Intime

In a cooler springtime, this is at its best. It’s too weak in extreme temperatures, but in the wet cool spring air, it carries quite decently. Iris and violets are so appropriate and smell wonderful paired with petrichor in the air. Also, this time (probably the fifth time wearing it during the last couple of years) I actually can smell very pronounced patchouli after several hours. Wow. As many recent commenters, I’ve bought this out of pure nostalgia. My elder sister had this in her teens, her bulky sweaters smelled of this fragrance all the time and I thought it was so nice. I wanted to be like her when I grew up, and that included having this opaque turquoise-white phial on my dresser, obviously. Thirty years forward, I see this by pure chance in the online marketplace while looking for another piece of my past (Midnight Poison, but that’s beside the point). I see the familiar turquoise swirl of a cap and cannot believe my eyes... Could it be that it’s STILL in production? Me and my sis live in different cities, days apart, I miss her terribly, and of course, I need this perfume on my dresser—to remind me of her. When I got it and made the first spritz it was like falling into the past. Hugging my sister, burrowing into her scarf with my nose to inhale this tender, powdery, clean scent. It’s quite perceivable, but so transparent it’s being overshadowed by her hairspray that she generously uses to keep that impressively highly teased side-swept engineering marvel of bangs that she wears (the early 90s are still big on big hair). Intime is almost as elusive as the smell of violets in the garden. In the broad daylight you almost never can catch it. Yet when it’s quiet evening, humid twilight hanging between night and day, they suddenly amaze you with their gentle and fresh sweetness.