Life Threads Gold Sheer La Prairie 2011

I ordered this perfume blind.
I had read what Centifolia had written about it, and something told me - "DO IT"! I have never been able to resist that inner voice for long. I almost call it my intuition in a apologetic and justifying way, and most of the time I am right on the money. This time was no different.

How glad I am to have given in this time and now to hold this perfume in my hands!

First, the bottle! Oh, it is beautiful!
Were bottles important to me until now? I have no answer. But this one is a different story. So noble, playful. The delicate gold wire around the fragile glass bottle. The Plexiglas walls at the front and back, both on the bottle and on the cap, seem to support and protect the precious, golden core. Modern-elegant, inventive, high-quality.

My unmanicured fingers pulling the cap off feel almost like a disrespect to the little, almost bodiless luxury.

And then the first spray!
What is happening to me? Can one become so enamored with a scent that one gazes at it completely uncritically? Apparently so. I smell it, and following my breath, it slips into my soul as if I were a given for it. It’s that simple.

It must be the plum.
How could I forget how much I love plum?
The plum here is not a sluggish winter plum in cinnamon sauce, warming its wrinkled bottom by the wood fire.

Here it is summery-bright, delicate, plump, splashing in the sunny juice of a tangerine. Drops of juice sparkle on its lashes, breaking and shimmering in the light. It sinks into the midday silence, in the hum of a bee, in the enjoyment of the moment.
Then it elegantly rises from the juice bath, carefully pats itself dry, and strolls carefree to the flower bed. Without regret, it snaps off the stems of the most beautiful, lush flowers, picks a huge bouquet, and carries it away lightly. In front of its mirror, it places the flowers and blossoms in its hair - one after the other, closely together, like a wreath around its features, like a crown of ephemeral beauty. With flowers in its hair, the sweet plum admires itself in the mirror. Well done! The flowers complement its own fruity scent and give it even more presence. They do not overshadow it; they only refine it. The plum shakes its curly hair and innocently strikes a few flirtatious poses in front of the mirror. Yes, how beautiful plum can be when it knows how to present itself! Quickly, it pins a casual bun with a few pine needles, rubs some vanilla on its neck, and sticks a patchouli stem behind its ear - and voilà! Beauty in perfection!
It spins in a pirouette, almost making the flowers fly out of its hair! Everything around it is drenched in a scent that is delicate, captivating, disarming, and seductive. It laughs at its reflection, and its laughter sparkles golden and fragrant away.