Danza Armena Michele Bianchi 2017

Through this fragrance, I discovered the Papier d'Armenie, those delicate little papers that have become a cultural treasure in France, dipped in benzoin and secrets, which one stylishly lets smolder just to immerse everything in this incomparable scent and sink into it. In Armenia, they were also used to ward off diseases and evil spirits. How beautiful, how beautiful, and since then, I’ve been smoking it. Thank you, ChopIsland, thank you, Can, thank you, Michele * * *

Danza Armena is another creation from my current creative favorite, Michele Bianchi. Like Humus, which I recently talked about, Danza Armena is: Cheeky! Exciting. Different. This house gives me butterflies in my stomach.
Thus, Danza is also different from its fascinatingly related counterpart, Bois d'Armenie by Guerlain.
As I write this, I have applied both once again...

Bois is quieter. Bois is more mature. It is more ladylike. (Which should never mean, for me, that it is reserved for the female gender.) And also more serious. And this becomes clearer over time.
The different moods cannot be explained through the pyramids at all; I can only shake my head (Do they even match??). In a way, the two reference fragrances for Papier d'Armenie always smell very similar. And yet they embody such completely different moods.

Danza is Danza. A dance. Une dance. The dance of the delicate wisp of smoke that rises from the finely folded paper accordion, but also a dance of the heart.
Danza is a tad fresher at first (A tiny splash of mandarin?). It is cheekier, louder, in the best sense quirkier and a bit edgier. In that sense, a fragrance that can be incredibly soft can also be edgy... In Danza, I can lie down. (Bois expects more decorum; you don’t lie down, you sit up straight. With your head held high. Which has its own charm.) Soft, hmmmm, skin, and also a bit animalistic, heaven knows where that comes from. And yes, Danza is also sweet. But here, I don’t flee for once; here, I chase the bottle and say: For me * It is a scent to linger in. Let me dwell in you.
In the meantime, I wear it like this, I wear it out, yes yes, but the "I want you" impulse came about like this: I wanted this space in my home. Mon boudoir.

Both fragrances are France. No question.
Bois is the fine lady herself. Elegant, a bit powdery floral in appearance, cloudy, quite refined; very skillfully composed. Then more composed. All fine, all fine. But after a while... Well, you know her.
Danza has the crucial fine pinch of more pizzazz for me here. Esprit! And: Danza is more of a space. Danza is the French hotel room with a view of the rooftops. You’ve climbed the stairs, set down your suitcase, still catching your breath... Arrived. A smile. A kiss. It’s early evening. The made bed, an armchair with slightly worn brocade upholstery, silky cushions with woven lush floral patterns, those curtains... Outside, the wonderful sounds of life on the street below. Laughter, calls, an accordion, children, a small presumably white dog... You know you will go out again, you will find some romantic spot in a side street, then, when it’s dark. To then come back here, to your Danza space.
I never knew why these rooms smell like that. A bit musty-old-fashioned, and yet incredibly erotic. French. What does French smell like?
There is this memory, and: Papier d'Armenie.

And I swear: Danza absolutely smells like the French cultural treasure with Armenian roots. I know it, I have just fallen for the fascinating Papier d'Armenie. It doesn’t smell like the smoke of the embers, which mainly smells like: smoke. But like the paper before, and the air afterward. Benzoin and secrets. An air of France, a memory of summer and the night in the hotel "La Danseur Agille"