10/19/2023
Jingle
7 Reviews
Translated
Show original
Jingle
6
One leg in the nest, one on the branch
I was curious about Bois Datchaï because I have discovered a new love for fruit in me; fitting for the season I test autumnal fruits. Wood always goes anyway, plus my quest to find the most beautiful black currant, in perfume of course. Likewise, once again a desire for black tea, but not too pure. And as a perfume, of course. Let's go!
Top note: Campino candies, the dark ones, you know which ones - the first to be gone from the bag. And they're unsweet in aroma, so don't worry about sticky associations. Lots of green comes with it from the bush. As is often the case with currants, I can't help a little sour cucumber association (My quirk? Sour cucumbers and currant jam are in the cellar next to each other). Bits of pickles do not disturb here but further. Cinnamon also gives directly wonderful warmth, but quite unweihnachtlich.
Clearly smoky, in the manner of extinguished candle wick. Cozy like afternoons as a teenager alone in the nursery, the pocket money was enough for a scented candle, and that is a special feature at this age, as everything seems special and unique: the isolation, being misunderstood, the first skills to deal with it, which one develops at that age (essential oils, lookin' at you).
The scent is comforting; currant is certainly not just a familiar-domestic note for me. Many have them in the garden, grandma still a jar in the pantry, on the pancakes as a child there's a thick dark blob - who this makes secure feelings, you may want to test the fragrance times.
The feeling that often accompanies teenage years, actually have no appointments in the future, the class work is over, the coming months empty and you have time, so much time. One of the first CDs, The Cranberries, "No Need to Argue" purrs in the compact CD player to immediately give "Ode to My Family" to the best, cheesy novels from the small-town bookstore give so no preview of real life, leather cords knotted around the wrist, which should mean something important, a diary with a small lock. Here I am in the top note of the fragrance; don't get confused, the scent is not from the 90s, but to each his teenage years, right? Belatedly finding sweetness, belatedly wanting to be taken in my arms - these are the vibes Bois Datchaï gives me. A shy "Hi ..." to the inner teenager, of course, without eye contact.
I was going to write that the patchouli seems restrained, but I smell a note that reminds me of Keller, it will be. Again: does not interfere, but I would not need so. Maybe it's needed for some depth - luckily it doesn't stay in the cellar. Youth room, as I said. The black tea here does not remind me of the smell of Vaseline, it is quite discreet, more discreet still the leather - for me not really to make out.
I would locate Bois Datchaï in a home, more precisely, in a room to smell it alone. It's also not particularly strong and a rather brief pleasure. Bois Datchaï lends itself to fantasizing about being in a forest like Max in wolf costume in Where the Wild Things Are, perhaps as I did with Enchanted Forest, with which it shares currant, cedar, some patchouli (but the latter is much darker, more wintry, more fairytale-like). I'm not in a distant forest here, not really.
If the fragrance were a posture, then sitting with legs drawn up. Staring into the candle flame while sitting. A not-yet-knowing-where, with one foot in bird's nest, with the other standing on the branch - how nice it is when you don't have to leave and can feel the transition without fear. And transition also = autumn, to make the bow little elegantly.
Top note: Campino candies, the dark ones, you know which ones - the first to be gone from the bag. And they're unsweet in aroma, so don't worry about sticky associations. Lots of green comes with it from the bush. As is often the case with currants, I can't help a little sour cucumber association (My quirk? Sour cucumbers and currant jam are in the cellar next to each other). Bits of pickles do not disturb here but further. Cinnamon also gives directly wonderful warmth, but quite unweihnachtlich.
Clearly smoky, in the manner of extinguished candle wick. Cozy like afternoons as a teenager alone in the nursery, the pocket money was enough for a scented candle, and that is a special feature at this age, as everything seems special and unique: the isolation, being misunderstood, the first skills to deal with it, which one develops at that age (essential oils, lookin' at you).
The scent is comforting; currant is certainly not just a familiar-domestic note for me. Many have them in the garden, grandma still a jar in the pantry, on the pancakes as a child there's a thick dark blob - who this makes secure feelings, you may want to test the fragrance times.
The feeling that often accompanies teenage years, actually have no appointments in the future, the class work is over, the coming months empty and you have time, so much time. One of the first CDs, The Cranberries, "No Need to Argue" purrs in the compact CD player to immediately give "Ode to My Family" to the best, cheesy novels from the small-town bookstore give so no preview of real life, leather cords knotted around the wrist, which should mean something important, a diary with a small lock. Here I am in the top note of the fragrance; don't get confused, the scent is not from the 90s, but to each his teenage years, right? Belatedly finding sweetness, belatedly wanting to be taken in my arms - these are the vibes Bois Datchaï gives me. A shy "Hi ..." to the inner teenager, of course, without eye contact.
I was going to write that the patchouli seems restrained, but I smell a note that reminds me of Keller, it will be. Again: does not interfere, but I would not need so. Maybe it's needed for some depth - luckily it doesn't stay in the cellar. Youth room, as I said. The black tea here does not remind me of the smell of Vaseline, it is quite discreet, more discreet still the leather - for me not really to make out.
I would locate Bois Datchaï in a home, more precisely, in a room to smell it alone. It's also not particularly strong and a rather brief pleasure. Bois Datchaï lends itself to fantasizing about being in a forest like Max in wolf costume in Where the Wild Things Are, perhaps as I did with Enchanted Forest, with which it shares currant, cedar, some patchouli (but the latter is much darker, more wintry, more fairytale-like). I'm not in a distant forest here, not really.
If the fragrance were a posture, then sitting with legs drawn up. Staring into the candle flame while sitting. A not-yet-knowing-where, with one foot in bird's nest, with the other standing on the branch - how nice it is when you don't have to leave and can feel the transition without fear. And transition also = autumn, to make the bow little elegantly.
3 Comments
NicheOnly
