Poême Lancôme 1995 Eau de Parfum

Through a crack in the curtain, a figure squeezes itself. Far-reaching under the weight of a voluminous white coat with a protruding train of a strange material. As soon as she stands properly in the light, a courageous grasp into the coat, she pulls the train forward. Lush soft and radiant, heavy, the coat leaves one shoulder uncovered.

Her smoky, pregnant voice is in tune with a song that tells of loss and happy hours of loneliness, sadness and hope.

Please don't go away.

They say the coat is made of swan feathers. I think it's made of flowers. Flower after flower individually to a gigantic splendid coat, of unique beauty composed. Flowers over flowers that melancholically draw their bittersweet aroma behind them.

Attention the coat warms !