Adelina

I am wearing that yellow dress again. You know it, the one you gave to me. You've said that it has the lively color of the ylang ylang flowers. I adorned my fingers with the pear ring and I am wearring your favourite earrings in my ears. At my neck I wear Cruel Gardenia. And I've added a bit to my wrists.
I want it to invade your senses when you will take me in your arms. I wish that when you walk your fingers over my shoulders ,absenlty drawing symbols of tenderness, the smell of blooming gardenias to reach your soul. Do you remember when you said to me that my skin always smells like musk? Do you like how it combines with the fragrance I am wearing? Are you anxious to hide your face in my sandalwood perfumed curls? This ingenue fragrance makes you dizzy, isn't it? Are you afraid to let yourself spoiled by your senses? Don't worry, I'm here. And I will take your hands and keep them at my chest until you regain ballance. It's just the two of us now, and Cruel Gardenia glazes at us, hidden in the hollow on my neck. Come, come into my world now.

She sat in front of the easel and looked lovingly at the white paper. She already imagines what the painting would look at the end and even though it is not her first one , she is sure that she will love it the most.

The paper is already wet , ready to absorb the emotions and colors. Her hand draws the first delicate touch of color: purple specks come alive on the paper and then metamorphoses in small and delicate lilac flowers.

The woman smiles looking at the flowers and she almost senses their fresh, crisp smell that brings happiness. Softens her brush in color, and among the lilac flowers, she starts painting a sweet heliotrope flower. This time, the touches of color are more vivid , you get lost in their depth. If you close your eyes, you can feel their warm and powdery aroma. Yes! This is definitely how memories smell - a blend of space and time, over which the fine powder melancholy sat quietly, protective.

There is still something missing... Hmmm... What could it be? Ah, yes! She is now running her soft brush in the moste candid shade of white, the same as gardenia petals. The woman touches the moist paper with such emotion that the creamy smell of flowers, along with a piece of her soul emerges near lilac and heliotrope flowers, perfecting the painting.

The white Sun throws its white rays over the humid watercolor painting, gilding the floral bouquet with a silver glow. The flowers are frozen in time and as their petals colors combine harmoniously, their scent becomes palpable, filling the room, blending with the tranquility of winter days.

Chapeau Mr Andy Tauer ! I am amazed more and more with every fragrance that I have tested from the Tauer line.
L' Air du Desert Marocain is sublime . It is not the kind of poetic and romantic fragrance . It's more than that . Surrounds you when you are not expecting , shows its notes one by one, spices at the beginning, then amber in all its splendor . I haven't found a more beautiful and soft amber in any other perfume.
L' Air du Desert Marocain is a story told at sunset. A story about am Arab woman clothed in veils wich have the colors of the past. You never know if she hides a smile, or her lips remain motionless , numb . Her mystery makes you want to come closer, hug and carrees her, while she is leaving on your arms the flavor of coriander and cumin to penetrate your soul. You take her hand and simply watch how your skin blends with her skin, wich has the color of amber.
" Only where the woman is wearing a veil you'll have the burning desire to read her face. "
quote from Antoine de Saint- Exupery

As a child, with my parents, I went in glades around Tople? village to enjoy the fresh air and the beauty of nature.
I remember a special moment when we reached a glade with grass woven with threads of violets. Life simply flowed through that lawn, I could feel it. We lay there, on the meadow, all three of us and looked up to the sky, enjoying the sweet scent floating around us. The smell of the moist ground, because there, in my village the soil is never completely dry, as if it will always hold hands with the rain, never letting her go. This smell merged with the feeble flowers. The piece of blue sky that we saw there was the canvas on which we painted our happiness.
This is how Apres L'Ondee smells to me: delicate violets mixed with joy, untainted by the surrounding world.

Apres L'Ondee is the fragrance that will make you love the rain, even if you do it just to enjoy the wonders that arise after its passing.

How would you describe a classic? Antonia is a true timeless beauty. Let me picture this for you:

In a luminous day of summer, you get to visit your aunt in England, somewhere in Devon. You haven't seen her in a while, but you kept her memory in your heart, because she is your favourite.
As you arrive near her house, you can feel the smell of crisp grass blended with a hint of english roses. Ah, what a delight!
There it is! The beautiful manor she lives in, with her precious cats. The house is covered with ivy, the plant embraces the grey walls creating a familiar and loved memory, protecting the manor against the whole world. You used to love the slightly bitter and sharp smell that was entering the house as you opened the windows.
And now, there you are, in front of the wooden door. You knock twice and the housekeeper welcomes you. You make a few steps, and then you see your aunt, her aristocratic figure - she is still the same, with her black pearls necklace and green cashmere blouse. She welcomes you with a candid smile, while her hands arrange a vase full of Jasmin flowers. Her beige nails blend beautifuly with the flowers. Then, with a slow hand gesture, she tels you: sit down, dear. I have prepared your favourite cup of tea, vanilla and dreams. Imortality I call it. We have plenty.