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04/14/2024
Axiomatic
21 Reviews
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Axiomatic
Top Review
34
Deceptive water
This water is like a tightrope walk along the female and male olfactory habits of past decades.
Deceptive in its statement of what this chypre wants to be until it supposedly changes for good.
And this is also the danger of the fragrance.
Because nothing is as it seems.
Hiss.
What can I say?
in 1980, Caron was able to grandiosely preserve the tradition of the house and greet it with magnificent hesperides.
And there are plenty of them to be found; the information in the fragrance pyramid is correct here.
As there are:
Very concentrated bergamot, bright lemon and a wonderfully fruity mandarin.
They are all lifted into the air in the house style with playful aldehydes, while casting shadows on the rather tart green herbs.
The basil reminds me of many a fine men's refresher and is made even more striking by the clary sage.
The sweetly resinous base throbs softly like a silent heart that wants to point out the development But nobody listens to the warning.
Typical, one is blinded by the drama of Parisian elegance.
Ah, the catwalk of the beautiful!
A floral gauze of blossoms, like the muslin in the preliminary designs of a dress in haute couture, drapes the initial herbs without wanting to change much.
As if the flowers were still stuck in the stage of ideas.
And it is precisely at this point that an accord makes itself felt that was to cause a sensation at Dior in 1980:
Garden carnation, jasmine and cedar together with basil.
Jules struts confidently through the picture, the vain rooster.
Here, however, Lude has to lose some of his bluster and allow himself to be tamed by softer flowers.
But it still seductively charms with a very Mediterranean thyme, killer grin included.
The warmth at this point in the fragrance is congenial, pure carnal lust throbs here! You almost want to plead: Just a moment, please stay!
Just the little death...
Sorry, I'm drifting off.
Incorrigible!
Unfortunately, our little Juliet has done the math without the flowers.
And so they cover up the macker more and more. He takes a crash course in draping à la toile from the tailors of the high house of fine tailoring.
Monsieur practises his mannerisms.
Gerard Lefort took advantage of the fact that some orchids smell.
This rare blossom has a rosy, vanilla scent and he indulgently lets it take the lead in the fragrance's progression.
It goes in the direction of leathery resins.
And before we know it, we have left the Marais district in Paris and are now in one of the fine boutiques on Avenue Montaigne.
The noble base of the fragrance smells exquisitely bien comme il faut.
A few brushstrokes of oakmoss, a shade of vanilla resins here, a hint of cosmopolitan patchouli there.
Plus high-quality leather, soft and supple.
The ambergris creates the "je ne sais quoi gesture" here and rounds off in a delightfully beguiling way.
The fine lady is a sight to behold, costume, canotier and Kelly bag fit like a glove.
Now off to the obligatory see-and-be-seen at Café Flore on the other side of the Seine. Shoo shoo!
But, but, the danger of the fragrance is only now becoming apparent.
Because the base is not as clear-cut as the previous course.
There is something tartly boyish about the lovely resins.
Well, it's not quite that hearty.
Nevertheless, some of the thyme will get into Madame's head and make her more resolute.
But anyone expecting our annoyed beauty standing at the cab rank on Avenue Montaigne in a melodramatic loss of control will unfortunately be disappointed.
Well, I mean, she's not exactly going to clear her throat and spit in the street because there's no cab in sight.
And if someone snatches the means of transportation from under her nose, she's certainly not going to let her inner construction worker hang out.
Phrases like:
"Va te faire BIEB! Sale fils de BIEB!"
will not pass her neatly made-up lips easily.
Such a:
"Espèce d'imbécile!"
would be in there, though.
I mean, it's human.
It happens to everyone and even in the best families.
Well, what would it be like with Julchen? Thanks to the flowers and resins, things get dicey here, downright dangerous.
He, the king of the Trou d'Enfer in the darkest and most notorious alley in the Marais, might be tempted to make the following faux pas in the company of his mackers after a few sprays.
"Écoute mon vieux, pas des clopes ce soir!"
I'm ordering one of these lovely Religieuses with my café crème today. Or would you prefer the excellent macarons à la double Framboise Virginie?"
Well, well, Julchen will have some explaining to do with his half-silkies when he is nursed back up and woken from anesthesia.
I mean, in the emergency room, the hearts of those scoundrels will surely soften when they take a closer look at their oeuvre in the glaring light, their leader's bruises on gloriously soft resins.
And who knows?
Perhaps this little water from Caron will have a civilizing effect?
