Alba

Argh!!! And I was so looking forward to a revival with Narcisse and me - I really liked it and had treated myself to it with my first self-earned money as a waitress in a small wine bar, that was around '93... I was 18.

And then this:
I like apricot. But these are green hard apricots, with which you could definitely break windows. It practically clangs with acidity. I find it really aggressive.
The flowers, I think they are daffodil and rose, are harshly digging into my nasal mucosa and I wonder if Bayer-Leverkusen is involved?

Cool, green, and herbal, the scent develops. There’s something soapy like chervil, which stands like burdock among the flowers. I don’t like chervil.

It takes 4-5 hours until a completely contrasting gnarly sweet musk and I think a tolu balsam base remains. Wherever it was hidden before - suddenly it’s there. Although... Behind the roaring unripe fruits and the synthetic little flowers?! In any case, this base is even and lasting. I went to sleep with it and in the morning it was thankfully gone.

Not good. Not tasty. Exhausting.

So here I sit now, with my lower lip pushed out, totally disappointed in front of the red box and the cute tulip-shaped bottle. Man. That was nothing.
Bottle in the box, box in the cupboard. But unfortunately in the last row, right at the back.

Four whole years later.
I quickly passed on the box along with its contents. Now I’ve made a second attempt: Rossi had it quite cheap and what can I say? Maybe something wasn’t right with the perfume?! Now with the current one, everything is just like it was back then. Especially the warm base, which came off so disgusting with the other bottle, now envelops me just like it did back then: soft and warm with a beautiful musk note. The apricot is ripe and I can recognize the marigold very well. I’m calm again now and currently Narcisse is in the front row of my current fragrances.

Looking back. 1995. 5:30 AM. Quickly slipped into leather pants and an angora sweater. A spray of "Tocade" on the décolleté - off we go, to the telecommunications office 1, Cologne. In the hallways, people smoke and chat, a standing ashtray smolders and puffs away, which nobody really cares about. Passing by the small anteroom. "Good morning!" From the room with the double desk, a dense, enveloping cloud of "Narcisse" wafts out, and the skinny blonde with a chin-length frizzy bob and black stilettos turns around smiling.
7:30 AM and I push through the swinging door of the office, where the first computers are already running and monitors flicker in the wildest DOS color combinations. My desk neighbor is wearing high block-heeled boots again today, paired with a psychedelic patterned polyester dress from H&M. She seems to have partied hard again; her pretty face with high cheekbones framed by wavy ash-blonde hair looks tired, and not even a fresh cloud of "Laura" can disguise that.
The office door swings open again with a short rush of air, and a cheerful wild dark curly head sweeps in. With a button nose and sparkling googly eyes, she chirps "Mornin'!" and struts over on platform pumps with huge satin bows and slim leggings to her place. Behind her, "Dolce Vita" swirls through the air. A perfume made for the spirited half-Italian.
Not for me. Somehow. Although I already liked the scent back then. And weren't we all quite carefree about what constituted a suitable "office scent" 20 years ago? ;)

And now? 2014.
After adding "Poison" to my collection, I also remembered Dolce Vita, and today the scent is no longer solely associated with the image of southern dark curls.

Now it stands before me, the pretty round bottle made of thick clear glass with circular indentations that look like large bubbles. The yellowish liquid harmonizes wonderfully with the golden spray head, which, however, does not spray very diffusely but rather like a tiny water gun. Whatever...

The opening compensates for the puddle that forms on the skin. It's as if my nose is pressed into lily of the valley and roses, veeeery lush!

Slowly, cinnamon and vanilla take over from the flowers, and the scent becomes very spicy. Ripe sweet but unsweetened apricots come to the forefront, embraced by the spices. Just as I remember the scent: juicy, fruity, spicy, warm, feminine.

In the base, the fruits slowly fade away, leaving soft sandalwood and a faint trace of vanilla behind.

The longevity is very good at 7-8 hours, and the sillage is not overwhelming.

When used sparingly, this not-so-quiet scent is suitable for many occasions. I can't assign it to a specific season; the mood just has to be right. Points deducted only for the spray head, which sputters oddly.

Lovely, lovely! I like you, Dolce Vita. And I think my boyfriend does too :)

...and making love is all there is to eat" sings Tina Turner.

