My perfume preferences come and go in certain phases. Generally I oscillate between two major leanings, that come and go like the tides. Maybe the moon has something to do with it, I don’t know. This peculiarity enables me to wear many, often contradictory perfumes. That is how it is possible to simultaneously love Un Jardin sur le Nil and Frapin 1697, despite their diametrically opposed traits.
There is the super-minimalistic, as-light-as-possible, fancy-yourself-an-elven-princess phase. And there is the sink-into-the-super-plush-rich-brocade-Persian-carpet-and-wander-through-spice-markets phase.
It is kind of obvious in which phase I turn to Amouage. And it never disappoints.
After experiencing such happiness with my magic carpet ride that is Epic and the loving embrace of Lyric, I approached Memoir next.
Memoir Woman was created by perfumers Daniel Maurel and Dorothée Piot in 2010. Notes include mandarin, cardamom, absinthe, pink pepper, pepper, clove, white flowers, rose, jasmine, wood, frankincense, styrax, oakmoss, castoreum, leather, labdanum, fenugreek and musk.
Amouage says it is an animalic leather chypre. Now that does not necessarily sound like I would like it, but as usual, what I think I like and what I end up liking are often two pairs of shoes entirely.
I know from my best friend in perfume that it is a fragrance that makes her feel like she is the Queen of the World. Now that is a statement.
When I first wore it I wrote her an email saying, for me it was not Queen of the World, but maybe Vice President. But half an hour later I already had to amend that. Memoir is truly royal material.
While I am not over the moon upon first spray, like I was with Lyric, as soon as the top notes mellow, a paradisiacal vista opens in my mind courtesy of Memoir.
I see a landscape right out of 1001 Nights. An oriental city at night, softly lit under the star studded sky, white buildings, lean spires, mosques.
The night air is soft, warm, like a caress on skin, the air is fragrant with spices, flowers and resins.
Memoir invites me in like a friendly host who will provide sustenance and a bed for the night without asking questions.
I can lay back on an old, worn leather divan and enjoy the hot, spicy tea I am served. I can truly relax and let go. I feel cared for and as if I had not a care in the world.
May be that is indeed how a Queen feels (although I doubt todays royalty would agree), or maybe it is how the Vice President feels after all. All the privileges, not so much of the responsibility. (My apologies to Mr Biden, what do I know…)
Memoir develops from a slightly harsh and bumpy start on me, into a smooth, warm and gorgeously sweet (in a good way!) skin scent that even my super-picky, aquatics loving husband had to acknowledge as “quite good, but it is mostly you, not perfume, I think it has worn off”. Well, it hadn’t, but isn’t that what we all want to hear? That something smells great, but it is you not the perfume?
Okay, that leaves me with three Amouages on my wish list of five. Sigh.
But how can I forgo something that makes me feel cared for, carefree and ready for Vice Presidency? Exactly.
Hoặc