With a firm handshake, the Mayor of Gotham City bids farewell from Bruce Wayne's study. The horror of the past few days is still written on the face of the older gentleman, who meticulously trims his thinning hair to the side.
For this important meeting, the head of the city had chosen "Halfeti | Penhaligon's." As he walked down the long hallway, he glanced back at Mr. Wayne one last time: "Thank you for your time," he said, lowering his worried gaze to the floor as he was escorted by a servant to the grand entrance of the estate.
The conversation occupied Bruce Wayne well into the evening hours as his gaze drifted through the floor-to-ceiling windows in the study, looking out at the rain-soaked forests and into the distance. He unbuttoned the first button of his tailored white shirt and, as if in a trance, reached for a bottle from the side agarwood shelf.
It is rare for a perfume to so completely embody and reflect the essence of a character and presence as this fantastic scent, which unfolded in the room within seconds. A light, green aroma rose, its complexity could be described with an endless array of words: sophisticated, masculine, serious, to name just a few. The fragrance embodied its wearer and vice versa. It fit the gentleman like a glove. Among that grand collection of the most luxurious drops of perfumery, this had been his favorite.
Bruce Wayne jolted awake as the motion sensor caused the room to immediately bathe in a soft evening light. The agarwood shelf remained untouched. Mr. Wayne's eyes darted hastily through the rows of bottles: No, once again
Fougère d'Argent was not among them.
With a deep breath, Bruce Wayne acknowledged this with relief. He had often held the bottle in his hand and removed the cap, which was only slightly distinguishable in weight from air. The sprayer made bursts that reminded him of the grand fountain at the entrance to his estate before it underwent an elaborate restoration. Staring in disbelief at the price of the perfume, Mr. Wayne simply could not understand how this disaster could occur.
In terms of pricing, Tom Ford's fragrances are subject to nearly any whim. It is a tiresome topic among the residents of the city, as many believe that one should not engage in price discussions for luxury goods; others wondered why, at such prices, there were no minimal investments possible to align the product tactilely with its intended market position. A Datejust does not wear well on a rubber band just as a gumball machine does not spit out a Tiffany ring.
Tom Ford seems to disregard these connections.
But that bottle on a fine agarwood shelf? No, I can't imagine that, Bruce Wayne thought to himself.
The billionaire closed his eyes: "No, that is too expensive for me."
May he find his rest after this heavy week without further nightmares.
Akigalawood®
Coumarin
Lavender
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Ginger
Mandarin orange
TheDunkPapa
PetarMolnar
Syzygy73
Rurality
AyyLmaoAlex
ScentToolbox
matanekoi
Turgenev
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Jrojo
