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The Countess and the Ghost in the Moonlight
Dawn.
The evening tastes of the melting sun at the horizon and sips still tenderly at the transient day, until it absorbs it finally completely. Only the morning will again bring forth a new day from the night, and it will perhaps more or less resemble the preceding one.
But before that it is time with the evening twilight.
Time, as it returns every evening. Already so long. Exactly then, when the sun apparently deposits its light at the edge of the earth and a gentle breeze finally extinguishes it.
Then a gate opens at the side of the castle.
Previously hidden by rose hedges, an ornate wrought-iron gate wing is pushed open a bit and a shadow flits out and into the evening landscape.
Those who know the castle and its history know who has stepped out of the shadow of the hedges. At this time of day, the Countess is out in her garden. She loves the sunlight, but she enjoys the evening and the night as well. Then she walks along the pebble paths, which gradually lead her further and further into the artfully laid out flower beds and to the individual self-contained smaller gardens with their lush plantings.
The wind gently caresses the skin and hair of the Countess as she seems to absorb every moment in the opulent landscape. Every step with her little silk slippers can be heard on the pebbles, as well as the rustling of the hem of her dress, which brushes over it.
But today something is different.
The discarded rose at the foot of the castle steps is the agreed sign for which she has waited so long. Meeting place is a certain place in the garden.
In a pavilion surrounded by ivy almost completely and opaque, she meets a figure. As the Countess enters, she slowly rises from the round table and bows somewhat laboriously but nevertheless devotedly. After the lady of the manor has seated herself, she also instructs her counterpart with an elegant hand gesture to seat herself again.
"Well my dear, what have you brought me beautiful?" the gentle voice of the mistress is heard at the same time.
The figure sits down slowly and moves forward to the edge of the table, out of the shadow of the ivy-covered dome into the sparse evening light.
To see is an old woman, wrapped in dark robe, the wide hood laid over the long white curly hair. Her coat is embroidered at the borders with symbols that seem to change with every movement, as if the fabric would live with her or through her.
The old woman reaches into her coat and pulls out a small box, which she gently slides into the center of the table. There the countess takes it and places it in front of her.
As if to curb her anticipation of the past months, she hesitates briefly before lifting the lid of the box and breathing deeply.
Now she holds in her hands what she asked the old woman from the woods.
An old woman who pretended at the time to be a tired wanderer and in search of food and a camp for the night. The great-hearted landowner offered her her home and the next day, when the old woman said goodbye, she granted the countess three wishes in gratitude.
Two still remain unspoken, but the one she now holds in her hands.
At first glance, a black, crystal bottle, but its multi-faceted cut in the evening light sparkles midnight blue and seems to be powdered with diamond dust.
A structure as if it had been personally designed by the goddess of the night and provided with star shine. The light of dawn gives the small vessel a truly unearthly grace.
Tentatively, almost reverently, the Countess carefully loosens the stopper and pulls it out. Almost simultaneously arises from the flacon a breathtaking fragrance, as if it were made only of the most beautiful dreams. The mistress drops a droplet on the back of her hand, where it spreads almost oily on the skin. The closer she brings her hand to her nose, the more she can recognize her dark red rose, which she loves so much. It graces the center of her gardens and is tall, lush and proud. Velvety petals exude fairy tales from 1001 Nights and its fragrance lingers in soft veils over the entire garden landscape. Even the iris, which grows along the castle wall, can be recognized without a doubt in the elixir and shines with the stately rose. Even the smell of the noble suede coat of the late husband of the countess has been skillfully captured by the old woman and harmoniously added to the two royally scented flowers. It adds a sensual softness and even more depth to the perfume and makes the mistress briefly struggle for composure. The coat, tragically, her husband could never wear and yet he seems to be omnipresent through the fragrance with it.
Essential oil of the patchouli plant had brought the countess from a trip from India and hoarded since then like a treasure. She has been waiting for the right moment to create something special from it. The oil almost magically completes the other fragrance essences and gives everything a strong yet sensitive character. Just like that of the Countess.
How could the old woman so unerringly create a perfume elixir with the desired notes of the Countess of the Castle and complement it with her own essences, resulting in a flawless fragrance of such harmony? A question that can be discerned in her astonished gaze.
But the old woman wraps herself in silence, smiling only smugly. The gleam in the eyes of the mistress and her pleasurable, almost dreamy absorption of the vapors from the back of her hand reveal without words that she has exactly hit the heart of her counterpart with her creation.
