Olympia

Recently, one morning I stood somewhat indecisively in my bedroom and wondered what I should spray on today. Since there was nothing special planned for the day, I quickly decided to reach for “Paris” by Yves Saint Laurent, a fragrance that I wear very rarely because I find it beautiful but also a bit old-fashioned, and my colleague once mentioned that it gives her headaches. However, I knew that my colleague wouldn’t be there that day, so I thought I could give “Paris” another chance…
Good decision: It’s so wonderful! I had completely forgotten how lovely it is. Maybe it’s also the season - it’s too floral in winter and too opulent in summer, and I probably unknowingly picked the absolutely perfect day for “Paris.”
It’s always a bit of a thing. The fragrance and the outside temperature need to match; otherwise, it just doesn’t work. Some fragrances only work in winter, others only in summer heat, and some need proper dreary weather.
But how does “Paris” smell now?
It smells of flowers, mainly roses, but there are also other flowers like jasmine or iris. It smells as if you were sticking your nose into a gigantic bouquet of flowers. Not a measly little bunch, but a bouquet that costs at least €50, one that movie stars receive after a premiere, lavish and abundant. The flowers themselves are fully bloomed and radiate their enchanting scent in all directions. No delicate, still-dewy buds, but wide-open blossoms stretching towards the sun. You can smell their nectar, which attracts the bees, and you can also sense that they will soon wither. The flowers are basically at the peak of their beauty and simultaneously just before decay. At least, that’s how I perceive it. On my skin, the fragrance develops a velvety honey sweetness over time, which is easily noticeable and simply beautiful.
Several people I interacted with that day came up to me and said something like: “It smells good in here. What is that?” That almost never happens. And at the gym, the men suddenly became unexpectedly charming: “Should I help you with the weights?” Or was it more about spring? Moreover, “Paris” was unusually long-lasting. I could still faintly perceive the scent even after showering. That’s how it should be. I will wear it more often now. I’m glad I rediscovered it…

Do you know the famous quote by Albert Camus: “In the midst of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer”?

I think of these words almost every time I wear White Magnolia by Loewe.
Only here, it’s not an invincible summer that I feel within me, but an invincible spring full of floral scents, blue skies, and gentle breezes.
Magnolia and cotton candy are distinctly noticeable, yet very fine and airy, not a bit gooey or sticky. A feather-light, powdery sweetness wraps around me like a scarf made of air, holding me tightly in its embrace.

I wore White Magnolia on one of the darkest days of my life and felt, in a magical way, calmed and comforted by it. As if the fragrance wanted to whisper to me, “Don’t be afraid. I am with you. Life will be beautiful again.” That was the invincible spring that granted me an inner strength I never thought I possessed.

After that, I couldn’t help but buy a bottle. I owed it to the fragrance in a way.

I have not regretted it to this day.

Manakara is my special favorite - named after the city on the southeast coast of Madagascar, which is known for its lychee plantations. For those who want to take a closer look at the harvest of these fragrant fruits, the following documentary on YouTube provides a good overview:

https://youtu.be/SpuoWhnyk14

To get straight to the point, the scent is sweet - very sweet. A fine syrupy sweetness that is present from the very beginning and remains until the end. It is as sweet as fully ripe, juice-dripping lychees with their delicate rose-like scent. At the same time, one perceives the fragrance of fully bloomed, sun-kissed roses, which may seem paradoxical at first glance, as European garden roses do not thrive in tropical heat. However, the rose scent here does not stand alone, but primarily serves to emphasize the aroma of the lychees. To my nose, it seems as if the (very ripe) fruits themselves produce this scent.
Anyone who has ever smelled a freshly peeled lychee can confirm that its scent strongly resembles that of certain roses. Francis Kurkdjian himself is said to have commented on the scent with the words, “If roses were fruits, they would most resemble lychees.”
Thus, it is less a classic rose perfume and more an intense lychee scent that neither shies away from its lush sweetness nor needs to. The tropical character is underscored by a hint of fresh coconut water (not coconut milk). The scent does not come across as creamy or milky to my nose, but retains its fine jam-like sweetness until the end. This sets it apart significantly from all other lychee scents I know, such as “Miracle” by Lancome or “Delina” by Parfums de Marly, which always have a somewhat fruity freshness about them.
This sweetness is absolutely enchanting on one hand, but on the other hand, it always carries a hint of melancholy for me. Just as one becomes aware of their own finiteness in the moment of highest happiness.
Or, to put it in the words of Prince (who unfortunately left us far too soon)
“All good things they say never last”

However, this does not apply to the sillage and longevity of the scent, both of which I would describe as above average. The sprayer of my bottle, however, is a cheeky affair. But I can live with that…