This Juliette doesn’t have a gun. She’s anti-gun and actively campaigning for gun reform. She also wears 50 shades of beige and meticulously checks her neighbors’ recycling bins to ensure no one dares mix paper with plastic.
This is not a perfume. It’s the ghost of a perfume — a faint, airy whisper that occasionally haunts my skin. Most of the time, I’m completely anosmic to it, like it's playing an elaborate game of hide-and-seek with my nose. When I do catch a whiff, it smells vaguely like warm, woody paper — kind of like a freshly printed novel that no one will ever read. There’s a touch of musk, a bit of skin-like warmth, and the softest hint of sweetness. It also has a faint fresh "clean linen" note.
Projection? Minimal. Longevity? If you’re lucky. This is a skin scent in the truest sense — it smells like you, but slightly cleaner, as if you just showered with unscented soap and are now wrapped in an existential crisis. Feels like a waste of money when I could just smell like freshly washed skin for free. If you want something in this scent profile but with actual projection and longevity, I’d go for I Don’t Know What by DS & Durga.
To be fair, this could be great for people who get migraines from stronger scents or need something ultra-light for places like schools and hospitals.