Night has fallen in the meantime. Time for the old woman to set off. Slowly she rises from the table and bows slightly. Then she carefully descends the steps of the pavilion and walks with unhurried steps along the accurately cut box bushes that lead to the end of the garden and out and into the night.
The Countess looks once again at the wonderful bottle as she realizes that she hasn't really said thank you to the woman yet.
But when she looks up from the table in her direction, the old woman has disappeared from the path. Not a sound, not a trace, as if she had never been there. It almost seemed to her as if she had met with a ghost. A truly good spirit.
The way over the pebble paths back to the castle strides the countess with raised head and a blissful smile. In her hands the small box with the precious flacon. The tears that flow down her face are tears of joy and glisten slightly in the moonlight.
This elixir she will guard like her life.
Indulge in a drop of it whenever she wants to remember days gone by and give herself gifts in the present on special occasions.
And to all who ask, she will say in a mysterious voice, "This treasure was given to me by a spirit in the moonlight."
Note: For me personally Moonlight Patchouli is not a bright and cheerful fragrance, but has something mystical and mysterious. The bottle could also be wrapped in black velvet.
I find the fragrance elegant, neat and stylish. He shines and lasts a long time and has already brought me many a compliment.
And I can certainly imagine him on a gentleman who loves special things.
The evening tastes of the melting sun at the horizon and sips still tenderly at the transient day, until it absorbs it finally completely. Only the morning will again bring forth a new day from the night, and it will perhaps more or less resemble the preceding one.
But before that it is time with the evening twilight.
Time, as it returns every evening. Already so long. Exactly then, when the sun apparently deposits its light at the edge of the earth and a gentle breeze finally extinguishes it.
Then a gate opens at the side of the castle.
Previously hidden by rose hedges, an ornate wrought-iron gate wing is pushed open a bit and a shadow flits out and into the evening landscape.
Those who know the castle and its history know who has stepped out of the shadow of the hedges. At this time of day, the Countess is out in her garden. She loves the sunlight, but she enjoys the evening and the night as well. Then she walks along the pebble paths, which gradually lead her further and further into the artfully laid out flower beds and to the individual self-contained smaller gardens with their lush plantings.
The wind gently caresses the skin and hair of the Countess as she seems to absorb every moment in the opulent landscape. Every step with her little silk slippers can be heard on the pebbles, as well as the rustling of the hem of her dress, which brushes over it.
But today something is different.
The discarded rose at the foot of the castle steps is the agreed sign for which she has waited so long. Meeting place is a certain place in the garden.
In a pavilion surrounded by ivy almost completely and opaque, she meets a figure. As the Countess enters, she slowly rises from the round table and bows somewhat laboriously but nevertheless devotedly. After the lady of the manor has seated herself, she also instructs her counterpart with an elegant hand gesture to seat herself again.
"Well my dear, what have you brought me beautiful?" the gentle voice of the mistress is heard at the same time.
The figure sits down slowly and moves forward to the edge of the table, out of the shadow of the ivy-covered dome into the sparse evening light.
To see is an old woman, wrapped in dark robe, the wide hood laid over the long white curly hair. Her coat is embroidered at the borders with symbols that seem to change with every movement, as if the fabric would live with her or through her.
The old woman reaches into her coat and pulls out a small box, which she gently slides into the center of the table. There the countess takes it and places it in front of her.
As if to curb her anticipation of the past months, she hesitates briefly before lifting the lid of the box and breathing deeply.
Now she holds in her hands what she asked the old woman from the woods.
An old woman who pretended at the time to be a tired wanderer and in search of food and a camp for the night. The great-hearted landowner offered her her home and the next day, when the old woman said goodbye, she granted the countess three wishes in gratitude.
Two still remain unspoken, but the one she now holds in her hands.
At first glance, a black, crystal bottle, but its multi-faceted cut in the evening light sparkles midnight blue and seems to be powdered with diamond dust.
A structure as if it had been personally designed by the goddess of the night and provided with star shine. The light of dawn gives the small vessel a truly unearthly grace.
