Netti77

Amouage...Amouage, Amooouaaaaaaage.
That word alone puts me into the Thousand and One Nights.
Scheherazade with her stories. yes...
Be that as it may.
It is evening and my husband has invited me to dinner. The rascal always does that when he has done something wrong and has to bend it straight again. Hmm... yes, I like to eat well. And he knows it

Chic upscale restaurant with evening music, also dancing if you like it. I am not so much the dancer, then rather disco, where the dance arts are not so relevant. But that's not the issue now.
There are 8 courses, beautifully fine with decorated biscuits on the plate. Between the corridors one may swing the dance leg. We eat, talk and observe. Cultivate our marriage, so to speak.
An older couple has taken a seat at the neighboring table. She - very well-groomed, blonde. He is tall, visibly aged, well sprung, Mediterranean appearance. When we already came to our table, the Lord winked at me in greeting. "Nice," I thought. Again and again there was a little conversation. The gentleman made charming compliments and constantly winked in my direction. Sometime between aisle 4 or 5 he rose, visibly anxious and steered in our direction.
"May I ask the lady for the dance?" bathei he looked at my husband
"I'd love to." My husband winks at me. Until I can even understand with whom the gentleman wants to dance, the good guy pulls my hand and I have no choice but to follow him onto the dance floor. The gentleman puts both hands around my talie, a rollator handle like this, and off we go. We rock back and forth like this. I look embarrassed at my husband, who is visibly enjoying himself, talking to his wife.
The Lord at my side comes so close to me that he breathes down my throat most of the time.
"O... You're rich... They smell like my summer home."
"Really? Where is it?"
"Caucasus, you know where that is?"
Well, I was good at geography. I nod and try to describe to him roughly the geographical location of the area.
"When I was a little boy, there was an apricot tree in our yard. Which was so huge that we could play under it when we were kids. He gave beautiful, cool shadows. The tree bore so many fruits that nobody was able to pick them. That's how they fell to the ground. But the sun was burning. You know, in summer it was up to 50 degrees Celsius, so these apricots dried on dusty ground. There we had, boys, until autumn always something to eat on the street. You pick those up, dust them off, and hmmm... I haven't done so well in Germany. They reach for these apricots and the hot Caucasian sun."
Whoa...That was a compliment...

Music has died down and we went to our places. I still had to prop the Lord up when I left... But in my head, for the whole evening... The Arabian Nights. Chess Avenue. Caucasus. Amouaaaaage.

Aha... Nundannic i hold the beautifully printed cardboard in my hand.
Of course I researched the internet before ordering. Quince, apple, cardamom, saffron.
Italian coast, Amalfi. Unfortunately I had to imagine it all, because I couldn't test the expensive scent anywhere in our house, nor was I ever in this picturesque place. So I relied on description and in great hope ordered blindly online. Quince, my hope was quince.
I carefully open the box, boah... valuable, alone haptically a pleasure. Flaconic Quality, design everything I like.
So... now I imagine Italy, sea, quince tree and dare first spray on my wrist.
Pfftttt, pffft.... pfffttt....
Oh, uh... I'm 6 years old, my forehead is burning. There's a thermometer in your mouth.
My grandma... who hasn't lived for 10 years... is turning in the kitchen and just baked:
"So my child, I told you not to take off your cap on the way home. Now you've got a cold. We'll figure it out. Grandma's gonna do it now."
I've got a runny nose. I have to sniff. But I fill myself with care and security. Grandma lifts my undershirt and rubs my chest and back with some spicy (carnation?) ointment.
Nose opens immediately and lungs fill with delicious sweet balsamic aroma. Then she turns around and in my little hands lands a pot of warm very sweet fruit (quince?) herbs teas.
"Drink, drink. It'll relieve biting sore throats and take fever. We'll figure it out. Grandma's gonna do it."
I take a sip and it's ridiculously tasty and good for you. And I breathe and I breathe and I breathe... And fill me with care and security. And I do pffftt again... And my tears come...

