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Notes01/02/2021
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You say yes, I say no, you say stop and I say go go go.... (The Beatles)
Hello Goodbye by the Beatles is from 1967 and A Fleur de Peau could feel like it's from that time too, from the early days of the hippie era, even though it's actually from 1999.
To recap: A Fleur de Peau unites for me all the common essential fragrance oils and a few incense sticks from the India shops of the late 70s and 80s plus iris root and makes something new out of it. Only one notable oil is missing: patchouli. Although, at the end comes maybe even a very little bit of it, but to patchouli I'm probably quite well adapted by many of my other fragrances, insofar I can also be wrong there.
But let me start at the beginning: A Fleur de Peau came to me in a swap pack. My predecessor had acquired the fragrance used in the souk and that is, there was already someone before who had also passed it on. Its previous owner, Kate130, had already warned me about the scent, thought I probably wouldn't like it, and kindly offered to pick out another scent as a substitute before sending it. But I threw caution to the wind, I wanted to try the scent. However, after the first half hour of spraying it on, I thought: this must really be a Hello Goodbye scent! I'm putting this one back in the swap game!
Why did I think that?
On the first test, A Fleur de Peau falls in with a pack of skunks with the indolic door. Help! How on earth is the gloriously lush surge of YlangYlang supposed to stand up to that? I don't know. Can I take it? I'll put that question on the back burner. First, let's explore. What is it about this strangely intense indolic note that, on the one hand, doesn't remind me of typical jasmine or citrus blossom, but neither does it remind me of honeysuckle or the other common white-flowered scents? It's as if the entire character of the florals has faded away, leaving only the indolic after, on a bass level, without the bright. But that is not all. There is more animalism. It combines with the darkly thickened white flower juice and forms a proper stench!
However, what gives me pause and keeps me from washing off A Fleur de Peau right away is incomparably beautiful YlangYlang. YlangYlang is unfortunately often confused with tuberose. I attribute this partly to the fact that both have a similar intense floral warm character and are also often combined in fragrances, but also to the nature and quality of the fragrances used. Ultimately, though, they smell distinctly different to me. I like them both, but I find YlangYlang many times more wonderful than Tuberose. Here, I find the YlangYlang extremely genuine and natural with all its inherent friendliness, bright brilliance, and lushness that I only know from the earlier natural essential oils.
This YlangYlang I want to enjoy and hope the stink factor lessens as it progresses. I already notice that it only appears weakened in the projection, there the YlangYlang has its chance to emerge. Now I can gradually detect other accords: Amber. For a long time, I've been looking for a fragrance with the amber I remember from the little essential oil bottles in the India shops of the 80s. Here, I can smell it out. And fortunately, amber is becoming rather more, while the Indolic skunks are now moderating somewhat.
The moderate skunks now contribute to an interesting impression of resins. Is there a hint of sweetish myrrh? A little honeycomb? It gets spicier and now follows a beguiling yet soothing melange of all those scents I remember from the 80s alternative scene: myrrh, amber, ylang-ylang, honey, a tiny hint of iris, an even tinier hint of frankincense, maybe the gentle impression of a bookmark of sandalwood.
I can reminisce about this for many subsequent hours. Meanwhile, A Fleur de Peau is carried warmer and warmer by sweetly woody amber and the flowers retreat.
It is very impressive to me how natural this fragrance seems to me - including the animalic - even if at the end I am struck by the thought that the woody could also be a very subtly used opoponax supported quantern of cashmeran. At the end there is also some vanilla.
A Fleur de Peau compensates me for the borderline initial phase in the course many times over.
Surprise On the second and third test, the opening seems far more innocuous to me. Have I been adapted yet? After all, I'm tempted to say that you can't adapt to something so drastic, at least I can't adapt to something so drastic, so quickly. Interestingly, my husband doesn't make any more horrified comments on day two and three either. I have a suspicion: the riser tube has emptied and resinous residues that had settled in it and on the spray head inside, have been sprayed out with the first test, while the second and third test the perfume comes out unadulterated.
Of course, I still smell the stinker undertone, but it is now a bit more subtle and I now also recognize resinous iris root in it, which I always call car tire iris in this expression for me. In projection and dilution, it becomes a gorgeous iris note that seems a bit leathery. I also now smell distinct and intense dark jasmine associated with my car tire iris. Since these notes are now still drastically indolic-resinous-oily but less somberly condensed, it really seems residue in the riser tube/spray head was part of my extreme experience when I first tested it. Nothing has changed in the later course. I really begin to find great pleasure in A Fleur de Peau!
Apart from the first maybe 20 minutes, A Fleur de Peau is a soft, warm, very natural-smelling fragrance with ylang-ylang, jasmine, iris, slightly woody amber, honeycomb with hints of opoponax, myrrh and sandalwood, tobacco and leather.As it progresses, it gradually becomes less floral and more and more sweet amber and vanillic wax.
It has now become very rare that I really like to inhale a fragrance deeply, without the impression that it may be harmful for me. This one, however, I can enjoy in full breaths unrestricted!
Thank you Kate130 for the lovely swap package, and I'm glad as hell to have embarked on this adventurous time-travel mecheri despite her warning.
