tunnel. Hope and resurrection.
Not adieu, but bonjour!
Tuberoses are a different matter. In the 70s Chloé, for example, I find them very likable, in Joyeux Tuberose as well, albeit in a gentler form. But sometimes they can be too much for me.
Then there’s rhubarb. Another adversary, as I do not like it in any form, neither solid, liquid, nor in the form of compote or cake.
These notes are announced in the new version of Adieu Sagesse (although I rarely read pyramids), and since I trust Jean Patou blindly, they will probably be present. That doesn’t exactly make me cheerful.
So I needed a bit of courage to give Adieu Sagesse.2 a fair chance.
And lo and behold - it is good.
Of course, it is technically a blend of 1000 flowers and thirty-two fruits, but just like with 1000 (Mille) or Joy, both from the same house, the right craftsman has been at work, in this case, Thomas Fontaine, who is responsible for the wonderful Korrigan and the equally brilliant new Sortilege.
Sweet and minimally cloying is actually only the top note, and as we know, that quickly fades away; the rest is a beautiful floral blend that leans more towards the green, a sea of freshly cut stems and delicate spring blooms.
Like a new beginning, back to square one, a ray of hope at the end of the tunnel. Hope and resurrection.
Not adieu, but bonjour!
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3 Comments
MonsieurTest 4 years ago
As always, finely described and excellently characterized.
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Gerdi 9 years ago
I thought it was quite nice too, and the usually unpleasant rhubarb only made a brief, fresh appearance here. The entire Héritage series is worth recommending because it combines Patou's classic style with modernity. Not everyone can pull that off!
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Chanelle 9 years ago
And once again, thanks to Kankuro!
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