A perfume is a mixture. A mixture like miscellanea that clash between words and materials to explain just a little, without explaining too much, the why of a perfume. Frustration. So take a vanilla bean, a garden rose with swollen red petals, some old rum exploding with amber woods, a bourbon vetiver, bring each of these materials to your senses. Frustration. This is the love game of perfume, this is the game of love according to Musset, Shakespeare or Racine. And it is so much the better because satisfaction kills whereas desire makes you live by creating movement through the ever renewed distance, so as to never consume like a homicidal ogre. Frustration. Happy are the consumers of desire, unhappy the consumers of enjoyment. Frustration, a perfume to awaken the strong child in the fragile adult or the fragile child in the too-strong adult, a perfume for a regressive journey to the dominion of vanilla, rum and vetiver. Notes: Cumin, Cinnamon, Rum essence, Pure Vanilla, Ciste, Chestnut Wood, Bourbon, Vetiver
