Vetivier

St. Tropez. Summer, sun, sunshine. I stroll along the quay, licking ice cream, and admire, like many other tourists, the closely packed, luxurious yachts. They seem far too large and somewhat bulky compared to this small and charming, very picturesque harbor town, which feels like it's begging for peace. Less is sometimes more, I ponder, and my gaze falls on a perfumery located right by the harbor. Allez, c'est bon, I think and walk in purposefully, filled with joyful anticipation. A small, well-stocked shop with both designer and niche fragrances, all of which are also sold in Germany. Xerjoff, Creed, and Amouage, to name a few, none of which appeal to me. Here, money obviously plays no role, I observe. Bags full of perfumes are being carried out, and the saleswomen are busy. I’m not finding what I’m looking for, I think to myself and decide to go back outside. And then, out of the corner of my eye, I discover, somewhat hidden, the fragrances from Domaine Privé. Never seen, heard, or read about them. Simple white bottles, and the name on the labels is programmatic, I realize after the first sniff. I like them very much. When I reached Chèvrefeuille, I immediately thought of my mother. She smelled of the Chèvrefeuille by Yves Rocher for what felt like decades during my childhood, which she loved dearly. I also liked it very much on her. "Where have you been all these years?" I secretly ask the bottle and decide to take it with me, because my mother's scent preferences are also mine.
This fragrance is very fresh, zesty, and citrusy. It never becomes too green for me, like, I’ll name a negative example: Philosykos Eau de Toilette. It is absolutely linear; no nasty surprises are to be expected. I like straightforward fragrances, just as I appreciate straightforwardness in my personal life. Straightforward, direct, and not going around in circles... A factor that has often bothered me when testing fragrances. The longevity is like with all freshies: rather so-so, but not: o la la!. I’ll mention another negative example: Eau de Rochas Citron Soleil, which bids farewell to the eternal hunting grounds right after spraying.
For me personally, a special fragrance that wanted to be found by me. It is not elegant or even pompous, rather very simple + plain, and yet, or precisely because of that, absolutely lovable! As I leave, my gaze falls again on the yachts at the harbor. Less is so much more, and I think of my mother.

For me, it is a matter of course to write a review/homage to the scent, my scent, as my first review here in the forum. The fragrance that has accompanied me solely and exclusively for many years. I did not need any variety; I am devoted to it. Only recently, I have cautiously looked beyond my plate, my curiosity has been awakened. Why? Because it was nowhere to be bought, supply issues. But I have it again (God be praised and whistled) and I am thoroughly considering what beautiful and ambitious things I could write about it. I can't think of anything. The best and shortest review ever written about a fragrance, in my opinion, was by Marilyn Monroe: "In bed, I wear only (and now everyone in chorus) Chanel No.5." There. That said everything one needed to know about this scent. I can only add to that sentence for my signature fragrance. At university, at work, at the Christmas market, when stepping onto a deserted island in the Bahamas. While exercising, on the couch, in a fancy restaurant, or at the currywurst stand. And no, it is not macabre when I claim that I wouldn't mind getting a few more sprays before my coffin lid is nailed shut forever. It's like love: when you have it, you feel it and gladly wear it, and with ten generous sprays, on yourself. So, outside, the day is gradually coming to an end, I’m going to go and spritz myself now...