Flioline

It was through this fragrance that I came across the Papier d'Armenie, those wafer-thin papers that have become a cultural asset in France, immersed in benzoin and a secret, which you let burn away in style, just to immerse and sink into this incomparable fragrance. In Armenia, it was still used to drive away diseases and evil spirits. How beautiful, how lovely, and since then I have been smoking. Thanks ChopIsland, thanks Can, thanks Michele * *

Danza Armena is another creation of my current creative favourite Michele Bianchi. Like Humus, to which I recently wrote, Danza Armena is: Cheeky! Exciting. Different. Butterflies in my stomach conjure up this house
So Danza is also different from Guerlain's Bois d'Armenie, which is a fascinating relative of his.
As I write this, I have once again applied both...

Bois is quieter. Bois is much more mature. He's more ladylike. Which is not to say, never in my book, that he should be reserved for the female sex And more serious, too. And as time goes on, it becomes clearer
The pyramids do not explain the different moods at all, I just shake my head (Are they right at all??). In a way, the two reference scents for Papier d'Armenie always smell very similar. And yet they embody completely different moods

Danza is Danza. A dance. Une dance. The dance of the delicate smoke cloud rising from the finely folded paper accordion, but also a dance of the heart.
Danza is a bit fresher at first (A tiny splash of tangerine?). He is more pert, louder, in the best sense of the word more oblique and a bit more angular. Insofar as such an incredibly soft scent can be edgy... I can lie down in Danza. (Bois expects more decency, you don't lie there, you just sit there. With your head held high. Which is nice.) Soft, hmmmm, skin, and also a bit animalistic, heaven knows where from. And yes, Danza is cute too. But here I don't flee for once, here I chase the bottle and say: For me * It's a fragrance to stay in. Let me dwell in you.
In the meantime I wear it like this, I wear it like this, yes yes, but the "I want you" impulse came like this: I wanted this room in my home. Mon boudoir

Both fragrances are France. No question
Bois is the fine lady herself. Elegant, a bit powdery and flowery in appearance, cloudy, quite fine; very skilfully composed. Then more sedate. All fine, all fine. But after a while... Well, you know them
Danza has the decisive fine pinch of more pizzazz for me here. Spirit! And: Danza is more of a room. Danza is the French hotel room with a view of the rooftops. You climbed up the stairs, put down your suitcase, take a breather... There you go. A smile. A kiss. It's early evening. The bed, an armchair with a slightly flaky brocade cover, silky pillows with rich floral patterns woven into them, this curtain... Outside, from underneath, the wonderful sounds of life on the street. Laughter, shouting, an accordion, children, a small presumably white dog... You know you'll go out again, you'll go out again, find some romantic place in a side street, then when it's dark. And then come back here to your dance space
I never knew why those rooms smelled so bad. Something musty and old-fashioned, yet crazyingly erotic. French. What's that smell like in French?
There's this memory, and: Papier d'Armenie.

And I swear: Danza smells absolutely like the French cultural heritage with Armenian roots. I know it, I just fell for the fascinating paper d'Armenie. It doesn't smell like the smoke of the embers, it smells mainly like smoke. But of the paper before, and the air after. An air of France, a memory of summer and the night in the hotel "La Danseur Agille"

This is Robin Hood, the avenger of the disinherited and undervalued. Or so.
The inherently undervalued.

(And also that of the over perfumed. But that's another story that will be addressed as well)

What to do with "l'eau de parfum #3 green, green, green and... green"? There's, uh, quite a bit of green in the name. In the perfume too. But: not that much...
And not that long either.

And that's where I'm at.
Because this fragrance, like its favourite siblings, doesn't score points with me with fireworks of performance. Not even with bold and daring niche perfumery art. But with clean, intelligent notes. Which have a clear direction, and a fresh, natural one at that. Which don't knock you over, but surround you with a pleasant fragrance. Always pleasant
A while; not that long. On purpose.

green, green, green and... green (gnagnagna) is a scent to take a breather, against the action. Like a good, well-baked bread with a fine topping and a good cucumber in the evening instead of a huge cooking including a pile of dirty dishes at the end. No Tünnef. Simple. Delicious. Done
It feels very much like home to me, to me. No opera today
And yet always fine. Let me quote Venus108 from below: "Fascinating tender green. No pressure, no rush. You is me and me is you." Right

Green fresh breath, a green heart dedicated to tranquillity, and a floor of a little vetiver and a little more cedar wood that dissolves so modestly that you hardly notice it. Because you're still with yourself
The principle applies more generally, with other nuances of course, as well as for Menta y Menta and for Indian Study (both of which are further favourites of mine) and some more from the house that doesn't need it.

Empty apartments are very hard to come by right now. Why not try lighter fragrances. Clean ones. Considered. That you can rely on in a relaxed way. (I wish my apartment would look like a Miller et Bertaux fragrance!)
Praise be to my Miller et Bertaux's, when I have tasted (and this happens often since I have been here with you) a fragrance that lasts too long for me. Or which is stupid anyway. Or which (also often often) has the same vanilla, amber, musk, wasweissich (you know: the!) base. And does not want to give way...
And depending on the vanilla or amber or wasweissich, then comes the appropriate rescue from the Miller er Bertaux forest jumped! A little spray over it, freshness, simplicity, poof, well-being, it's good
(And yeah, they are all great layer team players.)

