Aliana

Magic and witchcraft, the dark knowledge of the primal powers. Summoning them and igniting passion was the witches' skill - those lonely women who are still surrounded by an aura of fascination. The witch and her dark, tough dripping tinctures, mixed to bewitch the senses, to draw the lover into obsession, to force return love. In the dark forests, surrounded by thickets and ancient trees, once hid those women who were said to have had power over the living and the dead with the help of the devil. On secret paths came to them those whose souls twisted in flames. Unrequited love and desire usually drove women to turn to a knowledgeable person in order to push fate in the right direction. How tempting the prospect of throwing someone into desire before whom there is no escape! For this the seekers sacrificed jewellery, gold, valuable possessions and not least their fear of God.
The room is dark, smoky and full of mystical objects. Dry herbs, grasses, flowers, lumps of feather and blood, resins and stones surround the fireplace - heart and soul of the witch house. The supplicant is torn between fear and trust, between the urge to escape and the prospect of success. The longed for is only one spell away - and yet the witch is like from another world. She puts the kettle on the embers and her nimble fingers crumble in all the strange stuff that is needed to rob the man of his senses. Smoke rises and it hisses. The witch mumbles and calls the elements. The poor lovelorn can't avert her eyes from the embers. The name of the lover floats a hundred times over the kettle, dances with the smoke, whispers, invokes the rough voice of the witch, the voice of a woman who rarely speaks. The odours are strange and never smelled, and yet they touch deep inside. The witch swings back and forth, her lips forming the secret words, her eyes blazing like the embers under the kettle. There it bubbles, labdanum and amber melt, myrrh twigs, flowers and splinters of wood sink into it. The shape of the seeker is only a shadow in the smoky space. Her mind is bewitched, confused, detached from fear and reality. She's not the way she is anymore and she's getting more and more the way she wants to be to him. The witch scratches the tough cooked lump out of the kettle.
It is dark brown, velvety soft and it smells as it looks - of forbidden desire, of dark magic and of the devil of its power. The witch wraps it in green leaves.
- When the moon gets full and the night lights up, go to the creek at midnight. There wash three malls and rub a small piece on your breasts, thighs and stomach. Let your hair dry in the moonlight and go back to the village. Stir a small clot into sweet wine. Wake him up and let him drink. Be with him.
The woman nods her red eyes and pulls out a gold coin from under her warm breasts. The witch reaches for it and urges her to leave:
- Take that path under that old oak tree up ahead. Put your scarf deep over your face. And be careful! Nobody should know where you've been!
The woman walks quickly between the bushes and only a few moments later her steps are no longer audible.
The witch rubs her irritated eyes and goes inside to prepare for the next supplicant. Even if the pyre threatens, desire is always stronger than fear

Flora Nymphea came to me unexpectedly, a gift. The "benefactress" commented: "I always give what the recipient would never buy for himself."

In fact, I wouldn't have bought it.

I like flowers. I especially like lilac and orange blossom. But when it comes down to it, the others, the dark ones, the Orientals, the woody ones, the lascivious ones are always first. Whether when buying or when wearing, the flower fragrances somehow always pull the waiting mark.

To put it directly: Flora Nymphea is interesting, unusual and beautiful to look at! But is Flora Nymphea also something for me?

Immediately after spraying I smell citric freshness and lilac. The lilac is shimmering, purple, not quite blooming. And then, you can laugh at me, I smell tomato green. Leaves, stems... with ripe tomatoes hanging on it. And I like it a lot. I'm amazed how nicely this fits together. After approx. 10-12 minutes the scent becomes dense. The shimmering one sinks in the depth, because the citrus is no longer there. I recognize honey. At the moment it doesn't bother me, it's not sticky, it's not cute and it's not much. The orange blossom is also just a vague drawing. Up to this point, the fragrance was very fresh, beautiful and interesting.

But then a spiciness creeps in, which is surely wanted and sense of the thing, but spoils my joy in a flower scent. It smells like five-spice powder, sweet-spicy. That doesn't go with tomato green, lilac or orange blossom. The spice harmonizes, in my opinion, only with the honey and increases its presence many times over. I see before me a mortar in which honey is dripping, golden and viscous, and its scent rises in my nose. Then the spice mixture is sprinkled pure, only a pinch of it. The tappet circles and the honey gets very warm. Then the lush lilac umbels and a handful of orange blossoms come in and are literally crushed. The mass becomes greyish-white. The tappet circles and circles, relentlessly.

At this point, in summer heat, I get a headache and I get a little nauseous. It doesn't happen in colder weather and cold.

