10 - L'Été Avenue Gabriel

Opens like you just bit into a yellow plum at golden hour. Not the ripest fruit but nonetheless a juicy one that sparkles and then oozes, first tart then honeyed, sticky on your skin in the nicest way. Pink pepper does tiny tap-dances across before the fruit relaxes and the florals enter the frame. Iris steps forward in poise, jasmine breathing from the edges, a true rose unfurling with plummy depth. Still fruity though, a much welcome presence, even with all that scaffolding. And somewhere underneath, the pale suede that’s more of an impressionistic textile than realistic cloth, brings modernity built from musks and soft woods. What keeps me returning is the texture. First thirty minutes: edible pulp and a youthful rose-and-thorn fizz. Lovely and, though not exactly bubbly, refreshing and rejuvenating. Then the abrupt yet seamless switch to a white cloth over the scene, more romantic, soft focus. Even the suede just glides in, tactile with pale fruit memory. The previous lively sweetness tones to a murmur; a table for two on the shady side. It’s bright but mannered, tender but not coddling, trail is tender and strangely buoyant... ahh. A quick portrait of someone I want to be: unrushed, sunlit, put together but not pressed, walking home with a paper bag of stone fruits and rosewater and the faint idea of a kiss!