09/15/2023
Marieposa
33 Reviews
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Marieposa
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Hades and Persephone
Behind the threads of incense rising from your black robes, I can see your hand slowly clenching into a fist because you don't dare hold it out. Concentrating, your gaze shifts between me and the feast on the table: dates, almonds, the finest spices and candied orange peel. You have brought them all. For me. To lay before my bare feet all the riches your dark kingdom has to offer.
I let the bells on my ankle sing softly. Search your longing eyes.
I know that I may taste everything that is now on your table and yet I still have the choice to return. Just not the pomegranate seeds. They sparkle temptingly like rubies as I follow your gaze to their dark, shimmering skin. I know your desire for my sun-warmed vanilla skin, the island wind in my hair. I can feel your heart beating.
I let the silver bells ring once more before the first sparkling red pearl disappears between my lips.
They called me Kore, the innocent girl. But now I am Persephone.
**
When I sprayed Aziyadé on for the first time, the scent really irritated me. I had very strong Haribo associations for about a quarter of an hour. Well ... sweet fragrances are not my world and just as I was about to put a stop to this experience, I noticed that my nose kept going back to my wrist. After a while, subtle spices come into play. I perceive shimmering cardamom and slightly sweet and spicy dried ginger, with a few fine threads of incense floating in between, but above all cumin. Lots of cumin! Anyone who associates this spice with sweaty notes will probably not be happy with Aziyadé. Fortunately, I don't have that problem and am pleasantly surprised, especially because the gummy bear scent slowly differentiates itself: Under the delicately shimmering veil of spices, sweet dates and dried plums meet blanched almonds and are balanced by tart pomegranate and slightly bitter orange peel in such a way that the fragrance has no chance of becoming sticky.
If you like Serge Lutens Arabie, you might also be happy with Aziyadé. However, I myself am not part of the Arabie fan club and yet Aziyadé casts a spell over me. Why is that? It's all far too sweet and edible for me!
Aziyadé is light, delicate and as transparent as the sound of a silver bell. That's what sets it apart from its famous sister, who I remember as quite a stunner. Yes, that must be it. I keep catching myself sniffing after my own veil of fragrance and checking in my head whether I have all the ingredients for a tajine in the house. But even in this form, the fruity-sweet spice magic from 1001 Nights should get on my nerves at a certain point. But Aziyadé has an ace up its sleeve for this case too: Even before I can get cranky, a stunningly beautiful musk reminiscent of warm summer skin combines with the cumin-heavy spices, while at the same time the incense darkens and the fruity notes move aside a little for some dirty, leathery labdanum and unsweet, dry vanilla.
Yes, this is really no longer a nice, innocent fruit salad with an oriental touch. Aziyadé remains light and transparent throughout, but acquires a very human, lively component and an exciting contrast, a yang to its yin, and an unexpected multi-faceted depth.
All right, so I can really get excited about fragrances with sweet gourmand aspects. Aziyadé, you have enchanted me!
I let the bells on my ankle sing softly. Search your longing eyes.
I know that I may taste everything that is now on your table and yet I still have the choice to return. Just not the pomegranate seeds. They sparkle temptingly like rubies as I follow your gaze to their dark, shimmering skin. I know your desire for my sun-warmed vanilla skin, the island wind in my hair. I can feel your heart beating.
I let the silver bells ring once more before the first sparkling red pearl disappears between my lips.
They called me Kore, the innocent girl. But now I am Persephone.
**
When I sprayed Aziyadé on for the first time, the scent really irritated me. I had very strong Haribo associations for about a quarter of an hour. Well ... sweet fragrances are not my world and just as I was about to put a stop to this experience, I noticed that my nose kept going back to my wrist. After a while, subtle spices come into play. I perceive shimmering cardamom and slightly sweet and spicy dried ginger, with a few fine threads of incense floating in between, but above all cumin. Lots of cumin! Anyone who associates this spice with sweaty notes will probably not be happy with Aziyadé. Fortunately, I don't have that problem and am pleasantly surprised, especially because the gummy bear scent slowly differentiates itself: Under the delicately shimmering veil of spices, sweet dates and dried plums meet blanched almonds and are balanced by tart pomegranate and slightly bitter orange peel in such a way that the fragrance has no chance of becoming sticky.
If you like Serge Lutens Arabie, you might also be happy with Aziyadé. However, I myself am not part of the Arabie fan club and yet Aziyadé casts a spell over me. Why is that? It's all far too sweet and edible for me!
Aziyadé is light, delicate and as transparent as the sound of a silver bell. That's what sets it apart from its famous sister, who I remember as quite a stunner. Yes, that must be it. I keep catching myself sniffing after my own veil of fragrance and checking in my head whether I have all the ingredients for a tajine in the house. But even in this form, the fruity-sweet spice magic from 1001 Nights should get on my nerves at a certain point. But Aziyadé has an ace up its sleeve for this case too: Even before I can get cranky, a stunningly beautiful musk reminiscent of warm summer skin combines with the cumin-heavy spices, while at the same time the incense darkens and the fruity notes move aside a little for some dirty, leathery labdanum and unsweet, dry vanilla.
Yes, this is really no longer a nice, innocent fruit salad with an oriental touch. Aziyadé remains light and transparent throughout, but acquires a very human, lively component and an exciting contrast, a yang to its yin, and an unexpected multi-faceted depth.
All right, so I can really get excited about fragrances with sweet gourmand aspects. Aziyadé, you have enchanted me!
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