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Flashback!
It ambushes me from the shadows. Completely unexpectedly. The label reads Rosa Nectar. And I think quite harmlessly of roses and nectar, something sweet. I don’t even really expect rose, as I often don’t perceive rose as such in fragrances. But I find the brand interesting, and since I have the sample from Guufy, I think maybe it will be a bit powdery or with musk, as those seem to be Guufy’s preferences for me. And then I spray, naively, unsuspectingly...
Flashback! 1987. I am in Hamburg in J.'s tea shop. J., who had been in India for as long as I heard, now runs this tea shop here. With his German girlfriend, who has painted a dot on her forehead. The shop is at the front and in a small room at the back they live. The room consists of about 70 percent of a large double mattress, on which the two practically live. At that time, I still wear my first, self-purchased and later even repurchased perfume oil: Wild Love by Nerval, a monothematic musk fragrance that I had fallen for back then. But here in J.'s shop, my Wild Love remains in the background, because as soon as you open the door with the flair of the 50s and a gentle, mechanical music box chimes, you are swept away by a wave of wondrous, intense, warm scents that is unique: First, there is a herb-rosy bouquet of natural flowers that are added to some teas: Japanese cherry blossoms, intensely fragrant rose petals. In the back room, on the mattress covered with a dark red Indian bedspread, there is always fresh tea in a black iron kettle on the warmer. Regular customers, perhaps not only them, are offered a cup of it. Often it is black tea with rose petals. I regularly buy this tea there, just like Oolong with Pekkoblooms, filled with small scoops from huge cans into crackling bags of 50 or even 100 grams. The shop also has a small selection of Indian clothing. It is protected from moths with patchouli. There are also small bottles of essential oils: also patchouli, amber, sandalwood, and musk, but not my Wild Love. J.'s girlfriend uses the patchouli oil from the shop, so the atmosphere is subtly filled with a mixture of moth-protected, gossamer, and wonderfully colorful cotton fabrics.
After about 4-5 hours, J.'s tea shop slips away from me more and more. The rose and cherry blossoms say goodbye. However, a hint of the finest and noblest patchouli and my Wild Love remains for another 3-4 hours.
And then only my Wild Love.
And then a whole lot of Wild Love as if I had poured the entire little bottle over my wrists and neck at once. And that - anyone who knows the Nerval oils from back then knows this - lasts not just 4 hours, but definitely another 8, at least until the next morning. And the clothes - no longer Indian today - still carry traces of it for days.
1987 is past, and nowadays I don’t like musk as much anymore. The modern musk scents have managed to spoil even the old variants for me. Yet the Nerval Wild Love version is still one of the most pleasant for me. But what is too much is too much.
The tea shop flashback could have lasted even longer. But due to the musk-soaked clothing that I definitely cannot wear again the next day, no bottle will adorn my collection.
However, I will gladly use the sample and beam myself back to 1987 from time to time. Here’s to a rose tea.
Thank you, Guufy!
Flashback! 1987. I am in Hamburg in J.'s tea shop. J., who had been in India for as long as I heard, now runs this tea shop here. With his German girlfriend, who has painted a dot on her forehead. The shop is at the front and in a small room at the back they live. The room consists of about 70 percent of a large double mattress, on which the two practically live. At that time, I still wear my first, self-purchased and later even repurchased perfume oil: Wild Love by Nerval, a monothematic musk fragrance that I had fallen for back then. But here in J.'s shop, my Wild Love remains in the background, because as soon as you open the door with the flair of the 50s and a gentle, mechanical music box chimes, you are swept away by a wave of wondrous, intense, warm scents that is unique: First, there is a herb-rosy bouquet of natural flowers that are added to some teas: Japanese cherry blossoms, intensely fragrant rose petals. In the back room, on the mattress covered with a dark red Indian bedspread, there is always fresh tea in a black iron kettle on the warmer. Regular customers, perhaps not only them, are offered a cup of it. Often it is black tea with rose petals. I regularly buy this tea there, just like Oolong with Pekkoblooms, filled with small scoops from huge cans into crackling bags of 50 or even 100 grams. The shop also has a small selection of Indian clothing. It is protected from moths with patchouli. There are also small bottles of essential oils: also patchouli, amber, sandalwood, and musk, but not my Wild Love. J.'s girlfriend uses the patchouli oil from the shop, so the atmosphere is subtly filled with a mixture of moth-protected, gossamer, and wonderfully colorful cotton fabrics.
After about 4-5 hours, J.'s tea shop slips away from me more and more. The rose and cherry blossoms say goodbye. However, a hint of the finest and noblest patchouli and my Wild Love remains for another 3-4 hours.
And then only my Wild Love.
And then a whole lot of Wild Love as if I had poured the entire little bottle over my wrists and neck at once. And that - anyone who knows the Nerval oils from back then knows this - lasts not just 4 hours, but definitely another 8, at least until the next morning. And the clothes - no longer Indian today - still carry traces of it for days.
1987 is past, and nowadays I don’t like musk as much anymore. The modern musk scents have managed to spoil even the old variants for me. Yet the Nerval Wild Love version is still one of the most pleasant for me. But what is too much is too much.
The tea shop flashback could have lasted even longer. But due to the musk-soaked clothing that I definitely cannot wear again the next day, no bottle will adorn my collection.
However, I will gladly use the sample and beam myself back to 1987 from time to time. Here’s to a rose tea.
Thank you, Guufy!
Updated on 07/19/2019
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