Top Notes 
Passion fruit
Apricot
Violet leaf
Heart Notes 
Basil
Osmanthus
Ginger
Iris
Jasmine
Magnolia
Peony
Saffron
Base Notes 
Cedarwood
Musk
Palonera
467 Reviews
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Palonera
Top Review
25
mature, casual, cheerful
"Don't be so greedy, child!" Grandma always admonished.
"Think of tomorrow, then you'll want something too!"
Partly contrite and partly ashamed, I put away the third or fourth candy that my childishly sweet tooth wanted to unwrap and pop into my mouth without any thought of tomorrow, caught in the borderland between desire and greed.
Tomorrow it would be the first again, the first candy that always tasted the best.
And when Grandma wasn't looking, there would be a second one, maybe even a third...
Forty years later, Grandma didn't need to admonish anymore.
Forty years later, I held "Tanit" in my hand as a barely filled vial that should last for more than a day’s test.
So I took a spritz daily, just a tiny one, and distributed it here and there, always considering what I had read about weapon permits, merengue, fertility, and "Bunga Bunga."
It seemed appropriate to use less, especially since "Tanit" was meant to accompany me not only in the company of my beloved but also, and particularly, in everyday life and work.
There I want and must be many things, but certainly not a goddess, especially not one of fertility.
For four days now, "Tanit" has accompanied me in sun, wind, and rain, on the sofa, at the desk, and on the train, with my children and among complete strangers, in class and even simply at the table.
And I was always surrounded by a fine aura of spicy-warm passionate fruit, apricot-smooth and so astonishingly real that I reacted like a Pavlov dog every day anew.
My nose and my brain knew better but still thought there was fresh fruit.
Basil is logical and saffron is too - they contribute warmth and that fine spice that reminds me a bit of "Mbucuruyá," the passion fruit scent from Fueguia, which is so unwieldy and hasn't found many friends.
"Tanit" is not as quirky or stubborn, at least not with me - it doesn't repel or hit me in the face, doesn't strain me, doesn't perform acrobatics.
Mature, casual, cheerful - that's how "Tanit" feels to me, that's how I feel in my skin during these "Tanit" days.
It may be due to that one spritz that the tropics stay where they are, that the fruits don't seem very tutti, my hips don't sway more than they usually do, and even my beloved shows no sign of being impressed by "Tanit."
In the wild, no one has come too close to me, and no child's nose wrinkled up.
For a workday, "Tanit" bears fruit and then slumbers on a clean, soft musk bed.
And Grandma?
She would be satisfied - because I have learned her lesson well...
"Think of tomorrow, then you'll want something too!"
Partly contrite and partly ashamed, I put away the third or fourth candy that my childishly sweet tooth wanted to unwrap and pop into my mouth without any thought of tomorrow, caught in the borderland between desire and greed.
Tomorrow it would be the first again, the first candy that always tasted the best.
And when Grandma wasn't looking, there would be a second one, maybe even a third...
Forty years later, Grandma didn't need to admonish anymore.
Forty years later, I held "Tanit" in my hand as a barely filled vial that should last for more than a day’s test.
So I took a spritz daily, just a tiny one, and distributed it here and there, always considering what I had read about weapon permits, merengue, fertility, and "Bunga Bunga."
It seemed appropriate to use less, especially since "Tanit" was meant to accompany me not only in the company of my beloved but also, and particularly, in everyday life and work.
There I want and must be many things, but certainly not a goddess, especially not one of fertility.
For four days now, "Tanit" has accompanied me in sun, wind, and rain, on the sofa, at the desk, and on the train, with my children and among complete strangers, in class and even simply at the table.
And I was always surrounded by a fine aura of spicy-warm passionate fruit, apricot-smooth and so astonishingly real that I reacted like a Pavlov dog every day anew.
My nose and my brain knew better but still thought there was fresh fruit.
Basil is logical and saffron is too - they contribute warmth and that fine spice that reminds me a bit of "Mbucuruyá," the passion fruit scent from Fueguia, which is so unwieldy and hasn't found many friends.
"Tanit" is not as quirky or stubborn, at least not with me - it doesn't repel or hit me in the face, doesn't strain me, doesn't perform acrobatics.
Mature, casual, cheerful - that's how "Tanit" feels to me, that's how I feel in my skin during these "Tanit" days.
It may be due to that one spritz that the tropics stay where they are, that the fruits don't seem very tutti, my hips don't sway more than they usually do, and even my beloved shows no sign of being impressed by "Tanit."
In the wild, no one has come too close to me, and no child's nose wrinkled up.
For a workday, "Tanit" bears fruit and then slumbers on a clean, soft musk bed.
And Grandma?
She would be satisfied - because I have learned her lesson well...
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