Chypre

1 reseña

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• jerry drake

  June 18, 2020

  

  Without the name, I wouldn’t have bought it in Cyprus. It’s a modern floral-spiced scent with substance, like a rose tea with spices. The olfactory pyramid is printed on the cardboard, so it should be easy, like connecting the dots that puzzle seven-year-olds in beachside newspapers. Well, I have five. Because few things have thrown me into crisis more than this perfume. I can pretend to smell the bergamot and tuberose, but we’re in the typical ‘fake until you make it’ scenario. For me, this scent is just a soft, fragrant, enormous cloud that lasts a lifetime. It’s the magical light of the Royal Museums of Fine Arts of Brussels galleries in October, when on a cloudy day everything takes the buttery colour of snow in the Bruegel paintings. It’s the velvety, ethereal texture of a distilled lemon tart sliced through by the mist from Pierre Hermé. It’s the feeling of soft skin (not leather, no, human skin), comfortable places, calm, tranquility, sweetness (not taste, an idea). It’s one of the most calming scents I’ve encountered; it’s like lying in an armchair with a purring cat in your arms. There’s a hint of bubblegum on my nose, but it fits quite well and harmoniously with the floral, spicy, and sweet aroma, with good longevity and totally unisex. Well, after half an hour of sniffing, maybe I’ve finally connected the dots, but at least a coherent shape emerged, a good scent despite not being suitable for me.