Tentatively, almost reverently, the Countess carefully loosens the stopper and pulls it out. Almost simultaneously arises from the flacon a breathtaking fragrance, as if it were made only of the most beautiful dreams. The mistress drops a droplet on the back of her hand, where it spreads almost oily on the skin. The closer she brings her hand to her nose, the more she can recognize her dark red rose, which she loves so much. It graces the center of her gardens and is tall, lush and proud. Velvety petals exude fairy tales from 1001 Nights and its fragrance lingers in soft veils over the entire garden landscape. Even the iris, which grows along the castle wall, can be recognized without a doubt in the elixir and shines with the stately rose. Even the smell of the noble suede coat of the late husband of the countess has been skillfully captured by the old woman and harmoniously added to the two royally scented flowers. It adds a sensual softness and even more depth to the perfume and makes the mistress briefly struggle for composure. The coat, tragically, her husband could never wear and yet he seems to be omnipresent through the fragrance with it.
Essential oil of the patchouli plant had brought the countess from a trip from India and hoarded since then like a treasure. She has been waiting for the right moment to create something special from it. The oil almost magically completes the other fragrance essences and gives everything a strong yet sensitive character. Just like that of the Countess.
How could the old woman so unerringly create a perfume elixir with the desired notes of the Countess of the Castle and complement it with her own essences, resulting in a flawless fragrance of such harmony? A question that can be discerned in her astonished gaze.
But the old woman wraps herself in silence, smiling only smugly. The gleam in the eyes of the mistress and her pleasurable, almost dreamy absorption of the vapors from the back of her hand reveal without words that she has exactly hit the heart of her counterpart with her creation.
Night has fallen in the meantime. Time for the old woman to set off. Slowly she rises from the table and bows slightly. Then she carefully descends the steps of the pavilion and walks with unhurried steps along the accurately cut box bushes that lead to the end of the garden and out and into the night.
The Countess looks once again at the wonderful bottle as she realizes that she hasn't really said thank you to the woman yet.
But when she looks up from the table in her direction, the old woman has disappeared from the path. Not a sound, not a trace, as if she had never been there. It almost seemed to her as if she had met with a ghost. A truly good spirit.
The way over the pebble paths back to the castle strides the countess with raised head and a blissful smile. In her hands the small box with the precious flacon. The tears that flow down her face are tears of joy and glisten slightly in the moonlight.
This elixir she will guard like her life.
Indulge in a drop of it whenever she wants to remember days gone by and give herself gifts in the present on special occasions.
And to all who ask, she will say in a mysterious voice, "This treasure was given to me by a spirit in the moonlight."
Note: For me personally Moonlight Patchouli is not a bright and cheerful fragrance, but has something mystical and mysterious. The bottle could also be wrapped in black velvet.
I find the fragrance elegant, neat and stylish. He shines and lasts a long time and has already brought me many a compliment.
And I can certainly imagine him on a gentleman who loves special things.
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Romancing the (Black) Stone
Now he is there!
Like a smoothly polished pure black onyx, highly polished and without blemish looks the bottle and also lies accordingly like a hand flatterer in the palm of your hand. Or like a brand new smooth soap that you only use to aromatize a wardrobe and like to take it in your hands to sniff it. This Obsessed "stone" is made to flatter and smell like them.
The citrus notes including the mandarin hold themselves to my luck in the background, while the Elemiharz with a slightly woody green aura emerges from the spray head. A thoroughly unisex opening. The lavender note also contributes its part to this classification, but everything is still feminine enough to give woman pleasure. It's just all moving away from the sweet and floral mainstreamers for a change, and I think that's a good thing. Even if I like the one or the other acquaintance of this group, I am also gladly open to new ideas, because variety makes the (Parfuma-)life rich.
So after the resin and lavender have mixed so nicely, that also becomes even more harmonious, somehow softer and less herbaceous by Labdanum, which can sometimes settle its fragrance development between amber and moss. As I find, it is then also exactly these components that I think to sniff, because the fragrance becomes warmer and richer, somehow rounder.
If the bottle were not black, I would see him in a beautiful dark green and if you hold it against the sun, its center would shine golden green and flow to the edge further and further into the dark.
But now it's just black, the design and why not really. Something mystical have yes forests with heavy moss growth also.
I also perceive an amber note and it appears here like the ground on which the forest stands and the mosses lie, which softly cushion every step like a green carpet and gradually make the indented tracks disappear again with the straightening up.
Almost as if no one had ever walked along there. And a hint of musk is like the wind blowing the body scent of the forest visitor out into the clearing between the tree trunks and shrubs.