I can't quite place this scent. It's not fresh for me (anymore), it's too spicy for that. It's not spicy the way I like, either. It's not light, but heavy, but it's not. Neither warm nor fresh.

After a rather strenuous time, astringency and woodiness are added. The lilac is already very pale, but still it flashes from time to time. The honey becomes really aromatic, too much itself and I find it to be sticky. That'll keep it that way for my nose. The smell fades away without it becoming pleasant for me again.

Somehow I never feel like that perfume. Too bad, really. I can see it's special. Unfortunately, I don't like it. Just like Picasso's pictures - I can look at them for a long time and see that they are actually ingenious. But I don't like them, nor would I hang them in the house.

I've tried to turn it on someone a lot. Unfortunately, so far it has not found an owner who can work with him.

I have a visitor. Visitors from the country where I was born and raised. In which I have not been for 17 years and where I will probably not travel in the future.
My parents came from large families and were each the last of 7, or 6 siblings. Also they got me relatively late and so it comes that my cousins are all around 20 - 25 years older than me. Their children are my age - approximately. And get little by little offspring themselves.
I have such a constellation in the house right now - my cousin, her son, her daughter-in-law and the long-awaited twins, 3.5 years old. What did we wait for them, what did we tremble at every in vitro attempt. After 16 years and 21 attempts they are here! And finally I get to know them.

Two little whirlwinds, crazy, funny, loud, sweet and caustic as two little Satan, only crazy in the head. The mischievousness is in their eyes, they constantly hatch what, and nothing and no one is safe from them. The cats have gone away, sometimes they look from the tree what's going on inside, but they don't want to be there. They also finally got the dog tired, where we used to run 20 km a day with him and he was still bursting with energy. Now he just wants to have his rest. We are all exhausted. Tired and worn out. Only the twins are iron and never sit still.
I am not a person who sucks up to children. On the contrary, I am strict, determined and do not like to talk in a baby voice. But somehow near me the two come to rest. They seek my closeness, cuddle with me, become quiet, fall asleep. I slowly understand their gibberish and no longer need a translator. When the three of us lie cuddled up like this, they tell me so many innocent things and my heart is so warm. They smell like babies, their hair is silky, they still have baby fat and pointed fingers and when they fall asleep with me, I fall asleep too. Always.
When they crawl on me and take me, their mother tries to save me. Yesterday again. She asked them reproachfully why they hug me so smotheringly, why they press their faces flat against me, if they won't let me breathe.
Then one said simply: she smells so good.
The other sucked in on my shoulder.

I don't think I've ever had a compliment about my scent bring tears to my eyes. But yesterday it did. I hugged them both to me and wanted to sob with emotion.
For about 2 weeks I spray Angel Muse. Not only. In the morning something else, in the afternoon Angel Muse. Very sparingly. This fragrance hangs in my hair, on my morning coat, my skin smells through and through after Angel Muse. And if I myself actually find the fragrance very erotic, the two little ones have perceived a very special aspect to it - it is like a caress, gives a homey feeling, is cuddly and spreads harmony. I don't usually like Mugler (particularly). I really respected the Angel on two girlfriends, but it always gave me a headache. This one, however, is different. Also room filling, but not in an aggressive way. Also loud, but you can turn it down. Also expressive, but not egotistical.
The twins, anyway, have succumbed to it. They become still, lying on top of me, seeking to press their faces directly against my skin. They seem to experience something so quiet and intimate, which will shape their scent sensation a lifetime. Slowly their eyes fall closed, the mischievousness in them recedes, their faces relax, their little hands loosen their grip, their little lips open slightly as sleep colors their cheeks rosy.
I am fascinated every time!


Here you can see the twins:
https://www.parfumo.de/Benutzer/Aliana/Bild/127960

Summary

With whom?
The remedy is used in cases of acute depression, spring tiredness, weariness with highly fragrant addictive substances, early phases of depression, unsatisfied romance, midlife crisis, negative attitude towards one's own sexuality or that of one's partner, and an urgent need for olfactory invisibility

Where it works:
The main point of attack of Placea Vendomica is generally the olfactory centre, i.e. the areas in the brain that are related to the sense of smell. Primary olfactory centers are the endpoints of the 1st neuron of the olfactory tract, secondary olfactory centers are the Substantia perforata, the mammillary bodies as well as the Trigonum olfactorium and the Gyrus subcallosus. Tertiary olfactory centre (and olfactory centre i.e.S.) are the centres of the secondary olfactory bark at the end of the olfactory tract in the hippocampal area.