Not that I don't have girlfriends,
i have some, but I can count them on one hand. Our relationship has existed since our student days and we cultivate a loving relationship with each other. We'll have breakfast together. Let's go for a leisurely stroll. We'll just reserve the evening for the two of us. You know, I like to take time for each of my girls separately, so we can maintain the relationship sincerely. We have loving contact, great time...
But that day I was alone in downtown Stuttgart. None of my friends had time. And secretly, I was looking for a new girlfriend. I know it's a little mean, but you can't have enough friends, they say.
So after a short stroll I ended up in a fine privately run perfumery. The nice owner showed me one fragrance after the other. But my spoiled nose didn't like this either. I was about to leave when, almost at the door, one of them pawed at me. In pink dress, finest lace, valuable cord around the neck, expensive hat decorated with zirconia.
"Have you met Delina? From de Marly?"
"No, we haven't met anywhere before. I mean I've heard of her...read..."
"May I put these on your wrist so you can get to know each other?"
I hesitated, as if I suspected something, but stretched out my hand towards the seller.
Puffed up Puffed up Hmm... Ohh... that's great, so sweet-floral-fresh...
"Why don't you take her for a walk, the scent must unfold!"
So I walked away, with Delina by the hand. Continue through the botiques of the shopping street.
It was nice with Delina, she talked quietly and cheerfully with me, lovely flowery, nice.
"Coffee? I have to sit down." We looked for an upscale cafeteria and let ourselves fall into comfortable armchairs. That was the first time I noticed anything strange about Delina... Her dress was a little weathered... The neckline, almost vulgaire. Oh, dear, are those stains? She suddenly smelled a bit old-fashioned and became loud with her language. I got a little queasy, I didn't want to attract attention. But the Delina didn't care about my discomfort, she talked and talked. Private, intimate, from earlier times... Loud and uninhibited. And then, her smell, old powdery, rose, pure old rose.
Oooo that's not how I imagined it, our being together.
What am I gonna do now? I brought you here.
"Delina" "I'll visit the porcelain exhibition"
"Wait, I can use bissle culture too"
I fought them off with my hand, "I'll be right back"
Moved towards the toilet. So now you need a plan, I thought. Sneaking out of a restaurant that easy? Is it then noble?
Never mind, up and away. That was the most embarrassing moment in a long time. Yes, I let the Delina sit and ran as fast as I could.
"Sorry, Delina, we won't be bosom friends."
If anyone meets Delina, you don't know me. Okay

When I saw the price for 100ml, I had to swallow.
"in the normalosegment you already know you well" I thought to myself. "Now we look what the fine ladies or gentlemen, is unisex, use".
Spray once... twice... look around to see if salesgirl's looking my way. No... she's in consultation. Well, go ahead and diesel... Rapid I put the tester back and... lose myself. What a scent... Valuable, soft, yes, slightly fruity, slightly citric, slightly bitter... Coleidoscope of scents surrounds me. He's sooo... "I want it, I want it" So, now the price is ticking in my head. And I'll be right back with my brains. Let me see... I think about it and stroll on in the department store.
But with every head movement... Kaleidoscope of this fragrance, sometimes a picture, sometimes different, sweet, then bitter, then fruity citrus. So it went about 2 hours and then... Bump nothing left. Uh... i thought Bal was taking a little longer. I just found the rhythm to the fine music. No.
I'm filling up like a disco, fast dancing, hop- hop- hop- hop Bal. When Flickflack goes out and the light is suddenly on, I notice that I'm dancing alone. My companion... I mean the scent... diluted and left me alone. Waasss? I paid 180 euros for admission. For the two of us. Where are you my noble companion?
Somebody comes up to me and wants to see the ticket... i look in my pockets, nothing there. Party's over. So I am promoted out, in a rude way.
Uh... i think... that's supposed to be the distinguished Bal and still in famous Afrique? Well, I don't know...
I've seen that twice. Please, somebody believe me?
I'd be willing to save up and stop buying new clothes and bags. I wanted to go to this Bal, and with this companion, but if he was such an A.... is. No. I won't be lumpen.
But I wouldn't be disinclined if I ever met someone who looks similar...äää..smells, I mean, then I'm ready to try again. I'm dying to get a chance at Bal.

This scent.... fills up like worthy, new, sexy pyjamas.
After the shower sprayed on and you fill yourself in expensive nightwear wrapped. He's not cute, not girlish... no... Woman through and through. Young, elegant, well-groomed.
With light leather or rather velour breath, which remains only volatile, vanilla-milky creaminess unfolds on the skin.
The scent is so round, nothing disturbs, nothing corners. It conveys peace and tranquillity in a way.
Very intimate fragrance. With me almost without Sillage. Only the one who may smell it on you, judge him too ;)
It's not a must-have. But... for those certain hours. That's right