Thanks, Mama! Thank you for being here. I am 24 now, on my way you have accompanied me, always helped me. There are many things I associate with you. There's your warm-heartedness, your gentleness, your sweetness when you comforted me when evil mathematics played a trick on me in the class test, when I only took second instead of first place in judo, or when I lost to Grandpa in chess over and over again at the age of eight. Remember that? I just couldn't beat him.
But there would also be your sense of tact, because you recognize the time when it is called to be present, but you also have the feeling to know when you can let me do it, when you would rather observe everything from a certain distance. And even if you let me do it and let me do it today, you were and are always there.
I wrote that there were so many things I associate with you. One I'd like to highlight. Something very important to me, something I associate with memories.
It's your scent that's been with me since I was five. Were you one of the first people to buy him then?
Maybe.
Has it been changed, for example, so that much of what I absolutely want to get rid of right away no longer applies at all? Maybe.
If the worst has happened, accept all my writings, even if you may not read them, for you have not changed, they will not. I know that, I feel that. Everything I wrote above will still apply to you many years later. Please let it be as many as possible.
Even if this scent that makes you so special has changed as I was told more and more, I draw from what I remember. I draw from my knowledge what this scent might have been like once. This knowledge, this memory will always be there. That's not something I'll forget. But I ignore the new, the changed, because it would be difficult for me to connect that with you. No, I wouldn't want it either. It is the familiar I have been associating with you since earlier days - reminding me of my childhood.
You don't wear it in every situation, not every day, not every hour. Even after all these years, soon there will be twenty of them, it has remained something special for you. Sometimes it even happens that you don't wear it for a few weeks. But that doesn't matter, because as soon as you let it decorate your skin after those weeks, it seems as if you never took it off.
You're not as crazy as I am, you don't order bottlings, you don't have different scents for all four seasons and you don't deal with scents. But you don't have to either, because you know what you have with this small, round sensation, which in the beginning knows how to shine so easily, so floridly, even a little sweetly. It never bothers me or gets on my nerves. It's never exhausting.
Then comes the one without which you would never take your coffee. You know what I'm talking about.
The milk - for you your everyday coffee additive - makes this sweet-sweet nettle flower creamy. At the same time, a somewhat dry, aromatic element, perhaps also with a strawy note, is used. I can hardly really describe grain in its smell, but in the end we both know what it smells like, don't we?
The perfect snugness follows at the end, but already in the beginning it slightly swung along, somehow always announced itself, only to finally extend her arms and embrace you, your surroundings, and above all me. This already beautiful, so creamy, somehow strawy flower now acquires a warm musk sweetness - no - no sweaty musk, no animal. That's not like you at all, Mama.
And then there's the amber, who ensnares this warm sweetness with powderiness. So everything comes together and
that's all it takes, isn't it?
There's only one thing I can say:
Warm-hearted, gentle and sweet you are, never loud, never screaming, happy in the background, but always there.
Thank you. I'll take care of it.
Thank you for being here.
Top Notes 
Deadnettle
Heart Notes 
Grain
Milk
Base Notes 
Musk
Amber
Woods
Jenny15