Then the forest is itself again, without foreign smells and without visitors. Until someone enters it again, then the spectacle takes its course once more.
But that's hardly how "Obsessed" fares. Where he floats, he is noticed and he may stay. His almost cuddly and somehow natural aura meanders past outlines and figures that turn to look at it. As it passes, one or the other may hear a melody like a delicate voice. The song is called "Obsession" and consists of only about four notes, which in constantly changing arrangement result in a play of sounds and which always remains very quiet.
Like a fleeting memory.
So now it's here!
Obsessed for Women!
Graceful as a "fragrance stone", exuding its warm and soft notes that give a feeling of comfort. I imagine Obsessed as a suitable companion on cooler summer and spring days, and in fall and winter. The woods also harbor a certain coolness, even in the summer. So their flavors always remain pristine and pure.
I take the bottle in my hands, look at it and feel the first still cool flawless surface, but which quickly warms up.
What is happening to me right now?
I think I know.
I am romancing the (Black) Stone!
Like a smoothly polished pure black onyx, highly polished and without blemish looks the bottle and also lies accordingly like a hand flatterer in the palm of your hand. Or like a brand new smooth soap that you only use to aromatize a wardrobe and like to take it in your hands to sniff it. This Obsessed "stone" is made to flatter and smell like them.
The citrus notes including the mandarin hold themselves to my luck in the background, while the Elemiharz with a slightly woody green aura emerges from the spray head. A thoroughly unisex opening. The lavender note also contributes its part to this classification, but everything is still feminine enough to give woman pleasure. It's just all moving away from the sweet and floral mainstreamers for a change, and I think that's a good thing. Even if I like the one or the other acquaintance of this group, I am also gladly open to new ideas, because variety makes the (Parfuma-)life rich.
So after the resin and lavender have mixed so nicely, that also becomes even more harmonious, somehow softer and less herbaceous by Labdanum, which can sometimes settle its fragrance development between amber and moss. As I find, it is then also exactly these components that I think to sniff, because the fragrance becomes warmer and richer, somehow rounder.
If the bottle were not black, I would see him in a beautiful dark green and if you hold it against the sun, its center would shine golden green and flow to the edge further and further into the dark.
But now it's just black, the design and why not really. Something mystical have yes forests with heavy moss growth also.
I also perceive an amber note and it appears here like the ground on which the forest stands and the mosses lie, which softly cushion every step like a green carpet and gradually make the indented tracks disappear again with the straightening up.
Almost as if no one had ever walked along there. And a hint of musk is like the wind blowing the body scent of the forest visitor out into the clearing between the tree trunks and shrubs.
Then the forest is itself again, without foreign smells and without visitors. Until someone enters it again, then the spectacle takes its course once more.
But that's hardly how "Obsessed" fares. Where he floats, he is noticed and he may stay. His almost cuddly and somehow natural aura meanders past outlines and figures that turn to look at it. As it passes, one or the other may hear a melody like a delicate voice. The song is called "Obsession" and consists of only about four notes, which in constantly changing arrangement result in a play of sounds and which always remains very quiet.
Like a fleeting memory.
So now it's here!
Obsessed for Women!
Graceful as a "fragrance stone", exuding its warm and soft notes that give a feeling of comfort. I imagine Obsessed as a suitable companion on cooler summer and spring days, and in fall and winter. The woods also harbor a certain coolness, even in the summer. So their flavors always remain pristine and pure.
I take the bottle in my hands, look at it and feel the first still cool flawless surface, but which quickly warms up.
What is happening to me right now?
I think I know.
I am romancing the (Black) Stone!
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Gharaam or my little prophecy
Meanwhile, I have come across many would-be Baccarat Rouge 540 fragrances.
Some accidentally or intentionally similar and perfectly acceptable, others rather unintentionally, endeavored or failed.
There are some that are more unisex than others, then others that lean well perceptibly to the more feminine or masculine side.
Gharaam by Swiss Arabian is my latest comparison.
Since the direction of the fragrance appeals to me in general, with me the Baccarat Rouge 540 so far but could not quite score and there were also always smaller or larger disturbing notes with many of his "competitors", the search remained unfinished until today.
Until today.
Because now I have found my "Personal Baccarat Rouge 540"!
Joy reigns!
