It reminded me of that particular scent I notice when arriving at Charles de Gaulle Airport, especially Terminal 1.
On paper, there was a coolness that brought Jicky to mind. Yet once it settled on the skin, tobacco and vanilla began to drift quietly, leaving a calm, generous scent that lasted for hours. The brand’s story suggests tobacco from another era, not necessarily of the finest quality, but on the skin its roughness feels polished away. Smooth, beautiful.
And yet the warmth of beeswax has a slight twist to it. Something faintly animalic, with a quiet sensuality. It is neither simply clean nor simply sensual, and that strange ambiguity is overwhelming.
When I wear this fragrance, place, time and gender seem to recede a little. I feel as though I could become someone simply noble. Exaggerating slightly, I feel almost touched by the divine.
