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The smallest evil....
...that was the base where Chance Eau Tendre came to me. After a long period of abstinence from fragrances, I finally wanted a perfume that would make me feel good all around. Not too sweet, not too heavy, not too girlish, but fresh, flowery, but nevertheless not confusing. Sometimes I can get a bit single-tracked when I put something in my head, and so I literally tried dozens of fragrances in the coming weeks (!). On the strip, on the skin, sometimes both, sometimes three on one arm... So exactly the way you shouldn't do it. But you know, when despair seizes you, you can get a little neurotic - at least me. At some point I literally had had enough and I decided to simply buy a fragrance to put an end to the tragedy. I had Eau Tendre on my skin three times before - and I marched straight to one of my favourite perfumeries to buy the smallest bottle. I wasn't 100 percent sure and 30 ml are not too much. In my perfumery I did not meet the unbelievably nice, knowledgeable and patient young lady, but two young men, brand Hipster. My wish for "Chance Eau Tendre" was commented with "Well, if you really want something of high quality, then you should go in the direction of natural fragrances. At Chanel you pay the name, but the perfumes are simply stirred together in huge stainless steel tanks...." Zack, slap in the face. Politely I had another (supposedly natural - and of course even more expensive) scent sprayed on my hand, but it didn't let me spontaneously break into hymns of praise: And I left with Chance Eau Tendre. In the next weeks I used it again and again, found it good, but not particularly exciting. Until the temperatures rose - and every time I left the house I was accompanied by a wonderfully fresh, harmonious, delicate but clearly perceptible little cloud. Apparently Chance Eau Tendre needs slightly higher temperatures on my skin in order to show off perfectly. It starts with a fresh citrus top note. For me it doesn't smell clearly like grapefruit (here my standard of comparison is always from Hermes: Eau de Pamplemousse Rose), but more delicate, less bitter. I imagine myself smelling quince, but again fresher and a little more bitter than I have stored quince juice as a smell. Flowers are spreading underneath: I can smell jasmine and iris, the hyacinths actually not (hyacinths in closed rooms belong to the worst of all for me, just like lilies of the valley or huge lilac bouquets). But the flower scent is very sweet (not sweet!) - maybe this is due to the hyacinth. Over the next few hours, the fragrance transforms into a creamy, fresh, flowery layer of fragrance that can be smelled up close and is wonderful. After some time I almost don't notice the scent anymore (except I sprayed it into my hair in the morning and fan the scent air to myself). But: It's the scent that colleagues and friends keep telling me about! Meanwhile the 30 ml are almost used up and Chance Eau Tendre is the very first fragrance on the "Absolutely buy again" list.
One more word on the subject of "natural" and "steel tank" versus the romantic image of scent noses that lovingly taste extracts of precious fragrances in back rooms.
I'm sorry that I (as a prevented chemist) can't really believe that. I am convinced that the creeds, Etros and Atkinsons of this world - which my hipsters have praised as being of unequally high quality and "natural" - are always a mixture. And I don't think it's bad at all. What I find bad, however, is when I am suggested something is wrong with me, my taste and my nose, because I find Chance Eau Tendre from the stainless steel tank wonderful, but "Love in White" from Creed smells for me unfortunately after the contents of wet diapers.
Well, dear people, that had to be said!