While in the direct comparison BR540 comes rather restrained at me in momentum, Gharaam comes right to the (fragrance) thing. BR540 also seems to me a little sweeter and then emerges after a few minutes just this transformation with him, which makes me dislike him. It becomes very melancholic on my skin. Saffron is not the problem. I could well imagine it's the differently "portioned" parts of jasmine, cedar and amber that just have this effect on me. Especially when jasmine gets too "buttery", I get problems. Mugler's Angel also has such mood pushers in it for me, even though there are other suspects in a completely different scent. But the effect is still the same. And fortunately only a few fragrances have that effect on me. But if they have him, then nothing is to save, even after years of abstinence and renewed attempts not.
So while I'm blithely writing down my impressions here for just a few minutes, BR540 has already hit the valley of misery, and not just with said notes, but also with the sillage and longevity. It's just barely there, but just enough to literally rub its displeasure in my face. BR540 just doesn't like me. And when he's like this, I don't like him either!
And while he finally sneaks slowly backwards out the door away from one arm, Gharaam dances samba on the other!
Exuberantly yet stylishly he makes his rounds and lets his seductive scent swathes around my face and that even after hours, as if I had just let him out of the bottle.
Gharaam has distinctly perceptibly happier notes for me. Its essence is more cheerful and that is also infectious. The one or other droplet of fir resin does him good and his scent thereby runs like lubricated and over hours into the 2-digit range. On clothes even until the next wash.
At no time drops a note, everything remains linear and smooth.
The color of the fragrance water also reflects for me the fragrance impression. Golden as the sun it shines and I could even imagine that BR540 opponents might like the Gharaam, because it is just more cheerful and a bit more elegant.
Quite clear for me is also to classify his fragrance dance in the unisex area. How it eventually turns out depends on the person wearing it and their own skin scent.
After a while, when I run my nose very close over my skin, where the scent lies with its veil close over its warmth ... that's exactly where I perceive a subtle caramel note. Warm, noble and somehow delicious but not edible delicious, but just the highest fragrance pleasure.
Gharaam of Swiss Arabian has convinced me with quite great quality, perfect harmony of the individual notes, the extremely pleasant fragrance character and also the price. Here it is worth a few minutes longer to sit at the PC and compare. Then you can fish for a gem, which leaves a famous name in the shade and shines even in the sunlight.
Gharaam, I dare to predict that you are already one of my biggest fragrance discoveries of this year and remain so!
Some accidentally or intentionally similar and perfectly acceptable, others rather unintentionally, endeavored or failed.
There are some that are more unisex than others, then others that lean well perceptibly to the more feminine or masculine side.
Gharaam by Swiss Arabian is my latest comparison.
Since the direction of the fragrance appeals to me in general, with me the Baccarat Rouge 540 so far but could not quite score and there were also always smaller or larger disturbing notes with many of his "competitors", the search remained unfinished until today.
Until today.
Because now I have found my "Personal Baccarat Rouge 540"!
Joy reigns!
While in the direct comparison BR540 comes rather restrained at me in momentum, Gharaam comes right to the (fragrance) thing. BR540 also seems to me a little sweeter and then emerges after a few minutes just this transformation with him, which makes me dislike him. It becomes very melancholic on my skin. Saffron is not the problem. I could well imagine it's the differently "portioned" parts of jasmine, cedar and amber that just have this effect on me. Especially when jasmine gets too "buttery", I get problems. Mugler's Angel also has such mood pushers in it for me, even though there are other suspects in a completely different scent. But the effect is still the same. And fortunately only a few fragrances have that effect on me. But if they have him, then nothing is to save, even after years of abstinence and renewed attempts not.
So while I'm blithely writing down my impressions here for just a few minutes, BR540 has already hit the valley of misery, and not just with said notes, but also with the sillage and longevity. It's just barely there, but just enough to literally rub its displeasure in my face. BR540 just doesn't like me. And when he's like this, I don't like him either!
And while he finally sneaks slowly backwards out the door away from one arm, Gharaam dances samba on the other!
Exuberantly yet stylishly he makes his rounds and lets his seductive scent swathes around my face and that even after hours, as if I had just let him out of the bottle.
Gharaam has distinctly perceptibly happier notes for me. Its essence is more cheerful and that is also infectious. The one or other droplet of fir resin does him good and his scent thereby runs like lubricated and over hours into the 2-digit range. On clothes even until the next wash.
At no time drops a note, everything remains linear and smooth.
