Morocco

It's probably the neroli, but the opening of this fragrance reminds me of ripe, juicy moroccan oranges. They are accompanied by a lovely glowing, balsamic warmth and wafts of incense smoke. The smell of oranges and incense lingers. There is a soft caress of flowers before the scent morphs into a more shadowy and dry scent of earth and stone. It's the scent of a city with teracotta walls. Of it's narrow, cobblestone alleys, spice markets and mosques. It's a warm, dry, desert like fragrance with cooler hints of dust and shade. If you close your eyes it's like you are there, in the medina of Marrakech, enjoying the smells, the colours and the sounds. It's so beautiful. This scent is one of many higly evocative creations from Anna Zworykina. It is stunning and I love it. Sillage is medium at first, but softens a little after about an hour. Longevity is very good. On me it lasts for between 7-9 hours.

“Casablanca in Winter” Winter in Casablanca is not hot at all, it’s absolutely nice there in winter. All the summer pleasures – flowers (jasmine and roses), fruis, spices are there but without exhausting summer heat. The city is swept through and freshened by ocean wind. Walking through city is a pleasure, no need to move in short runs from a door to a door hiding from the cruel sun. A beautiful perfume this Morocco, it wispers about far cities. Not savannah, not even Kilimanjaro – constant african attractions, it is about old arabian cities. It is very extraordinary, but to me Anna’s perfume smells of...carved wooden doors, the doors of old houses in ancient districts of Casablanca an Fez, Tangiers and Marrakesh. Te perfume smells of spices of the kitchens, of rare flowers of inner gardens, of dry rose buds of rass-el-hanout and of aged wood of doors hiding all these treasures from strangers. Marvellous cinnamon here reminds of fine clay, dust that slowly, little by little each day, falls onto your cloths, penetrates your pores, inpregnates your skin and your very soul. You cannot wash it off, not now, not ever, not in this life. Probably, if you come to Casablanca in winter serching for what this perfume smells of, you can hardly find anything like there. But I strongly believe that the value of any work of art (and perfumery as the most abstract of them all is really a high art) is not in copying reality (as an example of pointless process of creating one can take hyper-photorealism, or how do they call it, for unknown reason very popular these days – any photocopier or a robot would do it better and faster) but in pure aesthetic impuls this work of art gives, in a response it produces. And here in this perfume one will see camels and palms, the other will see arabian nights and I see an old arabian city in winter and it’s ages old doors. This perfume, seemingly uncomplicated and understandable at a glance, nevertheless is full to the brim with sence and logic ... and a dream.