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Notes11/14/2020
Can777
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Can777
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Victor and Victoria
Autumn 1927 in Paris. It's night!
An obscure alley. Gently rustling old and dried-out leaves carried by the wind across the cobblestone pavement. The back door of the artists' entrance to the cabaret is slightly open. The chapel is playing a quiet tango. Outside on the wall in the shadow of the oil lanterns a figure is leaning in the darkness of the night. The air smells of petroleum from the oil lanterns. Heavy like deep-dark, bitter-sweet and smooth suede. The outlines of the androgynous figure are dimly visible. A black tuxedo, a white shirt with bow tie, black patent leather shoes. Filigree and yet very masculine she stands there in the semi-darkness. Smoking with a glowing cigarillo between her leather gloves. A short glow of the embers with every pull on the cigarillo. Like a ghost, the sweet, tart and vanilla tobacco smoke floats out of the darkness into the light of the oil lanterns, curling like a whirlpool of time, space and infinity. Frivolous laughter can be heard through the half-open door of the artist's entrance. Inside it smells of the finest powder, warm and spicy cognac and flowery, warm and spicy clove dust. An amber-soft mating call! The band stops playing. The Tango is finished. And then it emerges from the darkness of the shadow. She is still Victoria. But soon she will be Victor again. The guests call his name with expectation. She's about to make her entrance! The blonde hair, severe and masculine, combed back with pomade. Her face pale and striking. Thin and filigree eyebrows with a delicate painted moustache over the dark red lips. And with a half smug smile, she extinguishes the cigarillo in her hand and walks step by step in the harmony of the sexes towards the half-opened door of the artist's entrance. Victor has his time now. Masculine,feminine,wicked,erotic and indescribably elegant!
Tabac Blonde
Tabac Blond is art to me. Art to me is Tabac Blonde. At the young age of twelve I already got to know Tabac Blond. My art teacher at that time wore it. And so Tabac Blonde was forever linked to art in my head. And so I heard the name Caron for the first time when I asked her what she was smelling. And even then it was very clear to me that one day I wanted to smell like that. Many years later I did that too! Tabac Blond is the perfect mixture of feminine and masculine scents. A perfume with a mysterious and infinite depth. A soft, almost petroleum-soaked leather. Surrounded by soft-smoky, light vanilla tobacco, powdery-spicy clove dust and warm, cognacious, bitter-sweet amber. A perfume with an incredible presence and proud aura, which is like a rebellion. And it probably should be once! Tabac Blond represents the harmony of the sexes at that time. It is confident, strong and proud. And it is probably rightly one of the greatest icons that Caron ever created. Smoking, infinitely beautiful emancipation!
An obscure alley. Gently rustling old and dried-out leaves carried by the wind across the cobblestone pavement. The back door of the artists' entrance to the cabaret is slightly open. The chapel is playing a quiet tango. Outside on the wall in the shadow of the oil lanterns a figure is leaning in the darkness of the night. The air smells of petroleum from the oil lanterns. Heavy like deep-dark, bitter-sweet and smooth suede. The outlines of the androgynous figure are dimly visible. A black tuxedo, a white shirt with bow tie, black patent leather shoes. Filigree and yet very masculine she stands there in the semi-darkness. Smoking with a glowing cigarillo between her leather gloves. A short glow of the embers with every pull on the cigarillo. Like a ghost, the sweet, tart and vanilla tobacco smoke floats out of the darkness into the light of the oil lanterns, curling like a whirlpool of time, space and infinity. Frivolous laughter can be heard through the half-open door of the artist's entrance. Inside it smells of the finest powder, warm and spicy cognac and flowery, warm and spicy clove dust. An amber-soft mating call! The band stops playing. The Tango is finished. And then it emerges from the darkness of the shadow. She is still Victoria. But soon she will be Victor again. The guests call his name with expectation. She's about to make her entrance! The blonde hair, severe and masculine, combed back with pomade. Her face pale and striking. Thin and filigree eyebrows with a delicate painted moustache over the dark red lips. And with a half smug smile, she extinguishes the cigarillo in her hand and walks step by step in the harmony of the sexes towards the half-opened door of the artist's entrance. Victor has his time now. Masculine,feminine,wicked,erotic and indescribably elegant!
Tabac Blonde
Tabac Blond is art to me. Art to me is Tabac Blonde. At the young age of twelve I already got to know Tabac Blond. My art teacher at that time wore it. And so Tabac Blonde was forever linked to art in my head. And so I heard the name Caron for the first time when I asked her what she was smelling. And even then it was very clear to me that one day I wanted to smell like that. Many years later I did that too! Tabac Blond is the perfect mixture of feminine and masculine scents. A perfume with a mysterious and infinite depth. A soft, almost petroleum-soaked leather. Surrounded by soft-smoky, light vanilla tobacco, powdery-spicy clove dust and warm, cognacious, bitter-sweet amber. A perfume with an incredible presence and proud aura, which is like a rebellion. And it probably should be once! Tabac Blond represents the harmony of the sexes at that time. It is confident, strong and proud. And it is probably rightly one of the greatest icons that Caron ever created. Smoking, infinitely beautiful emancipation!
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