The color of the fragrance water also reflects for me the fragrance impression. Golden as the sun it shines and I could even imagine that BR540 opponents might like the Gharaam, because it is just more cheerful and a bit more elegant.
Quite clear for me is also to classify his fragrance dance in the unisex area. How it eventually turns out depends on the person wearing it and their own skin scent.
After a while, when I run my nose very close over my skin, where the scent lies with its veil close over its warmth ... that's exactly where I perceive a subtle caramel note. Warm, noble and somehow delicious but not edible delicious, but just the highest fragrance pleasure.
Gharaam of Swiss Arabian has convinced me with quite great quality, perfect harmony of the individual notes, the extremely pleasant fragrance character and also the price. Here it is worth a few minutes longer to sit at the PC and compare. Then you can fish for a gem, which leaves a famous name in the shade and shines even in the sunlight.
Gharaam, I dare to predict that you are already one of my biggest fragrance discoveries of this year and remain so!
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Day & Night Magnetism
What a wonderful welcoming committee greets me here after the first sprayer!
Inger and a juicy full-bodied blueberry are so recognizable that my mouth is almost watering.
An interplay of effervescence of ginger paired with the rather dull, barely present sweetness of very ripe blue berries, together make a very special fragrance fireworks in my senses. Together they are a very special team, which immediately grabs me and makes me curious for more.
Magnétique is this fragrance already!
That the bergamot for my little nose keeps a little covered, does not bother me further, for that give the other two already neat gas.
On my skin, the blueberries are even more recognizable and seem even softer and riper. On fabric it is just ginger that predominates. In any case, until well make out jasmine and plum show up. Everything fits nicely into the initial bouquet, not only in terms of color, but also the fragrant notes, which complement each other so perfectly and spur each other almost noticeably still to peak performance.
One could almost speak of a lively dance of the fragrance molecules on and above the cloth. With a little imagination, you can see them and how they move elegantly in the Duftrythmus around itself.
Another magnetic moment!
For a long time I perceive mainly this "dancing" quartet, until yet a few minutes later again exclusively on the fabric patchouli, a lot of amber and soft musk show up, which still wrap the whole thing in almost sexy touched and delicious vibes.
Meanwhile, there's not much going on on my skin. The mutual playing up of the various components has almost not taken place here or has passed right after the start. What remains is a very delicate and ambery plum touch, without the other more lively and seductive notes.
With this I can live very well, since I wear fragrances exclusively on clothes.
And I notice now already, that this creation of the "somewhat different company" may linger with me a lot longer.
For me, "Une Nuit Magnétique" is a fabulously cuddly fragrance, warming, with soft dark berry-floral fluffy scarves that wrap around me, fragrant and lulling.
Its perky yet irresistible charm captures me and won't let me go.
Or do I not want to let go of HIM?
This fragrance needs fresh air to breathe. Warmth he holds enough in itself and would he move in the summer, he would soon succumb to its pressure.
This fragrance turns night into day and day into night.
All as the creatures that follow it like, for they live on both sides.
I belong to them from now on.
And those who love him want him around one way or another.
All day long just like. "All Night Long"!
Inger and a juicy full-bodied blueberry are so recognizable that my mouth is almost watering.
An interplay of effervescence of ginger paired with the rather dull, barely present sweetness of very ripe blue berries, together make a very special fragrance fireworks in my senses. Together they are a very special team, which immediately grabs me and makes me curious for more.
Magnétique is this fragrance already!
That the bergamot for my little nose keeps a little covered, does not bother me further, for that give the other two already neat gas.
On my skin, the blueberries are even more recognizable and seem even softer and riper. On fabric it is just ginger that predominates. In any case, until well make out jasmine and plum show up. Everything fits nicely into the initial bouquet, not only in terms of color, but also the fragrant notes, which complement each other so perfectly and spur each other almost noticeably still to peak performance.
One could almost speak of a lively dance of the fragrance molecules on and above the cloth. With a little imagination, you can see them and how they move elegantly in the Duftrythmus around itself.
Another magnetic moment!
For a long time I perceive mainly this "dancing" quartet, until yet a few minutes later again exclusively on the fabric patchouli, a lot of amber and soft musk show up, which still wrap the whole thing in almost sexy touched and delicious vibes.
Meanwhile, there's not much going on on my skin. The mutual playing up of the various components has almost not taken place here or has passed right after the start. What remains is a very delicate and ambery plum touch, without the other more lively and seductive notes.
