Jersey, a bone of contention between Great Britain and French-Britain.
Due to its location on the mild Gulf Stream of the English Channel, it is atypically sunny here, lush vegetation thrives magnificently and light-shy tax rates are kept low.
The fragrance of the same name is also a bone of contention. One person's elation is another's mediocre listlessness.
The former dislikes criticism.
Justified, certainly.
But the anonymous uses the discreet silencing of disturbing fragrance sensations, so that only songs of praise of green synthetics characterize the picture.
Well, true Bretons are considered to be rebellious and sometimes defend their point of view unceremoniously.
I'd rather fortify myself with a tasty Far Breton to put the balmy breeze of the Channel Island in perspective.
Les Exclusifs by Chanel were real eye-catchers in the original EdT versions from 2007, Jersey was added in 2011.
For whatever reason, the displaced EdP version had to take over the island from 2016 onwards.
Enough of the prehistory, tea is served!
Hiss!
Boy, it's getting deep green here.
Jersey isn't just for burials at sea either, landlubbers can also find their final resting place amidst "ivy".
Well, the living can play hide and seek in the boxwood maze, or rather creep each other out in the tuja maze.
Like father, like son.
Polge Junior colors Scotland's capital similarly morbid green. however,
Paris - Édimbourg is consistently thematic, while Papa Polge is building a Victorian theme park on the Channel Island.
As soon as the green note gently whispers in my ear that I should order my coffin in advance, a lively lavender comes along and slaps me awake from my morbid sleep.
Waddle, waddle!
Together with the jasmine, the two flowers exude a rigid attitude that makes even concrete walls seem as soft as butter.
Goodness gracious, the island is not directly under the crown for nothing!
So, let's tease the tea drinkers: in the Dépendance de la Couronne, you should go down deep into the cellar to laugh. Preferably without a lamp and with enough bile so as not to disturb the moral isopods.
What kind of chord is that?
Between the acidic death green, the rigid lavender in the tradition of a Yardley house and the Rottweiler jasmine, your own breathing almost sounds like a bomb in the catacomb!
Best to keep quiet, because even the slightest clink of the china cup could bring down the Wegdwood dynasty!
So, insularly, of course, something sweet is served in the oh so joyful tea round.
Just don't make any barbaric hand movements, the funny rose in the vase could look even weirder!
You shouldn't wake sleeping dogs...
A brief reminder of the Far Breton, which served as the model for the English Plum Pudding.
And something like this Anglican is now served, but with a tonka bean filling instead of plum.
The oh-so-refreshingly delicious something should be choked down stoically, but with class.
The first lavender bead of sweat rolls down your temple.
Plop, Boppesbombe in the middle of the teacup!
(I know, you're probably not allowed to say ass, so a softer expression with local color.)
The milk curdles instantly, but you shouldn't let on.
The rose in the vase has of course not missed the faux pas and is getting really funny, the twisted look doesn't bode well.
So a quick After Eight in the noblewoman's mouth, the chocolate mint should save the mood for a few moments.
(Chocolate patchouli with a little menthol should also be used here.)
It is not appropriate to address inappropriate topics.
Pleasant remarks about the neatly trimmed lawn, praising the indentation of an Oscar Wilde in his day, the pleasurable dissection of failed dress codes on the last Sunday in church are permitted.
And now the true Victorian proves himself! Because keeping your composure and wit in the face of all these thumbscrews is nothing short of a miracle!
A synthetic, dark note throbs very gently from the base, slightly woody and ambery for those in the know. But only a hint of it.
Pretext enough to say goodbye in good time.
But, oh what a miracle, a drizzle of vanilla will accompany the tormented guest over hill and dale.
And while they smile ironically in Jersey, the Bretons on the other side of the Channel enjoy very tasty moments.
So long Jersey!
Before I forget, I recommend the life-affirming song by Morrissey "Everyday is like Sunday" to musically illustrate the scent of the island's coastline.
Enjoy!
Kurai
