Wednesday, June 23, 2010
What comes to mind at the mention of your name is your glassware. Your gorgeous, gorgeous bottle. Like your body it is quite complex, and to some degree (by this of course we mean to a large degree,) it is overwhelming.
Often, you are mentioned in the same sentence as Angel, and always either in complete reverence or complete distaste. The two of you are both so loud, so rambunctious, that you are either love or hate. (And, alright, so I quite dislike the both of you.) True to your promise, you are more floral, and leave less sillage — but like Angel you are often preferred after at least six hours of wear.
Your liquid is aniseed, ivy, liquorice, vanilla, tonka bean; aggression. Met with amarena cherry, vanilla, praline; syrupy sweetness. Supported by iris, musk; hearty and bold. You fill my mind and get stuck in my throat, choking me. A spoonful of honey; pure and too sweet.
What is truly stunning is the vastness of your line. Not only do you have the standard eau de parfum and eau de toilette, you exist in eau de parfum concentré, whipped body cream, foaming gel, velvet cream, deoderant, sweet cream soap, body scrub crystals, bath sugars, glittery body fondant… for over fourteen hundred pounds, you can even be found in “giant bottle luxury edition” packaging. 2700 milliletres, all in one overwhelmingly large bottle.
This is your embodiment. Everything about you on its own is so delicate, so light and untouchable — but together, your elements create something monstrously large.