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Notes01/20/2020
Profuma
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Profuma
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13
The lady with the slingshot
Deepest night. A cat meows in the distance. From the adjoining forest you can hear the voice of an owl. Somewhere a lid rattles from an overturned garbage can, which immediately means a feast for a few animal children of the night hours. Between the touching cones of light of two street lamps a shadow is scurrying.
As I approach carefully, I can see that it is a human figure. Medium-sized, rather dainty, wrapped in a black cape, his wide hood hides his head and face. The silhouette, however, which can be seen briefly between the waving layers of fabric during movements, undoubtedly suggests a lady. She can hardly be heard as she creeps along the fences and corners of houses. With her smooth movements and the enveloping fabric, she would almost be one with the night if it weren't for the diffuse lights from the houses and from the lamps.
A light shining from a shop window, however, allows a better view of the figure. A light, almost pale skin can be seen, the eyes are bordered with black kohl, the eyelashes are shaped with equally dark mascara. The lips are tinted deep red and have a glosslike shine. A skin-tight black bodysuit with a turtleneck and gloves attached to the sleeves runs almost seamlessly from the ankles down the leg to delicate leather boots with pencil heels. Only the skin of the face is visible, everything else is veiled in the night. But who is this lady and what is she doing at such a late hour in the streets and alleys of this city?
I am about to pursue this question when she escapes from me around the corner of a house under the protection of the dark shadows. I am left helpless. Then I hear bursting clay pots, which remind me of plant pots, shattering glass, as if someone had smashed or shot into a window pane, and a little later a car alarm goes off after a dull thud nearby. Within a very short time, there is nothing more to be noticed of a peaceful night's sleep and some lights go on in the houses. Confusedly articulated voices can be heard, expressing the displeasure about the disturbances. All of a sudden the area is anything but quiet. Hustle and bustle spreads, people lean out of windows or run into the streets, clueless chatter and flashing mobile phone displays. Apparently, the police are being called. Time for me to do the same with the dark figure and disappear.
Early morning. After getting up I turn on the radio and search for the regional station. Maybe there's something on the news about the nighttime disturbance. There is. There's talk of vandalism. Windows smashed, plant pots and jars knocked over, bullet holes in bodywork and motorcycle tanks. Police and residents are at a loss
I too am perplexed by the choice of words for this fragrance That Juliette has something to shoot I may grant her, if she doesn't make any nonsense with it. But the addendum with the extreme revenge makes me doubt Back to the scent. I don't feel him at all as a lady who, out of disdained love, is shooting wildly for revenge. According to the dramatic mood of the angry lady, JhaGVE should offer more power and depth. So à la "(more) Drama Baby, Drama!"
A kind of citric lavender note jumps out of the bottle, closely followed by the rose. Almost at the foot of dense patchouli notes and a hint of jasmine. An almost classic-looking, densely woven union that soon becomes softer and more feminine. At first, a slightly masculine note resonates, which seems to be open to everything. But as the base of the fragrance sets in, in which I perceive amber and tonka in particular, it takes on a more feminine direction, and the longer the fragrance molecules dance in the air and over the fabric, the softer the notes become overall. Unsweet vanilla and musk round off the fragrance even more. Labdanum adds a resinous balsamic note. JhaGVE is a beguiling and sensual floral scent with a wicked touch but still very much class. Refined and mature. And "Extrême" is at most the fragrance pleasure here.
Vengeful beauty? I suppose so. Revenge? Just a little. Weapon? Surely a woman's, and one for the story For me, the name Juliette is already there. But she is a woman who roams the streets at night and only with relatively small infamies gives free rein to her displeasure about lost loves.
And yes, she aims and fires
Juliette but does not carry a gun
Juliette is the lady with the slingshot...
As I approach carefully, I can see that it is a human figure. Medium-sized, rather dainty, wrapped in a black cape, his wide hood hides his head and face. The silhouette, however, which can be seen briefly between the waving layers of fabric during movements, undoubtedly suggests a lady. She can hardly be heard as she creeps along the fences and corners of houses. With her smooth movements and the enveloping fabric, she would almost be one with the night if it weren't for the diffuse lights from the houses and from the lamps.
A light shining from a shop window, however, allows a better view of the figure. A light, almost pale skin can be seen, the eyes are bordered with black kohl, the eyelashes are shaped with equally dark mascara. The lips are tinted deep red and have a glosslike shine. A skin-tight black bodysuit with a turtleneck and gloves attached to the sleeves runs almost seamlessly from the ankles down the leg to delicate leather boots with pencil heels. Only the skin of the face is visible, everything else is veiled in the night. But who is this lady and what is she doing at such a late hour in the streets and alleys of this city?
I am about to pursue this question when she escapes from me around the corner of a house under the protection of the dark shadows. I am left helpless. Then I hear bursting clay pots, which remind me of plant pots, shattering glass, as if someone had smashed or shot into a window pane, and a little later a car alarm goes off after a dull thud nearby. Within a very short time, there is nothing more to be noticed of a peaceful night's sleep and some lights go on in the houses. Confusedly articulated voices can be heard, expressing the displeasure about the disturbances. All of a sudden the area is anything but quiet. Hustle and bustle spreads, people lean out of windows or run into the streets, clueless chatter and flashing mobile phone displays. Apparently, the police are being called. Time for me to do the same with the dark figure and disappear.
Early morning. After getting up I turn on the radio and search for the regional station. Maybe there's something on the news about the nighttime disturbance. There is. There's talk of vandalism. Windows smashed, plant pots and jars knocked over, bullet holes in bodywork and motorcycle tanks. Police and residents are at a loss
I too am perplexed by the choice of words for this fragrance That Juliette has something to shoot I may grant her, if she doesn't make any nonsense with it. But the addendum with the extreme revenge makes me doubt Back to the scent. I don't feel him at all as a lady who, out of disdained love, is shooting wildly for revenge. According to the dramatic mood of the angry lady, JhaGVE should offer more power and depth. So à la "(more) Drama Baby, Drama!"
A kind of citric lavender note jumps out of the bottle, closely followed by the rose. Almost at the foot of dense patchouli notes and a hint of jasmine. An almost classic-looking, densely woven union that soon becomes softer and more feminine. At first, a slightly masculine note resonates, which seems to be open to everything. But as the base of the fragrance sets in, in which I perceive amber and tonka in particular, it takes on a more feminine direction, and the longer the fragrance molecules dance in the air and over the fabric, the softer the notes become overall. Unsweet vanilla and musk round off the fragrance even more. Labdanum adds a resinous balsamic note. JhaGVE is a beguiling and sensual floral scent with a wicked touch but still very much class. Refined and mature. And "Extrême" is at most the fragrance pleasure here.
Vengeful beauty? I suppose so. Revenge? Just a little. Weapon? Surely a woman's, and one for the story For me, the name Juliette is already there. But she is a woman who roams the streets at night and only with relatively small infamies gives free rein to her displeasure about lost loves.
And yes, she aims and fires
Juliette but does not carry a gun
Juliette is the lady with the slingshot...
8 Replies
BrianBuchanan
