11/15/2020

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The Oakmoss Blues
When my great uncle Paul mentioned at every suitable occasion that an egg used to cost a penny, my brother and I would roll our eyes. Our parents were too polite to do so. And later, when anyone in our family would start a sentence with "Before", it was not uncommon to hear them say, "Yes, yes, before. In the old days, an egg used to cost a penny."
But the older I get, the more I am in danger of romanticising the past. The good is remembered, the bad is neglected. For example, my first car, a Polo Fox. Oh, how wonderfully simple it was, no electronics that failed or wanted to send you to the garage at an inopportune time by alarming displays completely unfounded. That the Polo had a huge steering wheel without power steering and no brake booster - oh, forgot. But I digress.
Oakmoss. I don't want to romanticize it. After all, I, too, have a not particularly debilitating allergy. In addition, old oakmoss can smell really bitter, acrid and old crumpled up, in my opinion. But you obviously have to differentiate between them. There is old oakmoss that has remained fresh and old oakmoss that has changed over the years through an ageing process to sourpuss.
More by chance I got hold of a residual Paloma Picasso EDT bottle from 2008. It has no lid and a flake at the base. I didn't hope for much from the scent, since I know the more recent EDP, which I find not bad, but not particularly impressive either.
So, without any particular expectation, I first sprayed the EDT carefully on a spot at the bottom of the wrist where I could have washed it off quickly and without any problems.
Oh, surprise! Already in the first moment the fragrance beams me back to childhood: How lovingly cheerful, but in its combination typical for "young" fragrances of the seventies! These fresh, light perfumes were worn by young women like my mother and the mothers of the other children. Bright and natural, floral with a delicate touch of resin. I smell citrus, fragile flowers and transparent, fresh oakmoss. The blossoms are like a pastel-coloured, cheerfully mixed bouquet of flowers, so colourfully mixed that they combine to form a whole and individual ones can no longer really be identified by their scent.
In the heart note, instead of dwindling citrus fruits, a light, powdery iris note is added, as wonderfully light and soothing as it only seems to be in old fragrances. I assume that real iris root was still used here. In general I find the fragrance very natural, as if nothing synthetic had been used. This was also the moment when I researched the age of my bottle.
Gen base, a very slightly animalistic note is reinforced, which previously resonated only extremely discreetly: Zibet.
Even at the end after perhaps 6 hours, Paloma Picasso EDT from 2008 remains transparent, powdery and light-hearted.
Rarely do I like to inhale a fragrance really deeply even in the base without feeling stuffy. Here I can soak up my "young" past completely free with deep breaths.
Oh, what happy times they were! Back then, when women still smelled of perfume with wonderfully fresh oakmoss and Uncle Paul said: "In the old days an egg cost a penny!"
P.S. I don't blame you if you roll your eyes now.
But the older I get, the more I am in danger of romanticising the past. The good is remembered, the bad is neglected. For example, my first car, a Polo Fox. Oh, how wonderfully simple it was, no electronics that failed or wanted to send you to the garage at an inopportune time by alarming displays completely unfounded. That the Polo had a huge steering wheel without power steering and no brake booster - oh, forgot. But I digress.
Oakmoss. I don't want to romanticize it. After all, I, too, have a not particularly debilitating allergy. In addition, old oakmoss can smell really bitter, acrid and old crumpled up, in my opinion. But you obviously have to differentiate between them. There is old oakmoss that has remained fresh and old oakmoss that has changed over the years through an ageing process to sourpuss.
More by chance I got hold of a residual Paloma Picasso EDT bottle from 2008. It has no lid and a flake at the base. I didn't hope for much from the scent, since I know the more recent EDP, which I find not bad, but not particularly impressive either.
So, without any particular expectation, I first sprayed the EDT carefully on a spot at the bottom of the wrist where I could have washed it off quickly and without any problems.
Oh, surprise! Already in the first moment the fragrance beams me back to childhood: How lovingly cheerful, but in its combination typical for "young" fragrances of the seventies! These fresh, light perfumes were worn by young women like my mother and the mothers of the other children. Bright and natural, floral with a delicate touch of resin. I smell citrus, fragile flowers and transparent, fresh oakmoss. The blossoms are like a pastel-coloured, cheerfully mixed bouquet of flowers, so colourfully mixed that they combine to form a whole and individual ones can no longer really be identified by their scent.
In the heart note, instead of dwindling citrus fruits, a light, powdery iris note is added, as wonderfully light and soothing as it only seems to be in old fragrances. I assume that real iris root was still used here. In general I find the fragrance very natural, as if nothing synthetic had been used. This was also the moment when I researched the age of my bottle.
Gen base, a very slightly animalistic note is reinforced, which previously resonated only extremely discreetly: Zibet.
Even at the end after perhaps 6 hours, Paloma Picasso EDT from 2008 remains transparent, powdery and light-hearted.
Rarely do I like to inhale a fragrance really deeply even in the base without feeling stuffy. Here I can soak up my "young" past completely free with deep breaths.
Oh, what happy times they were! Back then, when women still smelled of perfume with wonderfully fresh oakmoss and Uncle Paul said: "In the old days an egg cost a penny!"
P.S. I don't blame you if you roll your eyes now.
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