With this I can live very well, since I wear fragrances exclusively on clothes.
And I notice now already, that this creation of the "somewhat different company" may linger with me a lot longer.
For me, "Une Nuit Magnétique" is a fabulously cuddly fragrance, warming, with soft dark berry-floral fluffy scarves that wrap around me, fragrant and lulling.
Its perky yet irresistible charm captures me and won't let me go.
Or do I not want to let go of HIM?
This fragrance needs fresh air to breathe. Warmth he holds enough in itself and would he move in the summer, he would soon succumb to its pressure.
This fragrance turns night into day and day into night.
All as the creatures that follow it like, for they live on both sides.
I belong to them from now on.
And those who love him want him around one way or another.
All day long just like. "All Night Long"!
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Kashmir coat on naked skin
The fact that on grey days under grey clothes there doesn't necessarily have to be a musty grey scent, that's what this Valentina stands for despite its colouring.
The first thing that comes my way is an intense, very dense jasmine with a very buttery note. Normally this impact knocks me out immediately.
Usually.
But here myrrh steers against it so directly that my "instant knockout" thoughts are immediately lost.
While this interplay of the two notes wafts around my nose, I get an association with Amouage fragrances, especially Epic Woman, which I can call my own. Just like with the Amouages, you can clearly smell, analyse and enjoy the play of scents of the individual components. It's clearly not a comparison of scents, it's only about the scent framework, which is perceived in such detail by both of them and which also represents a high quality by both.
The slight melancholy that runs through Valentina Myrrha Assoluto from beginning to end makes me think of Epic again. Although they are not fresh and cheerful scents, their heavy and dense spicy vibes do not cause depression.
Rather, these opulent scented carpets invite you to sit down on their soft high pile and sink into them and into wonderful dreams.
The fact that Valentina Myrrha Assoluto still has a valuable, almost unsweet vanilla that comes to the fore over time is another reason to treat yourself to another drop of it.
I have a minimal perception of leather. Also ylang and musk rather in the extra role. After about a quarter of an hour, the buttery jasmine note, myrrh and vanilla come to my basic target as equal partners, where they then remain in a vibrating warmth for many hours.
To my senses, Valentina Myrrha Assoluto is as much a unisex scent as many of the Amouages are.
His breath can easily keep up with this big name, as can the Sillage.
If I didn't know who it was really emanating from, I would actually advise that it might be emanating from the Amouage center.
A beautiful, spicy, warming and special companion for rather cooler temperatures, with high quality notes and the same implementation.
Valentina Myrrha Assoluto: Like wearing a long cashmere coat on naked skin.
The first thing that comes my way is an intense, very dense jasmine with a very buttery note. Normally this impact knocks me out immediately.
Usually.
But here myrrh steers against it so directly that my "instant knockout" thoughts are immediately lost.
While this interplay of the two notes wafts around my nose, I get an association with Amouage fragrances, especially Epic Woman, which I can call my own. Just like with the Amouages, you can clearly smell, analyse and enjoy the play of scents of the individual components. It's clearly not a comparison of scents, it's only about the scent framework, which is perceived in such detail by both of them and which also represents a high quality by both.
The slight melancholy that runs through Valentina Myrrha Assoluto from beginning to end makes me think of Epic again. Although they are not fresh and cheerful scents, their heavy and dense spicy vibes do not cause depression.
Rather, these opulent scented carpets invite you to sit down on their soft high pile and sink into them and into wonderful dreams.
The fact that Valentina Myrrha Assoluto still has a valuable, almost unsweet vanilla that comes to the fore over time is another reason to treat yourself to another drop of it.
I have a minimal perception of leather. Also ylang and musk rather in the extra role. After about a quarter of an hour, the buttery jasmine note, myrrh and vanilla come to my basic target as equal partners, where they then remain in a vibrating warmth for many hours.
To my senses, Valentina Myrrha Assoluto is as much a unisex scent as many of the Amouages are.
His breath can easily keep up with this big name, as can the Sillage.
If I didn't know who it was really emanating from, I would actually advise that it might be emanating from the Amouage center.
A beautiful, spicy, warming and special companion for rather cooler temperatures, with high quality notes and the same implementation.
Valentina Myrrha Assoluto: Like wearing a long cashmere coat on naked skin.
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