Fabistinkt

Mrs. Danvers: You don't need to sneak around here. Why didn't you say you wanted to see Mrs. De Winter's bedroom? I'll be happy to show you whenever you wish. Come along This morning I put her slippers in front of the bed, as she always liked. I do that every day, as if she were still here.
This is where I dressed her in the morning. "Dannie," she used to say, "I trust your taste completely. Whatever you choose for me, it will be the right thing". She trusted me blindly. And I held her in high esteem. Everyone appreciated Mrs. De Winter. She was the most interesting and beautiful woman imaginable. No one will ever replace her, not even you.

Mrs. De Winter II: Oh, I would like that too -

Mrs. Danvers: And look, this is where I did her hair every day. She sat at the dressing table - sit down - and I brushed her hair. Just like that. - Why don't you stay seated? - Many times. It was long and brunette. Mr. De Winter was crazy about her hair.
When I had finished doing her hair, she asked for her perfume. Mr. De Winter had brought it for her from Monte Carlo. See all those little stars on the bottle? They reminded him of her eyes, said Mr. De Winter.
Mrs. De Winter loved the perfume very much. "Take good care of it, Dannie!" she always said, "it's of incredible value to me!". Of course, I was terribly careful with it, so nothing happened to it.
Would you like to try it? I'll dab it on for you.

Mrs. De Winter II: Oh no, thank you, that won't be necessary -

Mrs. Danvers: I took the lid and dabbed it on her neck, just like that. Now show me your hands! I put the lid back on the bottle and dabbed a few droplets on her wrists. You never wear perfume, do you? Rub your wrists together gently, that's what Mrs. De Winter always did. She loved the scent. "Dannie, you know what?" she sometimes said, "The tangy scent reminds me of our beautiful coast off Manderley. Don't you agree?". I thought it was sweet. Can you smell the carnations, the roses and the iris?

Mrs. De Winter II: I -

Mrs. Danvers: Of course not, your nose is certainly not fine enough. It smelled sensational on Mrs. De Winter. Everyone loved the powdery veil of scent she trailed around the house. You could always smell where Mrs. De Winter had last been. Mr. De Winter sometimes followed her scent trail through Manderley. He could never get enough of it. Look here, the scent is called "Je Reviens". Do you know what that means?

Mrs. De Winter II: My French is a bit rusty, but I think it -

Mrs. Danvers: I'll return. A meaningful name, don't you think? I'm sure Mrs. De Winter is still in the house. I feel her presence every day. She's not happy. She never liked it when someone tried to take her husband away from her. She could be vindictive. She's not going to take it lying down. Do you feel comfortable in Manderley?

Mrs. De Winter II: I must leave this room!

She accidentally touches the bottle. It falls to the floor as if in slow motion.

Diorama is an unplanned addition to my collection, suddenly it was there. We met in Damstraat in Amsterdam, in the middle of a crowd of noisy tourists. It was the beginning of September with unsettled weather. First it bucketed down like mad, then the sun flashed out from behind the clouds, just to give way to the rain again an hour later. During a long shower I fled from the swells of water and vacationers into a small perfumery.
It was a strange experience for two reasons. First: I had already seen it on YouTube when Arlene from "Delicious Delights" tested a few fragrances there. Second: it is the kind of perfumery that my generation hardly knows any more, because there are no rows of shelves through which you can walk and spray as you please. No, it is rather a shop with a large open space in the middle and a long sales counter all around, behind which the vials are kept by the vendors and can only be tried on request.
Normally this would have driven me away as a relatively shy creature, but the offers in the shop window were too tempting: "Calandre" by Paco Rabanne, the original "Chloé" from the 70s and other classics, which you rarely get in front of your nose, pulled me unstoppably naar binnen, as the Dutch would say.
A friendly gentleman in his forties quickly took care of me and gave me everything to test that my heart desired: "Bandit" by Robert Piguet (not really my thing), Karl Lagerfeld's Chloé, Calandre, Rochas Femme, Je Reviens by Worth and many more... I was in seventh heaven, especially when the exclusive series of "Les Creations de Monsieur Dior" caught my eye at the very bottom. Was the orange one on the edge really "Diorama"? The one Dior that you can hardly buy anywhere in Germany, let alone test? Fantastic.
The nice salesman sprayed some of it on a strip. What was that? I knew that one! A familiar note of lily of the valley and jasmine came up my nose. Clearly "Diorissimo".
Surprised, I asked him if he had really grabbed the right bottle. There it was imprinted, no doubt, Diorama. Finally I blamed it on my overstrained nose and decided to buy it, despite of any financial shortages. After all it was quasi a treasure which I had unexpectedly found between Dam and Voorburgwal.
Back in Germany the next day I unpacked it and sprayed it on my skin, as it should have done back in Amsterdam. And again the well-known Diorissimo tone of lily of the valley and jasmine came out, this time however supplemented by strong caraway. Thank God, it wasn't bottled wrong, it was a scent of its own. Over time it became a little more varied, flowery and slightly fruity, which probably comes from the peach. But the whole thing kept the lightness of Diorissimo and never became deeper or darker.
Slowly disappointment spread. Not because the perfume is bad, no, it's a very beautiful, radiant fragrance, but because I expected something completely different. No 1940s depth, no prunes, no roses. Maybe it is because of my nose that I perceive it differently than others.
Anyway, I decided to give it a new chance in a new collection and released it into the endless expanse of the Souk. With Diorissimo in my closet, it makes no sense for me personally to also own Diorama, considering my nose almost perceives it as a twin perfume plus caraway seeds. Tot ziens, Diorama, het was heel leuk om jou te hebben.

Just as it's supposed to be, I bought Agua Lavanda at its place of origin: beautiful Spain. Three years ago we encountered in a small supermercado in Port de Sóller on the island of Mallorca, when I was on holiday with my brother for a week. It sat on the shelf next to another Mediterranean treasure, the Massimo Dutti EdT from the 80s. Why aren't there great fragrances like that in our supermarkets? Both didn't cost the world, so they went straight into my bagaje.
In the long run Massimo became too spicy for my taste, so only the Puig is left by now - thanks to Carles Puigdemont appearing in the news regularly I finally know how to pronounce it too.

Agua Lavanda is a classic lavender scent and belongs to the fougère family. It opens quite smoky, which reveals its enormous age. The smoky impression could come from lavender itself, but I suspect aldehydes behind it. Comment of my neighbor in the lecture today: "There's a strange smell of incense sticks in the air, is that you?"
The aldehydes and lavender remain together on stage for a long time, until the smoky chemicals slowly disappear and the pure lavanda gets all the attention.
It is a very natural lavender, green, a little tart and incredibly pleasant. It also smells very high-quality, in comparison e.g. to Hypnôse Homme by Lancôme, where a cheap musk spoils the whole impression.
Gradually the lavender becomes weaker, but it does not disappear. Finally it connects with the woody base, which is speckled with a few spots of oakmoss. In this stage memories of Colonia by Acqua di Parma come to mind, whose basic structure smells very similar, but without the lavender.

Agua Lavanda is a very pleasant classic that gives everyone a certain Mediterranean elegance. Unlike Jicky or Pour un homme de Caron it is very airy and can easily be worn at work, especially in the Spanish temperatures we had this summer.