Zofi

That was my first thought, but more on that later.

Lately, I've been brave.
I never used to be.
Or in other words, I often just wanted to be like many others. Cute, sweet and just girly. But I'm not, for that my humor is too dirty and the mouth is too big.

My husband likes to wear the Black Afghano, he can also, he is tall, attractive and broad-shouldered. I'm just not, but hey, what the heck, I think to myself, and try the Afghan on me. Goes just unfortunately not at all.
So I went on the search.

Brave, as I am now recently, I ordered Duro blind. The lurid text at the online store I trust: "suitable for men who dare to be themselves."
THAT'S me, I thought to myself!(I'm just not, because I'm a mid-twenties woman with 1.62m height...)
But I dare to be myself.
I'm just not sweet and cheesy, I'm loud and wild.

The first spray, discreetly dosed, almost blew me away. Have I overestimated myself?
No. I find myself really hot. I find myself wicked and a little naughty. I smell like I've snuggled up to a wild, boisterous man.

But that's exactly what makes the Duro. I find it spicy, dark and fresh at the same time. I wear it discreetly, but almost get goosebumps when I have it on my nose.
I find it gloomy and I feel like I'm living in a crypt all in black, but in a positive way!
I feel like a 6'10" goth who has danced the night away and is now making his way home along a forest path at dawn.
I find it fresh, I find it heavy, and I love that very contradiction.

I would love to eat myself up, just physically can't. But my husband thinks that I just wear a perfume that reflects my essence. And this comment is worth a lot, because it comes from a man who thinks with every fragrance "yes, eh quite good".

I like my new perfume-me, and will use the Duro very subtly. Just enough for a mini-rebellion go the girlhood!

My first review, and then immediately about a perfume, which I got today as Pröbchen.
I was in my lunch break briefly at my regular perfumery (is there such a thing at all, if you live in a place with only one perfume store...?) and met there my saleswoman of my confidence.

When I had my things together and was ready at the checkout, she said in a whisper: "I give you a sample with which absolutely does not fit into your Beuteschema. I'm curious what you say, because I think it's terrible. Chewing gum perfume..."
Of course with humor, tastes are of course different and something fun must be.

Already on the way to the car I just HAD to try him, too bright pink was the little bottle.

A splash on the wrist, one on the neck. And lo and behold, bubble gum perfume. But only for a second, then hit me yet a very surprising freshness and a floral cloud.
I perceive even now really almost only the rose, paired with a very delicate note of cherry blossom. Chewing gum gibts in my nose only very very briefly.

The walk to the parking lot I spent actually throughout with the nose on the wrist, somehow I was fascinated.

To describe it in my bumbling layman's opinion - please don't laugh:
I imagine a young couple, she sugary sweet and pink, he a tough guy with leather jacket and wild mane. Different as night and day they stand in front of each other. Although he's not really the type, he's chewing a bright pink HubbaBubba gum. So is she, of course.
And that's how the Moschino looks to me, too. Actually way too fresh for gum, yet also too sweet to be fresh - you know what I mean?

Even if he, as my dear friend in the perfumery said, absolutely does not fit me, I would not mind him but every now and then to Schnuppe , and be it only in passing a young, freshly in love couples.


Unfortunately, the shelf life is not exactly bomb, but that does not have to be in my eyes. He dawns quite peacefully on the skin, but makes a big BAM if you put it on fresh.