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Djonia – :
The first day I sampled La Belle Saison, I was overcome with such strong nostalgic longing that I had to sit down. Immediately my mind recalled the beginning of The Waste Land by T.S. Elliot. If you just consider the first four lines of the poem, you will have an understanding of my experience with La Belle Saison.
The Waste Land
“April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.”
I really enjoy this fragrance for all the emotions it stirs in me. What I actually smell is intense fresh lilacs in their full splendor. Floral, warm, spiced, creamy, rich, honey-filled. Intoxicating! The fragrance is quite linear on my body for the first 6-8 hours. I experience abundant lilacs and honey spices. The violet leaf and bergamont provide a wonderful sense of green snapped stems. The heliotrope makes the beeswax creamier. The styrax, acacia, and sandalwood provide this surreal experience of rain-damp wood and soggy spring ground after winter thaw. Throughout the rich sambac and anise bind everything into a warm exotic spicy whole. This is the language of Spring, articulated succinctly but thoroughly. There is an allusion to vanilla without actual vanilla.
When I was in my teen years, I was educated in Tervuren, BE. It rained constantly, especially in the Spring. I once shared the sweetest, most innocent and awkward kiss with a friend behind a huge overgrown lilac bush at the far edge of my parent’s back garden. It was April or May and the bush was drooping with heavy conical clusters of lilacs. My school shoes were slipping in the muck and my nose and fingers were cold from the misting rain. But my torso was overheating in my jumper because my heart was racing. I could not stop giggling. We were crouching down so as to be unseen. The smell of La Belle Saison made me recall that afternoon so strongly. So visceral. Like I’m back there again behind that damp wall of lilac, awkwardly wrestling back branches, hoping not to fall foolishly on my butt in the mud, electrified with angst, ignorant to any activities that follow kisses, obsessing nervously about which direction to tilt my head so we don’t smoosh noses. Remember when the Kiss was All there was? Nothing more expected beyond lips touching? I lived a phase of life where hand holding was so sensual and one delicate kiss was ecstasy. So many years ago!
maw426speagoessenda – :
The site says I’m blocked when I try to post my review of La Belle Saison. Basically: buy it! Full Bottle worthy 100%
Edit: I figured it out- thanks techies