06/15/2017

ScentFan
332 Reviews

ScentFan
Very helpful Review
9
Rose in Refinement
I don't think I've ever smelled a rose as sophisticated as this. It's actually three roses: the Centifolia, the Turkish and the Bulgarian. Muted by their blending are the green of the Turkish rose, the rawness of the Centifolia and the lushness of the Bulgarian. What remains is deeply alluring, embodying practically any dream of rose.
I don't know why they named it compass, which is what Rose des Vents means. Maybe I'm being obtuse. Let's see, vents means wind. Rose of the winds = compass. Oh! It's a wind rose, the eight-pointed star used to indicate directions, i.e., N, S, E, W, NE, NW, SE, SW. [Taking dunce cap off now].
In the luxurious drydown, slightly vegetal Centifolia shows off a bit, keeping things smelling natural and interesting. Mustn't overlook the contribution of a wonderful slightly leathery Iris, also muted, and cedar which grounds, pepper that discretely enlivens. This is a rose that says to passers by, "I know you're mesmerized, you've never smelled anything like me before, have you?" Well, OTOH, that suggests a vampiness which isn't really here.
This is just beautiful, charming, elegant, exquisite rose. The kind you'll want to smell, drink, drown in. I'm tempted to hunt for my rose sniff fest samples for comparison, but I have an indelible memory of three greats: Une Rose, Tea Rose, and Serge Lutens' La Fille de Berlin. Rose des Vents holds its own among them and exceeds them in grace.
I don't know why they named it compass, which is what Rose des Vents means. Maybe I'm being obtuse. Let's see, vents means wind. Rose of the winds = compass. Oh! It's a wind rose, the eight-pointed star used to indicate directions, i.e., N, S, E, W, NE, NW, SE, SW. [Taking dunce cap off now].
In the luxurious drydown, slightly vegetal Centifolia shows off a bit, keeping things smelling natural and interesting. Mustn't overlook the contribution of a wonderful slightly leathery Iris, also muted, and cedar which grounds, pepper that discretely enlivens. This is a rose that says to passers by, "I know you're mesmerized, you've never smelled anything like me before, have you?" Well, OTOH, that suggests a vampiness which isn't really here.
This is just beautiful, charming, elegant, exquisite rose. The kind you'll want to smell, drink, drown in. I'm tempted to hunt for my rose sniff fest samples for comparison, but I have an indelible memory of three greats: Une Rose, Tea Rose, and Serge Lutens' La Fille de Berlin. Rose des Vents holds its own among them and exceeds them in grace.
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