VerMoegla

The fragrance smells somehow thick at the beginning. As if one had spread a lotion or pudding on the skin. The iris hits right away. A powdery, vanilla, heavy cream iris. And the creamy musk note is also immediately noticeable. After a few minutes, this impression flattens out a bit and a warm rice pudding settles over the iris. I smell vanilla sugar, pudding, dessert here...BUT: actually, I have my problems with gourmands. They are often too sweet for me. Thankfully, that's not the case here. The rice pudding did get a few sprinkles of vanilla sugar, but it wasn't drowned in syrup. To me, something here also smells quite pleasantly of rum. So a pleasantly sweet vanilla dessert with a kick that adds some woody notes at the very end. Sillage gets skinnier by the hour. Longevity is 4 to 6 hours on my skin, much longer on clothes. A gourmand that doesn't slay me and that just lulls me wonderfully and knows how to protect me from the world outside. Thank you Nathalie.

The first spray is quite citrusy and unfortunately goes quite easily into the toilet cleaner corner. That subsides once the fresh and moist florals take over. A short while later, the tea leaf emerges, which is the only thing about this scent that really convinces me. This is a realistic black tea. Not too long drawn out. Maybe with the bergamot in the direction of Earl Grey? FLW 001 /ALM doesn't reinvent this scent, but it picks up the floral fresh tea summer lovers for little money. Sillage is very moderate, longevity is okay for the price and this kind of fragrance. Nothing for the big appearance but perfect for a spring day in the garden.

One day my brother and I were invited by our grandparents to visit an opera. Hansel and Gretel. I have ambivalent memories of this performance. As children who otherwise spent their time in a village of 200 people performing questionable experiments on electric pasture fences, the Leipzig Opera House was an impressive setting. On the way back, our grandfather discussed the possibilities of making one more detour to a nearby bar without having to put us in a taxi alone on the way back. As we stood around indecisively in Augustusplatz on this rainy autumn evening, a tall woman with wild dark curls caught our children's attention. She looked at us from the side and greeted us cautiously, "Karl? Veronika?" As it turned out, she was a friend of my parents, vaguely known to us from previous visits. Since she had to go in the same direction, she gave us a lift in her taxi and my grandfather could go his way with peace of mind. Meanwhile, we children sat in the taxi with my parents' friend and drove through the autumn rain. I remember this memory so vividly because this woman was wearing a perfume. I suspect it was that Issey Miyake fragrance that my mother also bought one day. It was a glistening bright silvery dut, like breathing in cold fresh air and suffocating at the same time. This woman wrapped in a dark coat, sitting silently smiling next to me on the back seat, embodied maturity, beauty, safety and danger at the same time for me with her scent. This smell was so beautiful and strange to me that it made her a being removed from reality. She seemed to float through it.

If this fragrance were a textile, it would be a purple synthetic velvet. And I have no idea why I like it so much. When I smelled "Velvet Haze" for the first time, a calf-length faux leather skirt crackled in my mind's eye, an angora-soft fuzzy sweater snuggled up and left individual hairs on my tongue....You see: This fragrance has something quite material and textile for me. At first, I honestly wasn't very enthusiastic about it. Kind of scratchy, synthetic, fuzzy sweet. A year later, it happened to come up in a new test and I practiced on it. My mom was immediately on fire, "It smells like you!" she said. I was still taking it easy. And then on a very cold winter day in the park, he had me beguiled. Okay...Velvet HAze...maybe you do smell like me. Oddly enough, I'm relatively disoriented in this Byredo when it comes to individual notes. As a Musklight lover, I tend to suspect the musk rather than really being able to locate it clearly. This isn't a clean Etro musk, nor is it a ladylike Narciso musk. This one is different. The coconut along with the cocoa...it's not really delicious. And thankfully, no bounty either. But it is undoubtedly incredibly... seductive to me. At second glance. Velvet Haze starts off pretty plump and scratchy sweet and can be a bit headache-inducing at first. But after 10 to 15 minutes, this patchouli cocoa coconut cream makes its way in, which I would never eat but love to smell. Velvet Haze is kind of eerily beautiful. A very tiny whiff of musty. And far from a crowd-pleaser. That's probably what I like most...this scent won't appeal to everyone, and it won't suit everyone. But who it "clicks"....der is quite happy with him.

Maybe I am alone with this peculiarity, but it happens more and more often that I choose my fragrance depending on the material of my clothes of the day. So there are my favourites for silk blouses (Molecule 01, Etro Musk), there's my cashmere team (Amour by Kenzo, Abel odors Cobalt Amber, Frederic malles Dries van Noten,...), white shirt scents (Infusion d'Iris, Ambrette 9) and of course people who move between worlds, sometimes here, sometimes there. And then there is the leather jacket team. And Molecule 234.38 together with Slow Dance (ideally layered) is at the top of my list here at the moment. I LOVE the combination of these scents together with the inherent smell of my suede jacket. The crunching sound with every movement of my arms, plus maybe the delicate mint scent of a chewing gum pack from my jacket pocket...and all this with a cold autumn wind in my hair...this combination makes me wishful thinking. SlowDance starts (for me) amazingly sweet. But not sugary, not tasty, not like something edible. Rather cool sweet, abstract and somehow from the beginning ....cool. Just like my leather jacket. The geranium gives the first course something grassy and moist and somehow classic together with the violet. And then the labdanum, the skin-tight warm vanilla, the light and not at all earthy patchouli touch. Now this Byredo becomes really cuddly, soft and cosy without losing its coolness. But what blows my mind most is its ability to be reactivated by water. I like to spray perfume on the back of my neck. Preferably on the lower hairline. Every time I take a shower, I am met by an enchanting scent, a vanilla, resinous breeze that I would like to make my signature.