l'eau de parfum #3 green, green, green and... green Miller et Bertaux 2005
17
Top Review
Translated
Show original
Enough! Here comes Robin Hood.
This is Robin Hood, the avenger of the disinherited and undervalued. Or so.
The inherently undervalued.
(And also that of the over perfumed. But that's another story that will be addressed as well)
What to do with "l'eau de parfum #3 green, green, green and... green"? There's, uh, quite a bit of green in the name. In the perfume too. But: not that much...
And not that long either.
And that's where I'm at.
Because this fragrance, like its favourite siblings, doesn't score points with me with fireworks of performance. Not even with bold and daring niche perfumery art. But with clean, intelligent notes. Which have a clear direction, and a fresh, natural one at that. Which don't knock you over, but surround you with a pleasant fragrance. Always pleasant A while; not that long. On purpose.
green, green, green and... green (gnagnagna) is a scent to take a breather, against the action. Like a good, well-baked bread with a fine topping and a good cucumber in the evening instead of a huge cooking including a pile of dirty dishes at the end. No Tünnef. Simple. Delicious. Done It feels very much like home to me, to me. No opera today And yet always fine. Let me quote Venus108 from below: "Fascinating tender green. No pressure, no rush. You is me and me is you." Right
Green fresh breath, a green heart dedicated to tranquillity, and a floor of a little vetiver and a little more cedar wood that dissolves so modestly that you hardly notice it. Because you're still with yourself The principle applies more generally, with other nuances of course, as well as for Menta y Menta and for Indian Study (both of which are further favourites of mine) and some more from the house that doesn't need it.
Empty apartments are very hard to come by right now. Why not try lighter fragrances. Clean ones. Considered. That you can rely on in a relaxed way. (I wish my apartment would look like a Miller et Bertaux fragrance!)
Praise be to my Miller et Bertaux's, when I have tasted (and this happens often since I have been here with you) a fragrance that lasts too long for me. Or which is stupid anyway. Or which (also often often) has the same vanilla, amber, musk, wasweissich (you know: the!) base. And does not want to give way...
And depending on the vanilla or amber or wasweissich, then comes the appropriate rescue from the Miller er Bertaux forest jumped! A little spray over it, freshness, simplicity, poof, well-being, it's good (And yeah, they are all great layer team players.)
In this case, the rescuer jumping out of the forest is here... is green. Yeah, not really green, green, green AND... green. Just green. Enough green And not so long green.
And that's why it's a compliment when durability and sillage are around 6 and never climb above 7. At the most.
It's supposed to!!!! Lovely.
The inherently undervalued.
(And also that of the over perfumed. But that's another story that will be addressed as well)
What to do with "l'eau de parfum #3 green, green, green and... green"? There's, uh, quite a bit of green in the name. In the perfume too. But: not that much...
And not that long either.
And that's where I'm at.
Because this fragrance, like its favourite siblings, doesn't score points with me with fireworks of performance. Not even with bold and daring niche perfumery art. But with clean, intelligent notes. Which have a clear direction, and a fresh, natural one at that. Which don't knock you over, but surround you with a pleasant fragrance. Always pleasant A while; not that long. On purpose.
green, green, green and... green (gnagnagna) is a scent to take a breather, against the action. Like a good, well-baked bread with a fine topping and a good cucumber in the evening instead of a huge cooking including a pile of dirty dishes at the end. No Tünnef. Simple. Delicious. Done It feels very much like home to me, to me. No opera today And yet always fine. Let me quote Venus108 from below: "Fascinating tender green. No pressure, no rush. You is me and me is you." Right
Green fresh breath, a green heart dedicated to tranquillity, and a floor of a little vetiver and a little more cedar wood that dissolves so modestly that you hardly notice it. Because you're still with yourself The principle applies more generally, with other nuances of course, as well as for Menta y Menta and for Indian Study (both of which are further favourites of mine) and some more from the house that doesn't need it.
Empty apartments are very hard to come by right now. Why not try lighter fragrances. Clean ones. Considered. That you can rely on in a relaxed way. (I wish my apartment would look like a Miller et Bertaux fragrance!)
Praise be to my Miller et Bertaux's, when I have tasted (and this happens often since I have been here with you) a fragrance that lasts too long for me. Or which is stupid anyway. Or which (also often often) has the same vanilla, amber, musk, wasweissich (you know: the!) base. And does not want to give way...
And depending on the vanilla or amber or wasweissich, then comes the appropriate rescue from the Miller er Bertaux forest jumped! A little spray over it, freshness, simplicity, poof, well-being, it's good (And yeah, they are all great layer team players.)
In this case, the rescuer jumping out of the forest is here... is green. Yeah, not really green, green, green AND... green. Just green. Enough green And not so long green.
And that's why it's a compliment when durability and sillage are around 6 and never climb above 7. At the most.
It's supposed to!!!! Lovely.
10 Comments
Flioline
