Great love. And great sorrow. It grips me every time my gaze falls on the bottle, which is only a quarter full, hidden away in my little cabinet. And then the question: Why the hell would you discontinue such a fragrance?
But let’s start from the beginning: This fragrance and I have a long shared history. I must have been 14 or 15 when the boys in our clique started to indulge in everything the fragrance market of the 1990s had to offer. Some were good, some were bad, but only one fragrance - though not on every wearer - stood out to me so clearly that I wanted to make it my own. Of course, it was
Fahrenheit Eau de Toilette, the edgy, harsh one among all the freshies and sweet scents. If I remember correctly, it was the first bottle that was allowed to move in with me, but I just couldn’t handle it in everyday life: I loved the DNA of the fragrance, but the masculine edge was not what I wanted to smell like as a teenager. And so it happened that one day I lamented to a saleswoman at a large perfume chain: I love
Fahrenheit Eau de Toilette, but it’s just too masculine for me. Is there nothing woody-spicy for women? Or, more accurately for that age, for young girls?
Even back then, I jumped in shock when the lady, with shining eyes, pulled out the probably ugliest bottle I had ever been forced to look at. Help. A neon yellow monstrosity with a warty black cap? Before I could protest, she held the sprayed test strip under my nose - and I was in heaven. That. Is. It. That is my fragrance. Which can be quickly explained: It’s Fahrenheit, just much softer, rounder, gentler, more delicate. As if the edges had been sanded down without taking away its uniqueness.
Never again have I associated a fragrance so closely with myself. From that moment on, it was my only fragrance for about five years, my absolute signature scent, which some people thought was just me, that’s how I smelled, until one day they were astonished to realize that this wonderful Soraya scent actually emanated from a neon yellow ball with a warty cap.
Just before it was discontinued, I luckily managed to get a bottle for myself. I still draw from it today. Yes, I still love this fragrance, but not out of nostalgia, rather because it’s simply fantastic. It worked as a signature scent in my youth (although I must admit I was probably never the “sweet teenage girl” type), and it would still work for me today, 30 years later, just the same. So I wear it very sparingly; I want to be able to use it occasionally even when I’m 75.
There’s nothing to complain about regarding longevity and sillage; both are good, but not in-your-face.
Of course, I haven’t given up hope that this fragrance - in some form or another - will come back someday, because then I’ll immediately sign up for a subscription, I promise. But the new bottle should please be a bit prettier.
Patchouli
Bergamot
Clary sage
Iris
Jasmine
Laurel
Mandarin orange
Musk
Precious woods
Violet
Intrepid
Gold
Schule