I immediately thought of this song and a specialty from Aachen when I picked up the artistic pink bottle today and sprayed the fragrance first on the test strip and then on my wrist.
That was bold, as I am pregnant and this is my first attempt to enter a perfume store again after a few months of total perfume abstinence (ugh! I was always just nauseous).
Do you know them? Those divinely soft, warm, milky vanilla-scented rice cakes from Aachen? A yeast base cake filled with rice pudding and then baked to a golden brown. That’s exactly how Amour smells at first. The scent is simply delicious and comforting, super feminine and soft. Good that I don’t smell much of the flowers. If anything, it’s Frangipani, which harmoniously combines with wood and incense in a spicy way. In the end, a very delicate light veil of musk remains on my skin.

The fragrance can be worn on many occasions, surely won’t disturb in the office but is also a charmer when going out. Very nice - soft, feminine, and also sexy - I’d love to indulge in you again, Kenzo Amour :)

I also find it to be a peculiar scent that I can't endure every day. But when everything is in bloom and nature bursts green and lush after a thunderstorm, with warm humidity in the air, the smells of summer holidays come to mind.
We kids in the neighborhood slipped out of the house into the gardens again after a rain shower. The orange inflatable pools with the squeaky blue bottoms, which Grandpa had carefully patched up time and again, smelled of rubber. The warm, wet street exuded the scent of rain and tar. It smells of damp earth from which we pulled out earthworms and sold them to the neighbors at the front door for 10 pfennigs each. That dull sweet smell of ripe, burst berries that had been knocked to the ground by the heavy raindrops and began to rot. Then there was my grandma's pride, a wonderfully fragrant English tea rose with large yellowish-orange blooms, which I had to squeeze past to climb over the mossy, wobbly picket fence forbiddenly. Shins scratched and a splinter in my thumb... But the very best is the smell of the thuja hedges behind which we played hide and seek.
I find all of this in Eden. And the somewhat overgrown gardens with the fruit trees, vegetable patches, and flower beds here in the neighborhood were clearly paradise for us kids.
Eden is very intense, so I only apply it with a
cotton swab, out of consideration for my fellow humans...

When I first encountered Le Male, I found him unsympathetic. Too sweet. Too sultry. Too intrusive. And unserious.
I just didn't like him. Still, I ran into him on every street corner - and let's be honest, ladies! Where are all the sailors coming from in our area??? Wink wink, nudge nudge...
Thess speaks to my soul:
Quote:

"I'll keep it short.

A man wearing this scent would have very little chance with me because this fragrance practically screams 'wants a woman, any woman'.

No go, sorry."

Same flashy category as the classic "Cool Water" wearer...

Then, some time ago, I dared to go on deck with the sailor and it went like this:

He stood before me for the first time. In the afternoon, during summer. And upon greeting him, when I smelled him, I thought: No! Anything but that! I don't want a sailor who has a bride in every port. He doesn't mean it seriously.
Still, I couldn't help it - he was irresistible as a person, and I gave him a chance. He began to tell his story, his beautifully curved lips just wouldn't stop moving. Sailor's yarn? Hard to say, a bit of everything...

I listened intently:
"Early in the morning, the scent of herbs wafts in the fresh morning dew, gently from the shore, and the sails of the great ship swell with this breeze. It picks up speed, driving us out onto the water.

In the belly of the ship, a cargo from all over the world - spices, especially cinnamon, sweet sultriness of flowers and vanilla."

Awww no! Too much of everything, it's fogging me in. Stuffy, anesthesia!!! I need to get out on deck, everything is spinning.
Tell me about the ocean instead, dear sailor!

"I feel the spray, it smells of the sea, I feel the wet wooden planks under my bare, sun-kissed feet. Do you want to taste the salt on my lips? - the ship sways on high waves. Come, I'll hold you tight - you're safe with me!"

Hmm. I'm just managing to stand on my own - you smell like your wax jacket. Why don't you take it off? I like you better that way! Oh, I wish you would stay and not set sail again!

By the way, he stayed, and I love him very much :)
But without the sailor's cap and wax jacket. Le Male stands in the closet. It looks good there.