Poudre de Riz Pierre Guillaume 2012

The Metro spat me out at Porte de Versailles and I followed the crowds to the flea market at Pont de Vanves. Life surged around me. I felt part of it all and yet pleasantly alone.

I stopped in front of one of the tables. Everything for the lady!, the seller advertised his wares and urged me to come closer and take a look. So I casually examined silver Art Nouveau hairbrushes, blind little mirrors, adventurous crystal flacons - both empty and full, small cosmetic pompadours, and so many powder boxes. I picked one up. Cool and silvery, it filled my hand. Belle Époque, Mademoiselle, a special price for her, only 40 euros! Oh no, 30, in cash and it’s yours!

I carefully twisted off the lid. Fine powder dust on the puff. Marzipan faded away. Vanilla? Tropical splendor before my eyes. Seas of blossoms to the horizon. Powdery, sweet, gentle.
Comforting dry whisper. Sweat beads on my forehead and a soft puff that makes everything undone, from its fluffy threads cascades purity, like little snippets of blank pages. The scent as timelessly beautiful as silk stockings on soft skin.

I didn’t negotiate, I bought the box, which also bears my initials. And I always thought I would one day find a perfume that smells like this powder box.

With Poudre de Riz, someone has fulfilled my quiet hope.