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Notes11/17/2019
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Meggi
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Meggi
Greatly helpful Review 32
The Heroines of the Night
Mild citrus fruit opened, rather our sour orange than anything else. And pineapple, canned. Cocoa patchouli is added almost immediately. A dash of caramel is included, as well as (I think #1) vanilla. This is a good prelude, in the overall picture Christmassy, perhaps breathed. The (I think #2) general laboratory fruit in the underground I ignore.
But suddenly there it is, a musty sting, first directly on the skin. Unfortunately he doesn't stay there - a colleague mumbled something about "Smells like old man...". This will pass, but hardly make room for anything better: Within an hour the elderly knight gets one covered with a rag.
Then an unbalanced mixture of budding cinnamon-sweetamber-sweet with tonka-esque vanilla ambitions and said mouldy-clean-lobed stinginess spreads out. The creaky patchouli, more reminiscent of dark wood than of earth, is not strong enough to turn the two contrary aromas into satellites of its own, but is simply suffocated. This doesn't change, either, when after about two hours there is even an approach of suede leather in the field.
I already know that the engraving or the old feudel might also be based on Patchouli, but here it actually shows two separate faces at the same time. And the stuffy cleaning rag is extremely penetrating. She accompanies me so persistently through the day that my desire to trace the details further fades.
"A fragrance for modern heroes and heroines" is what the supplier says on the page. I'll sign this. They are the true heroes - and mostly heroines! - of our time, who beat the night around the ears so that armchair pupils like you and me have it pretty clean the next day.
Today Ciro has set an involuntary monument to all of them.
It just should have been a better scent, that would have been appropriate.
But suddenly there it is, a musty sting, first directly on the skin. Unfortunately he doesn't stay there - a colleague mumbled something about "Smells like old man...". This will pass, but hardly make room for anything better: Within an hour the elderly knight gets one covered with a rag.
Then an unbalanced mixture of budding cinnamon-sweetamber-sweet with tonka-esque vanilla ambitions and said mouldy-clean-lobed stinginess spreads out. The creaky patchouli, more reminiscent of dark wood than of earth, is not strong enough to turn the two contrary aromas into satellites of its own, but is simply suffocated. This doesn't change, either, when after about two hours there is even an approach of suede leather in the field.
I already know that the engraving or the old feudel might also be based on Patchouli, but here it actually shows two separate faces at the same time. And the stuffy cleaning rag is extremely penetrating. She accompanies me so persistently through the day that my desire to trace the details further fades.
"A fragrance for modern heroes and heroines" is what the supplier says on the page. I'll sign this. They are the true heroes - and mostly heroines! - of our time, who beat the night around the ears so that armchair pupils like you and me have it pretty clean the next day.
Today Ciro has set an involuntary monument to all of them.
It just should have been a better scent, that would have been appropriate.
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