Cornubia Penhaligon's 1991

I disliked you beyond words.
Really sorry cause I'm sure you smell lovely on someone else. For me how ever instant nausea followed by a head splitting migraine.

Cornubia is dry and effervescent like ginger ale, but replaces the ginger with heliotrope. This big, neon heliotrope, an oversized bouquet, flanked with talc-soft orange blossom and jasmine. It's showy, verging on strident, but what keeps it in check is a warm amber and lubricious musk.

Somewhere in the heart I get something that reminds me of creamy, peachy plumeria blossoms, and there are definitely phrases in the development that echo L'Heure Bleue and Cacharel LouLou. However, Cornubia is more gregarious than the former and a bit more polished and perhaps more unisex than the latter, but like both, it has a strong personality, and would likely require a strong personality to wear it with panache.

This can conjure up all sorts of old world tropes like boudoirs, ornate vanities, viewing the opera through lorgnettes, penny arcades and croquet. It is sepia toned photographs on purple velvet, gothic arches at sunset, and a potent potion of devotion, sitting on a shiny, cold pew and asking for forgiveness the following morning.

Not long ago, I gathered all my courage and asked this wonderfully pretty lady in front of Ludwig Beck's ebony-colored shelf if she could please put a drop of your sweet nectar on a small strip, which I then simply took with me. No strings attached and without buying anything. You enchanted me immediately with your sweet scent, but I didn't want to rush things with such a noble creature like you; I wanted to take it slow for once. I put your little strip in my pocket and kept sniffing it secretly. Wonderful... but such a noble drop for a dog mom who works in an office for little money?!?!?!
I looked to see if there might be another fragrance that could work. Something cheaper, more ordinary that fits my status. I played with Prada Candy, "la vie est belle," and others... and I admit; V&R's BonBon also made its way into my closet that day. Another sweet but almost sticky scent. Still, so different from you, and I thought for a day that it would work with my BonBon.
The next evening, I then pulled out your strip, which was now lying next to the BonBon bottle in my ebony-colored shelf. Eyes closed and deep breath in, and bam, suddenly I have a picture in my head. A moment I had almost forgotten. A moment I actually loved very much and never wanted to forget.
It’s a warm summer evening. The day was sunny and warm. I’m sitting in the garden in the shade. Barefoot next to the sweet-smelling and so beloved jasmine bush. Next to me on the table is a bouquet of freesias. I bought it for my mom on a whim because I like her and life is just beautiful right now. Next to it stands a glass of tea with vanilla aroma, and at my feet lies a blissfully sleeping dog. I’m nibbling on a wonderful crispy white bread, with soft creamy butter and the finest French flower honey. The moment when I smell and taste all of this is so wonderful, so simple, and yet so perfect. One of those moments when you feel happiness in your heart, and it then burns itself forever into your brain. - That’s exactly how you smell.

That’s why you now live with me. You brighten my cold, dark days. And even though you surely stand a class above me and actually belong to a different class of people. I am proud and happy that you are with me and have not regretted investing in you.

I had a stressful day behind me and the morning was still marked by it. I needed a scent for comfort.

I reached into the "not yet tested" box and came across "Cornubia" by Penhaligon’s. Many thanks to the noble donor (sorry, I no longer remember who blessed me with this little potion).

At the opening, mandarin and heliotrope first caress me, freshness and powdery sweetness, beautiful and flattering. Gradually, the summery floral bouquet of the heart notes reveals itself. It becomes less sweet and powdery, but it remains wonderfully warm and comforting. I have just fished out exactly the right scent. Woodiness appears with a subtle dryness that joins in.

"Cornubia" is for me a floral scent that is rather sweet due to the heliotrope and vanilla, where mandarin, neroli, and orange blossom subtly contribute to a good mood. Amber and musk provide the fragrance with longevity. I find "Cornubia" warming, comforting, stabilizing.

The sillage is quite pronounced in the first two hours; the longevity is enormous for me: sprayed on generously over 12 hours after showering, I still perceive it so distinctly that I won’t reapply, to avoid being a fragrance cloud on the bus.

A candidate for my wish list!

With "Cornubia," I hold a bottle in my hands, experiencing a scent that I had not tested before.
A friend brought me this fragrance from England about six months ago, which is rarely available for purchase here.
Because I always feared "powdery-floral scents," I had postponed testing "Cornubia," but now curiosity won out.
And I was pleasantly surprised (I always complain about prejudices, and now I fell victim to one myself...)
This scent is truly magnificent, even though it does not fit my usual "type."
Because... yes, because it somehow smells "vintage." As if it fell out of time, even though the contents of the bottle must be from a newer production,
Heliotrope-floral powderiness combined with fresh accents of mandarin, the warmth of orange blossoms.
Everything has a balanced light sweetness that in no way corresponds to my imagined cliché.
Although this did indeed apply to other fragrances.
Here, there is nothing "sticky" or "overly sweet," but only wonderfully natural and floral.
Slowly, quite spicy and more robust notes creep in, still powdery, but different from "modern-powdery," where one directly shakes a dusty-sweet powder puff in front of their nose.
No, this powder note comes into play in the "dry down," so to speak, a few seconds after directly smelling above the spray area.
I only know something like this from much older batches of "classic" fragrances.
Fine woods and "dark" vanilla round everything off.
However, this fine and "subsequent" powder note (I believe I also recognize cloves) remains throughout the entire scent development.
It even intensifies in an extremely pleasant way.
For my nose, "Cornubia" has no vintage pretensions; it IS vintage. Still?!? Or again!?! I cannot give myself a clear answer.
I just suspect that "Penhaligon's" has simply retained the formulation from the early 90s.
To the delight of all the noses that do not like newly invented and reformulated (often to "death") fragrances.
Here, everything seems to still be right.