Naninonunom

Not yours, mine.
A torrential rain in midsummer brought the veil, opaque and dense.
I perceive your silhouette vaguely, standing in the doorway.
It is dark
where I am.

This scent is made for smelling at the hairline on the nape of the neck in a passionately sad situation.
When the cheeks are flushed and tears of despair wet the skin.
No single tear, no dreamy romance, no elegance.
The eyes red, while the snot runs equally from the nose and the sobbing cannot be suppressed. Pure emotion, overloaded, real.

Tears smells rich, fleshy, and spicy.
Like the taste of salty tears transformed into lush blooms.
Not transparent, not clear - enriched and cloudy.
This lilac environment is neither light nor sweet in the classical sense, rather deep and substantial - in the most unclassical sense. And it is minimally fresh. Almost a bit like chills with a fever.
Despite the flowers, one immediately thinks of skin.
You smell "unwashed good," as if the natural scent had time to accumulate.

A quiet, intimate scent. Not made to radiate far.
This still water is deep. Come very close and you will know how it feels..

You are not the kind of person who walks into a room and turns heads with your mere aura. You have a certain elegance, no question about it, but you are not of any exalted, natural beauty or even divinity. No, you enter the room and everyone notices you through your full-bodied laughter - melodic, striking, and slightly intrusive.
The peacock feather in your hair, the pearl necklaces, your smoky 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 this person..
“Wow!”
Not a light, breathy “woahhh”.. but: “Wow! What a girl!”

You smoke a long, thin cigarette and drink rosé from an extravagantly cut champagne glass.
In the next moment, your hand, clad in elbow-length fine leather gloves, sweeps over a plate of vanilla cream cake. You seem to be enjoying life to the fullest.
When a dollop of cream lingers on your lips, one is tempted to reach out, place a hand under your chin, and stroke your full, dark red shimmering lips with a thumb, getting very close to you and.. there goes your tongue, already making the cream disappear.
You are seductive, your cheerfulness is infectious, intense for a moment, then you drift away, amusing yourself with the next person, and one wants to follow you, craving more of that sweet, subtly obscene lightness.
If only one could hold you just once, dance with you, love you, one would surely be quickly satisfied, quickly full.. But you always come just close enough that your plush stole tickles the nose - then you slip away from the light touch on your hip, leaving only the sweet memory of your enchanting, almost erotic sensuality.

I didn’t like Shalimar Millésime Iris from the start.
Too sweet, too gourmand, too everything. Somehow over the top.. Maybe it just wasn’t the right season yet..?
Then, two months later (October), it really hit me! This gentle yet full powderiness with the powdered sugar-soft and yet deep vanilla sweetness.. ah. You can clearly recognize the dark, slightly smoky Guerlain vanilla, which has something suggestive about it while still coming across as elegant.
At first almost dry, the fragrance becomes creamier over time, almost buttery and at the same time spicier.

For weeks now, this has been my scent for falling asleep and I just can’t get enough of it..
This was really not planned. I would like to let other fragrances take the lead again. Hmpf. Let’s see how long this lasts..
But one must also say that iris and vanilla are currently my absolute favorite notes.. no wonder then :)

Objectively speaking, in comparison, I still find the Mami (Aunt?) Shalimar Eau de Toilette much better, simply because it’s more interesting, rougher, and more experienced. But what can I do.. I am willfully addicted.

I was in a small boutique when I first smelled this fragrance. It was after a long day at work, and I happened to be in the area; I was actually exhausted, but I couldn't resist the temptation to make a quick detour.
Despite the fact that I really liked the store, I felt unavoidably uncomfortable. I was clearly underdressed compared to the customer in front of me, and the look from the owner of this haute perfumerie unfortunately confirmed that feeling. I would have loved to hold my nose to all those flacons, but my courage only stretched to having three scents sprayed on me (no one would dare to touch the flacons in this store themselves!)... so I had three scents sprayed on feathers, instead of scent strips, which I received somewhat reluctantly from the gentleman.
One of them was 4.1 Le Musc & La Peau. At first, I was surprised because the scent clearly smelled off. I asked if everything was alright with the fragrance, which was answered with a strict and not at all amused yes. I kept smelling the feather, but the biting smell of alcohol just wouldn't go away. A bit disappointed - as I had been really looking forward to this scent - I left the store.

On the way home, I took the feather with the scent out of my bag a few more times..
And then suddenly it happened: the alcohol had vanished, and a wonderful freshness emerged.. suddenly a gentle sea breeze wafted around my nose, very fine and quiet. Warm and a little spicy.

When I later sprayed the sample on my skin for the first time, I was surprised. The scent was different. Closer, more intimate. Instead of nature and spray, I suddenly smelled an incredibly fragrant skin.
I know people whose skin smells strongly like this or something similar..
What a masterpiece that can capture such a scent.

And with that, I immediately encountered the big problem I have with this fragrance. I felt just like Jean-Baptiste Grenouille. As if I had robbed another person of their scent! A person with a wonderful natural smell.. as if I had put on another skin, which smells incredibly good, but simply isn't mine.

It's like an intimate hug with a completely unfamiliar person. The hug could be beautiful, but it just doesn't fit in that moment. It is inappropriate for the situation.

A part of me wants to smell this beautiful fragrance often, and another part simultaneously shouts loudly, "No, this is wrong!" and is even slightly repulsed when I smell it on myself.
Nevertheless, I can only say that I find it incredibly special.

Although I have a divided relationship with this fragrance, I am once again amazed at the psychological power that scents exert, and I am grateful for the experience that 4.1 Le Musc & La Peau has given me.