In this case, the rescuer jumping out of the forest is here... is green. Yeah, not really green, green, green AND... green. Just green. Enough green
And not so long green.

And that's why it's a compliment when durability and sillage are around 6 and never climb above 7. At the most.
It's supposed to!!!!
Lovely.

Today the really nice pocket atomizers from the Perfumer H Sharings arrived, thanks ThanosKon!

I'll go right in...

It starts with a really fine incense note,
soon underlaid or flattered with a soft touch of vanilla. Like an introverted Avignon
White Smoke is not a bully. He comes across as elegant. He's not a screamer either. You want to smell him, you gotta listen. I'm happy to

In the beginning, a lot happens relatively quickly, everything fine, everything very smooth. After a few very quiet blows of the noble incense and that first inkling of vanilla, the next clear note after a few very quiet blows of an unclear nature and small clouds of iris powder is: smoke

It's smoking! Again with this certain decency of the house, it starts. (I've only tested two fragrances of Perfumer H, but I'd almost bet my Bowmaker that they all come out that way. There's nothing thick about this) Still... it smokes. Long and steadily. The phrase "like standing around a campfire" used over and over again ... Clearly. And pure you stand there. For a while I smell nothing else, I'm surprised, but: yes, there is something

First I thought I would have to get used to it, then I am almost melancholy when these pure campfire vibes get company. Now comes the vanilla again. Vanilla, benzoin... Very nice, but a little profane, I think

But where one thought that this could be the end, there is, how nice, more movement in the game. Something cooler, something fresher, and I am happy (which I am often annoyed by vanilla or amber finishes that are always so similar). Maybe a little bit of camomile that makes it blow, maybe a little bit of sweet oud? (I can't clearly assign some of the things from the pyramid, man and H forgive me) Nice. Elegant. Fine fine.

I have a (but a little bit down) bang effect where the white smoke cloud really ends. Plops.
Because I got both fragrances together and curiously tested them in parallel, one on the right and one on the left, I have the direct comparison with Rain Cloud, a very different fragrance (except for the specific elegance and subtle restraint I claim). And? ...
The end, the base of the base is exactly the same!

All roads lead to Rome. (Or Athens?) (London.)
ISO-E super? (Or something similar from the Little Chemistry Laboratory Assistant Suitcase)
I'm not a professional, but this is my tip. Bets are accepted.

The durability is good, much longer than I would have thought at the beginning of the fine intellectual sensitivity. And since he comes along so briskly (as one would have wanted to make Tigger from Poo the Bear unsuccessful for once), I agree with it. Despite the musically seen a little uninspired ending.

I'm glad to have this smoke in a bottle

(Yes! The Albatross was exaggerated; but as a title just too tempting ;) )

WOW !

Woa, what a wild start!
The beginning: wallowing in damp leaves!
Rolling on the fur like a happy dog.
Dig, rummage. Splashing! Damp leaves flying.

After a while another layer appears, just below, parallel,
a drier one. Today it is. I want to lie down there too, a little softer now
An incredibly physical scent experience creates humus.

He reminds, pressing and wild at first, only, of what?
Run, outside, jump, fall with relish...
This daring phase of childhood. And again and again earth, foliage, foliage, foliage.
A hayloft. An animal too, a friendly one
Adventure and security in one.

Eventually, wood. Darker. Thicker. Sanded, old, smooth
Table. Bed. No table...
After a while the table at my place will turn into a whole hunting lodge
And the fragrance grows up, now has dignity, no, nobility.
Goes silent.

I don't know how he does it then, to be so cool and at the same time have a cosy, glowing open fireplace in mind.
Perhaps because the petrichor still swings out happily, while oak moss on oud and vetiver sit down with rum in leather, surrounded by a rose.

Then suddenly it gets even quieter.
Pictureless clear.
Great.

At the very end, a cloud that... oh no;
i'm not telling you that

And again I have found such a smell (like recently Odin's Tanoke 07 and Danza Armenia, the latter also from the smart Michele Bianchi), which I don't really want to smell, but which I want to smell.

Invitations to be alone. Wonderful

Sillage? I don't care; there's nobody else here
Durability? I lost track of time.

Is he sexy now because the bottle is so beautifully red and "black leather" is standing there, or can he do it alone?

I hardly ever rate bottles, and I don't really care about them. But this one... already wow! Take me if you dare, he says

I dare you
Here comes a massive dose of super red super sweet cherry (which also holds and pervades, although it becomes softer in waves). But before I can even think "schoolgirl sex", a crisp breeze of pepper arrives. Yeah, yeah! There it smokes already, a trace that accompanies us until the end. And: here they wear leather, black, it's grown up - despite squeaky cherry.

Flowery variants hover in between. Sometimes surprisingly beautiful. To end up a bit grubby but also super soft - if there wouldn't still be the smoke...

The voice of Sting, yes, the song is from the early eighties still, no, it was even 78th punk lives! Pink and yellow by the Pistols. Here very red.
Sometimes admittedly a bit shrilly-sweet. And smoky. But there are evenings...