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Jingle
Very helpful Review
12
Paddington Bear's first choice
In the prelude really one to one British bitter orange marmalade - how delicious! And then it already becomes Christmassy, I think of candied orange peel, the peeling of tangerines and a candle in which I express the peels. Even the audible rharbarber, the neroli do not dissuade me from this first impression. Well, for me as an Alman oranges are of course southern fruits for the cold season and I have never seen an orange growing on a tree. For Californians, for example, the fragrance may seem quite different.
The green in the perfume, and I mean not only the honeysuckle, but here also times the rhubarb, comes across cypress-like. That may also be the ethereal, the cypress has in common with orange peel, I mean this intensely oily, volatile quality.
Citrus scents are said to have a mood-lifting effect. And yes, it works here! Whether it's the sophisticated breakfast (jam is a treat!), the Sunday special with toast rack, Advent with dim lights and with early twilight as a young child, or the imaginings/memories of a southern country, of summer.
I can smell artificial notes on the fragrance only insofar as it is the treated, candied orange. Not a naturalistic orange, but the one that is considered a delicacy. But not Capri ice cream, but what much older, the Spanish fruit house in Munich.
Cleaner, glue I do not perceive, and I say that as the owner of a (incidentally terrific) orange oil cleaner. And there I come back again to the element mentioned above "ethereal" and which I can only know insistently for lack of better knowledge; surely a chemical property.
As the fragrance progresses it shows the neroli more clearly, I also feel briefly reminded of Hermes' Jour, only better, without the rubber, hehe. The associated cypress turns into the heavenly scent of printed matter (subtle, don't expect a print shop).
It's totally fascinating to me that my scent impression is so different from the previous ones here: Sundrunk is more contemplative than effervescent for me, but still appropriate for a summer night party. It is the most bitter Orangina you have ever drunk. The sun is beating down on your shoulders. A precious candied orange slice for potato-and-kale eaters, in the 19th century. It shines its orange light into a dark living room and warms like a fireplace. Sundrunk is the unbridled bite into an orange, through the peel, through the white, until the juice swells into your mouth like a hot kiss at night in a lush Florida garden.
For me, it's an either-or scent: high summer or Advent. For both seasons, however, an asset, "makes your eyes light up," to stay linguistically in the Christmas world.
Meadhbh
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