At what age?
The perfume can be used in case of complaints and is not tied to a specific age group. However, the relevant conditions tend to occur from middle age onwards.

Properties:

Placea Vendomica are delicately stringed women or strong such who need a break from the hustle and bustle. There is an urgent desire for olfactory innocence up to abstinence. Placea Vendomica finds it difficult to cope with strong and expressive fragrances and longs for odour neutrality. Placea Vendomica is defined by delicate pastel and rosé tones, floral patterns, dots and, in rare cases, bohemian style. The appearance of the Placea Vendomica is neat to playful, never provocative or aggressive. In old age, Placea Vendomica remains girlish, playful and romantic, sometimes just missing the absurdity.

Effect:

In order to perceive Placea vendomica in the olfactory center, a strong imagination is necessary. And this is exactly where this remedy comes in - before it can be recognized as a fragrance and unfold its effect, it promotes the flexibility of the arms and neck, deep, slow breathing and the entire imagination. In this way it causes the permanent saturation of the brain with oxygen and promotes imaginative, creative thinking in all its phases - incubation, illumination and verification.

+ Improvement: encouragement, soft eroticism, natural yogurt, warmth, tart, wildflower bouquet, rosé wine, light food, purring cat, debussy, fruit cake, hay baths, salad, ASMR, ballet

- Deterioration: cold, heat, garlic, coitus, meat, metallica, chocolate, lacquer and leather, plain text, fire, thunderstorm, adrenaline, street dance

Dosage: In acute cases 3 sprays per hour. In the further course morning, midday and evening each 6 sprays

Costa del Sol was brought to me from Bulgaria. The perfumes of this brand are considered an insider's tip there: actually cheap for Bulgarian conditions, but the quality is supposed to outdo the price by far. At least that's what the really numerous enthusiastic comments in various forums say.
My cousin brought me two perfumes of this brand - Costa del Sol and I Thought of You for Women.
Costa del Sol can be found in the Woody section.
Personally, I find him flowery-fresh musky innocent. But since I am not exactly a connoisseur of floral scents and can only correctly assign woods when they are almost solitary, I would not like to contradict the assignment.

This perfume surprised me in several respects.
1. I smelled it and was sure: Yes! Yes, although I can't really assign anything to it and although I can hardly reconcile it with my actual preferences.
2. This perfume has caused quite a few compliments, even when I did not even notice it anymore.
3. Many times in the morning, when I stood in front of my perfume and looked at them one by one to decide what I felt like, I felt exactly like that fragrance.

His qualities I try to list:
An absolutely feminine fragrance, clear, gentle, flowery warm but not warming. It is present, but clearly unobtrusive, discreetly innocent, but also really blooming. Immediately after spraying I smell rose and jasmine, almost simultaneously. And powdery. Musk is not on the fragrance components list, but I can't escape the impression that it plays along too. Also, every time I smell the cap, the first thing I think of is musk.
After about 10 minutes, a note is added that smells like fine white tea to me. The fragrance becomes really harmonious, the components find each other and complement each other very well.
The fragrance has modesty (in the best sense of the word), as if it were enough in itself and rests quite suverän in itself. Somehow I have the image of myself as if I was smelling the flowers through a veil of mist - muted but full.
I really don't know whether the base is already shining through or simply never appears, because the way I know cedar, frankincense and sandalwood - oriental, sensual, room filling - I don't smell them here. If they are there - then they are woven in such a sensitive way that they have an effect on me subconsciously, but I don't perceive them consciously.

I now realize that I'm already praising another fragrance that is available for less than 20 Euros - but the great expensive ones I have have already received a lot of praise before me ;) Therefore I forgive myself :)

Silage and shelf life? This smell makes it very difficult for me. On the one hand, the manufacturer says it is pure perfume and guarantees a minimum of 12 hours shelf life. On the other hand, I feel as if it is completely gone after about 5 hours. But... the people around me continue to notice it and praise it very much. This makes me feel supported, because normally I am quite right with my perceptions. And the praise also confuses me, because it is not usual to praise my perfume. I just like things that few people usually like. That's why I even thought I was falling for some kind of pleasing mainstream scent, but I was right! My problem is that I don't know the "mainstream" and maybe I run the risk of not recognizing it as such.
For going out or for sensual moments I have never applied this fragrance before. For me it is a fragrance for the bright hours, the bright mind, the bright sensations, very feminine but not seductive.

I'm willing to send samples, because I'm really irritated and would really like to hear a "second" opinion.