Resins
Woody notes
Leather
Animalic notes
Spices
Gold
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Gold
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35
To the Heart
Comrades, I admit that I learned Russian in Shura's kitchen.
I miss Babushka Shura, her uncompromising nature, her grandmotherly affection for my daughter, her pelmeni.
"Avowal" comes from a Petersburg perfume manufacturer whose products I was not familiar with until now. The kitchen table where I learned Russian is in Moscow. In a simple Khrushchyovka, a workers' apartment in the suburbs.
"Avowal" reminds me of the breads that Shura baked in her gas oven.
Dark flour, coriander in abundance, a hint of cinnamon. In the left corner, there was a small samovar on a shelf, still powered by charcoal. We sat on old chairs, covered with dark leather, slightly greasy and shiny.
Shura explained to me why she only had one son ("I wanted to get back to work quickly; the more children, the greater the dependencies") and why her heart was weak (Stage 2 insufficiency back then).
"When my son fought in Afghanistan for two years, I became ill."
"Avowal" smells of unvarnished truth and real conversations, in which we admit something, confess, stand by ourselves. Perhaps with tears, perhaps shouting.
"Avowal" is not a feel-good fragrance, but also not a "grand mystère par Nimère."
One could wear the scent, for example, on Christmas Eve, as it somewhat reminds me of Russian gingerbread.
Especially at Christmas, one often needs an antidote to the usual family chatter.
With "Avowal," it quickly gets to the heart of the matter.
Yes, it hits, right in the heart.
I miss Babushka Shura, her uncompromising nature, her grandmotherly affection for my daughter, her pelmeni.
"Avowal" comes from a Petersburg perfume manufacturer whose products I was not familiar with until now. The kitchen table where I learned Russian is in Moscow. In a simple Khrushchyovka, a workers' apartment in the suburbs.
"Avowal" reminds me of the breads that Shura baked in her gas oven.
Dark flour, coriander in abundance, a hint of cinnamon. In the left corner, there was a small samovar on a shelf, still powered by charcoal. We sat on old chairs, covered with dark leather, slightly greasy and shiny.
Shura explained to me why she only had one son ("I wanted to get back to work quickly; the more children, the greater the dependencies") and why her heart was weak (Stage 2 insufficiency back then).
"When my son fought in Afghanistan for two years, I became ill."
"Avowal" smells of unvarnished truth and real conversations, in which we admit something, confess, stand by ourselves. Perhaps with tears, perhaps shouting.
"Avowal" is not a feel-good fragrance, but also not a "grand mystère par Nimère."
One could wear the scent, for example, on Christmas Eve, as it somewhat reminds me of Russian gingerbread.
Especially at Christmas, one often needs an antidote to the usual family chatter.
With "Avowal," it quickly gets to the heart of the matter.
Yes, it hits, right in the heart.
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