As the saying goes, packs fight, packs get along.
Even in the city of love.
Deceptive in its statement of what this chypre wants to be until it supposedly changes for good.
And this is also the danger of the fragrance.
Because nothing is as it seems.
Hiss.
What can I say?
in 1980, Caron was able to grandiosely preserve the tradition of the house and greet it with magnificent hesperides.
And there are plenty of them to be found; the information in the fragrance pyramid is correct here.
As there are:
Very concentrated bergamot, bright lemon and a wonderfully fruity mandarin.
They are all lifted into the air in the house style with playful aldehydes, while casting shadows on the rather tart green herbs.
The basil reminds me of many a fine men's refresher and is made even more striking by the clary sage.
The sweetly resinous base throbs softly like a silent heart that wants to point out the development But nobody listens to the warning.
Typical, one is blinded by the drama of Parisian elegance.
Ah, the catwalk of the beautiful!
A floral gauze of blossoms, like the muslin in the preliminary designs of a dress in haute couture, drapes the initial herbs without wanting to change much.
As if the flowers were still stuck in the stage of ideas.
And it is precisely at this point that an accord makes itself felt that was to cause a sensation at Dior in 1980:
Garden carnation, jasmine and cedar together with basil.
Jules struts confidently through the picture, the vain rooster.
Here, however, Lude has to lose some of his bluster and allow himself to be tamed by softer flowers.
But it still seductively charms with a very Mediterranean thyme, killer grin included.
The warmth at this point in the fragrance is congenial, pure carnal lust throbs here! You almost want to plead: Just a moment, please stay!
Just the little death...
Sorry, I'm drifting off.
Incorrigible!
Unfortunately, our little Juliet has done the math without the flowers.
And so they cover up the macker more and more. He takes a crash course in draping à la toile from the tailors of the high house of fine tailoring.
Monsieur practises his mannerisms.
Gerard Lefort took advantage of the fact that some orchids smell.
This rare blossom has a rosy, vanilla scent and he indulgently lets it take the lead in the fragrance's progression.
It goes in the direction of leathery resins.
And before we know it, we have left the Marais district in Paris and are now in one of the fine boutiques on Avenue Montaigne.
The noble base of the fragrance smells exquisitely bien comme il faut.
A few brushstrokes of oakmoss, a shade of vanilla resins here, a hint of cosmopolitan patchouli there.
Plus high-quality leather, soft and supple.
The ambergris creates the "je ne sais quoi gesture" here and rounds off in a delightfully beguiling way.
The fine lady is a sight to behold, costume, canotier and Kelly bag fit like a glove.
Now off to the obligatory see-and-be-seen at Café Flore on the other side of the Seine. Shoo shoo!
But, but, the danger of the fragrance is only now becoming apparent.
Because the base is not as clear-cut as the previous course.
There is something tartly boyish about the lovely resins.
Well, it's not quite that hearty.
Nevertheless, some of the thyme will get into Madame's head and make her more resolute.
But anyone expecting our annoyed beauty standing at the cab rank on Avenue Montaigne in a melodramatic loss of control will unfortunately be disappointed.
Well, I mean, she's not exactly going to clear her throat and spit in the street because there's no cab in sight.
And if someone snatches the means of transportation from under her nose, she's certainly not going to let her inner construction worker hang out.
Phrases like:
"Va te faire BIEB! Sale fils de BIEB!"
will not pass her neatly made-up lips easily.
Such a:
"Espèce d'imbécile!"
would be in there, though.
I mean, it's human.
It happens to everyone and even in the best families.
Well, what would it be like with Julchen? Thanks to the flowers and resins, things get dicey here, downright dangerous.
He, the king of the Trou d'Enfer in the darkest and most notorious alley in the Marais, might be tempted to make the following faux pas in the company of his mackers after a few sprays.
"Écoute mon vieux, pas des clopes ce soir!"
I'm ordering one of these lovely Religieuses with my café crème today. Or would you prefer the excellent macarons à la double Framboise Virginie?"
Well, well, Julchen will have some explaining to do with his half-silkies when he is nursed back up and woken from anesthesia.
I mean, in the emergency room, the hearts of those scoundrels will surely soften when they take a closer look at their oeuvre in the glaring light, their leader's bruises on gloriously soft resins.
And who knows?
Perhaps this little water from Caron will have a civilizing effect?
As the saying goes, packs fight, packs get along.
Even in the city of love.
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