Painfully sweet primary school reminescence
Finding that Vers Le Jour is now listed in the database I sprayed it on to study how the fragrance develops.
The top note is a mixture of an indefineable fruitiness and pencil - cedarwood that is.
Ananas peeks from the fruit basket and I recognize melon as well. The flowers listed are still containing themselves loftily, allowing the fruits to dominate the scene.
Angelica root holding back as well suits me fine, as it has a tendency to turn into a rather unpleasant smell of celery. Cedar is still going strong and the juice as a whole reminds me of the smell of my old primary school: Children. Children exude a specific sweet smell, which I detect in this perfume.
In the meantime I discovered a lonely little flower - a rose. Just one. And that's a sickly one.
Right, I don't know whether that's just a coincidence, but I get an itch on the spot where I applied Vers Le Jour. And my temples start to throb. The fragrance develops a buzzing sweet point that disagreeably stings my nose. In addition there's still ananas, children, cedar, a certain creaminess I'd attribute to musk. Osmanthus? Yes, could be - I used to have teabags flavoured with osmanthus, that could be a part of the unpleasant point. The teabags smelled great as long as I sniffed them only briefly. And just the dry bags, the tea in the cup didn't have any of the sweet fragrance.
I'm not quite sure whether I should follow Vers Le Jour sacrificially to its drydown or whether I should declare this eau de toilette unwearable for me and consequentially wash it off thoroughly. But as my headache becomes stronger and my stomach starts to protest as well, I'll abstain from valour for the sake of science and go have a scrub. And an aspirine.