Naninonunom

Not yours, mine.
A downpour in midsummer brought the veil, opaque and thick.
Blurred, I perceive your silhouette standing in the doorway.
It is dark
where I am.

This fragrance is made for smelling it at the hairline on the back of your neck in a passionately sad situation.
When the cheeks glow and tears of despair wet the skin.
No single tear, no dreamy romance, no elegance.
Eyes red, while the snot runs equally from the nose and the sobs cannot be suppressed. Pure emotion, overloaded, real.

"Tears | Régime des Fleurs" smells rich, fleshy and spicy.
Like the taste of salty tears transformed into lush flowers.
Not transparent, not clear - enriched and cloudy.
This lilac environment is neither light nor sweet in the classic sense, but rather deep and rich - in the most unclassical sense. And is minimally fresh. Almost a bit like chills when you have a fever.
Despite the flowers, you immediately think of skin.
You smell "unwashed good", as if the inherent odor has had time to accumulate.

A quiet, intimate fragrance. Not made to radiate far and wide.
This still water is deep. Come close and you will know what it feels like.

You're not the kind of guy who walks into a room and your sheer aura makes all heads turn. You have a certain elegance, no question about it, but you are not of a sublime, natural beauty or even divinity. No, you come into the room and everyone takes notice of you through your full-bodied laugh - melodic, striking and slightly intrusive.
The peacock feather in your hair, the pearl necklaces, your smokey eyes, gold glitter fuzz everywhere, somehow it's all too much!

Who is that, let me through, I want to take a closer look at the person..
"Wow!"
Not a light, breathy "woahhh"... but: "Wow! What a girl!"

You smoke a long, thin cigarette and drink rosé from a magnificently cut champagne glass.
The next moment, your hand, clad in elbow-length, fine leather gloves, swings over a plate of vanilla cream cake. You seem to be enjoying life to the full.
When a dab of cream remains on your lips, it's tempting to reach out, wrap your hand around your chin and stroke your full, dark red shimmering lips with your thumb, get very close to you and... your tongue has already made the cream disappear.
You are seductive, your cheerfulness is infectious, intense for a moment, then you move on, amuse yourself with the next person and people want to follow you, more of this sweet, discreetly obscene lightness.
If only someone would hold you tight, dance with you, make love to you, they would surely be quickly satisfied, quickly sated. But you only ever come just close enough for your plush stole to tickle your nose - then you slip away from the light touch of your hand on your hip and all that remains is the sweet memory of your enchanting, almost erotic sensuality.

I didn't like "Shalimar Millésime Iris | Guerlain" from the start.
Too sweet, too gourmand, too everything. Somehow over the top. Maybe it wasn't the right time of year yet...
Then, two months later (October) it really hit me! This soft yet full-bodied powderiness with the icing sugar-soft yet deep vanilla sweetness... oh. You can easily recognize it, the dark, slightly smoky Guerlain vanilla, which somehow has something insinuating and at the same time comes across as elegant.
Almost dry at the beginning, the fragrance becomes increasingly creamy, almost buttery and spicy at the same time.

This has been my go-to fragrance for weeks now and I just can't get enough of it.
That wasn't really the plan. I would like to give way to other fragrances again. Hmph. Let's see how long it lasts..
But it has to be said that iris and vanilla are my absolute favorite notes right now... no wonder :)

Objectively speaking, in comparison, I still find the mommy (aunt?) "Shalimar (Eau de Toilette) | Guerlain" much better, because it's simply more interesting, rougher and more experienced. But what can I do... I'm addicted without a will.