Dent de Lait Serge Lutens 2017

The comfort of a freshly washed baby blanket. Poking your tongue in the bloody wound your baby tooth just left behind. The coin your mother discreetly slid under your pillow while you were sound asleep. Her cold realization that her baby is growing, and that sooner than later, you will realize it too. Memories of childhood linger but they're hazy, soft yet distant.

An ode to the inescapable fate of growing up and the melancholy/nostalgia that comes attached with it.