Aliven

At Louis Vuitton at the perfume stand:
"Excuse me, may I ask what fragrance you are wearing?"
Private:
"That smells good here, who is that?"
and the constant "What are you wearing?"
That's what I can expect when I wear Cinema.
And I wear Cinema, and how I wear it!
For 15 years. Almost every day, almost always.

Only on the warmest and also the coldest days of the year not.
And, if I want to restrain myself, because always, really always I am asked about it.
People love him... on me at least.
If the fragrance is repurchased, you like him on himself not so, more often not at all.
How many times I'm so already come to new bottles, I may not even betray.



Unfortunately, is the formulation of my last 2 90ml bottles of significant difference.
The power is almost lost, has lost much of its magic.
The warmth is missing.
The power is no longer felt.
He now often disappears secretly, while he used to stay sometimes for days, but at least 24 hours.
At the laundry also times weeks - without exaggerating.

On my search for possible reasons, I thereby but only conjecture found, I came across terrible news.
Cinema is discontinued.
Confirmed by extremely ambitious customer service.
And so it is indeed a long-unannounced farewell.
A secret one. One of the cowardly variety.

What I have in the closet is enough for the next 10 years. It hurts anyway.
Am bad at saying goodbye.

But maybe... we see each other sometime again.

New York. Summer. Mid-2000s.
I accompanied Him on a business trip for the first time. Kind of proud. Excited.
Full of emotion.
Overwhelmed.
Incredible heat and a rain that seemed to take everyone by surprise.
Burned into my memory.

I was wearing a short, airy dress and shoes that were way too high.
It was just before 5 and I was to be picked up for dinner.
As the rain started, I took refuge under an umbrella across from a gas station.
I pulled my flip phone out of my purse and called Him.

Ten minutes later, he roared up.
Whereby, rather slowly. In a
Sports car. I think from a friend
Flat, black. A little too loud.
No room! - was my first thought.
A Ferrari or Lamborghini? I don't know.
Cars are not one of the things that interest me. Anyway, it was very uncomfortable.
To get in and to sit in.

He smiled mischievously at me
Inside, it was muggy.
And it smelled a little...musty. Whereas musty is a word with too strong a negative connotation.
Also, there was smoking in this car. Often. More cigar than cigarette I would guess.
My legs were sticking to the leather seat and it was dripping from my hair.
The window was open a crack and gasoline mingled with the smells.

Damp leather. Earth. Gasoline. Wet garden. Drops of sweat on my forehead. My powder.
Wet hair. Him next to me.
Leftover Yves Saint Laurent. Lipstick.

15 years later in a department store.
Have you tried Coromandel yet? No, Chanel has been rather too tangy for me lately.
She sprays my forearm twice.
I have to keep it short.
It hit me like a slap in the face.
Way too strong. But...wow. Way too good.
Way too true. Way too real.
Like a day in New York.
Ouch!

Suddenly, for a moment, he was standing next to me again, and I could barely breathe.
But feel!
I'll take it.

Yesterday, I opened him up.
I don't know if I'll manage to wear it or if it'll just be pulled out for that little moment, that memory, from time to time.
But he smells like a moment of real life.
And so at least he stays!