I will happily keep A Fleur de Peau.
You say goodbye and I say hello,
hello, hello....
To recap: A Fleur de Peau unites for me all the common essential fragrance oils and a few incense sticks from the India shops of the late 70s and 80s plus iris root and makes something new out of it. Only one notable oil is missing: patchouli. Although, at the end comes maybe even a very little bit of it, but to patchouli I'm probably quite well adapted by many of my other fragrances, insofar I can also be wrong there.
But let me start at the beginning: A Fleur de Peau came to me in a swap pack. My predecessor had acquired the fragrance used in the souk and that is, there was already someone before who had also passed it on. Its previous owner, Kate130, had already warned me about the scent, thought I probably wouldn't like it, and kindly offered to pick out another scent as a substitute before sending it. But I threw caution to the wind, I wanted to try the scent. However, after the first half hour of spraying it on, I thought: this must really be a Hello Goodbye scent! I'm putting this one back in the swap game!
Why did I think that?
On the first test, A Fleur de Peau falls in with a pack of skunks with the indolic door. Help! How on earth is the gloriously lush surge of YlangYlang supposed to stand up to that? I don't know. Can I take it? I'll put that question on the back burner. First, let's explore. What is it about this strangely intense indolic note that, on the one hand, doesn't remind me of typical jasmine or citrus blossom, but neither does it remind me of honeysuckle or the other common white-flowered scents? It's as if the entire character of the florals has faded away, leaving only the indolic after, on a bass level, without the bright. But that is not all. There is more animalism. It combines with the darkly thickened white flower juice and forms a proper stench!
However, what gives me pause and keeps me from washing off A Fleur de Peau right away is incomparably beautiful YlangYlang. YlangYlang is unfortunately often confused with tuberose. I attribute this partly to the fact that both have a similar intense floral warm character and are also often combined in fragrances, but also to the nature and quality of the fragrances used. Ultimately, though, they smell distinctly different to me. I like them both, but I find YlangYlang many times more wonderful than Tuberose. Here, I find the YlangYlang extremely genuine and natural with all its inherent friendliness, bright brilliance, and lushness that I only know from the earlier natural essential oils.
This YlangYlang I want to enjoy and hope the stink factor lessens as it progresses. I already notice that it only appears weakened in the projection, there the YlangYlang has its chance to emerge. Now I can gradually detect other accords: Amber. For a long time, I've been looking for a fragrance with the amber I remember from the little essential oil bottles in the India shops of the 80s. Here, I can smell it out. And fortunately, amber is becoming rather more, while the Indolic skunks are now moderating somewhat.
The moderate skunks now contribute to an interesting impression of resins. Is there a hint of sweetish myrrh? A little honeycomb? It gets spicier and now follows a beguiling yet soothing melange of all those scents I remember from the 80s alternative scene: myrrh, amber, ylang-ylang, honey, a tiny hint of iris, an even tinier hint of frankincense, maybe the gentle impression of a bookmark of sandalwood.
I can reminisce about this for many subsequent hours. Meanwhile, A Fleur de Peau is carried warmer and warmer by sweetly woody amber and the flowers retreat.
It is very impressive to me how natural this fragrance seems to me - including the animalic - even if at the end I am struck by the thought that the woody could also be a very subtly used opoponax supported quantern of cashmeran. At the end there is also some vanilla.
A Fleur de Peau compensates me for the borderline initial phase in the course many times over.
Surprise On the second and third test, the opening seems far more innocuous to me. Have I been adapted yet? After all, I'm tempted to say that you can't adapt to something so drastic, at least I can't adapt to something so drastic, so quickly. Interestingly, my husband doesn't make any more horrified comments on day two and three either. I have a suspicion: the riser tube has emptied and resinous residues that had settled in it and on the spray head inside, have been sprayed out with the first test, while the second and third test the perfume comes out unadulterated.
Of course, I still smell the stinker undertone, but it is now a bit more subtle and I now also recognize resinous iris root in it, which I always call car tire iris in this expression for me. In projection and dilution, it becomes a gorgeous iris note that seems a bit leathery. I also now smell distinct and intense dark jasmine associated with my car tire iris. Since these notes are now still drastically indolic-resinous-oily but less somberly condensed, it really seems residue in the riser tube/spray head was part of my extreme experience when I first tested it. Nothing has changed in the later course. I really begin to find great pleasure in A Fleur de Peau!
Apart from the first maybe 20 minutes, A Fleur de Peau is a soft, warm, very natural-smelling fragrance with ylang-ylang, jasmine, iris, slightly woody amber, honeycomb with hints of opoponax, myrrh and sandalwood, tobacco and leather.As it progresses, it gradually becomes less floral and more and more sweet amber and vanillic wax.
It has now become very rare that I really like to inhale a fragrance deeply, without the impression that it may be harmful for me. This one, however, I can enjoy in full breaths unrestricted!
Thank you Kate130 for the lovely swap package, and I'm glad as hell to have embarked on this adventurous time-travel mecheri despite her warning.
I will happily keep A Fleur de Peau.
You say goodbye and I say hello,
hello, hello....
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