Les Sables Roses Louis Vuitton 2019

Hello,

it's been a long time since I wrote a review on Parfumo. My taste in fragrances has evolved, and I have learned more about the expectations for reviews. Well then, inspired by a worthwhile blog post from the Parfuma Tribler about the queen of... about jasmine, and taking into account that here on board, an anecdote or some lyricism in scent descriptions is often appreciated, here is my description of Louis Vuitton's "Les Sables Roses," as I perceive it.

Preface:

Why the scent of dawn? Well, this is about Eos, the delicate goddess of the awakening morning, tormented by insatiable desire. And she is desperate. Like every morning, she is just stretching her rosy fingers towards the west, and her gaze wanders over the night chambers of the boys still embraced by Morpheus, but slowly peeling themselves from their dreams, always in search of a particularly appetizing and desirable specimen that might finally quench her unfulfilled longing for erotic redemption after all these aeons.

And like every morning, this moment of tension between gentle desire and troubled agony ends as Helios, finally overcoming the velvety darkness of Nyx's night, drives his sun chariot across the sky, and the world fully awakens. Gone is the eyelash flutter in which Eos may gaze upon the world of mortals in the borderland between day and night, lost another chance for redemption from the merciless curse of the jealous goddess of love. And Eos, the rosy-fingered dawn, so inimitably described by Homer, clad in saffron, remains as always alone, though tormented, but also warmed by lust. Marked by melancholy, yet filled with a burning yearning, just like the moment between night and day, in which the immortal has her place and will have it for all eternity. Until the day when Ares may free his beloved from her undeserved fate with the force of the god of war, or when the vengeful Aphrodite may find forgiveness in her heart. So probably never. What a fate.

About the fragrance:

This very Eos, trapped in her contrasts and contradictions, existing in a beautiful yet tormenting moment between warm and cold, carries for me this truly Olympic scent. The beautiful rose, wrapped in a delicate garment of saffron, existing only in the moment between the cool darkness of the (for me, not precisely definable) oud and the warmth of pepper and saffron, has so far remained unique in the ever-expanding world of fragrances, and worthy of such a song.

The other factors:

Yes, yes, the fragrance performs, no worries. Not quite "beast mode," certainly not a "panty dropper," but a beautiful, lasting, and potent rose scent that I particularly want to recommend to gentlemen. Perhaps then Eos' gaze will someday fall upon you? Please do not fear the rose, nor the oud, which nobody has dug up in Aureas' cow shed, no worries.

Or to put it briefly: Awesome scent, respect, Vuitton!

P.S.: I spoke from memory; anyone who finds mistakes in the details while Googling may pat themselves on the back. Thank you,

Best regards, Raffa, in a hurry