Sunday, February 03, 2013

Lanc么me La Vie est Belle



They say spring came early this year, but in New York City, it's still 25 degrees Fahrenheit tonight, making me yearn for a bit of warmth in my fragrance, at least intermittently between the clean, even aquatic scents I've come to adore, especially whilst at the pool where I've vowed to spend time burning off the calories I inherited from this past holiday season. But tonight is one of those nights I want to curl up in a fluffy comforter with a good book, maybe do my own nails, dreaming about the fabulous body I'm going to achieve in this lifetime, which I'll show off in a body-conscious gown at a gala, dancing underneath a sparkling chandelier to the band playing "Misty".

And there I'll be, wearing this perfume fit for Valentine's Day with its chocolaty goodness...no, not an actual chocolate note, but that "chocolaty patchouli" that perfume lovers have long spoken about, to give the Angel-esque (polite euphemism for "ubiquitous copycat") gourmand Woody Oriental accord more value than to say it's some kind of soft and sweet vanillic scent. The patchouli gourmand is sexy, not sweet, more of an experienced lover as opposed to a virgin, a smoky-earthy kind of nouveau-hippie hip if you will. Still, however strong and sexy it conveys itself to be, it's never matronly but young, young, young, dancing till dawn in heels, not quite a lady like Coco Mademoiselle which it resembles, but more of a kin of wild child Pink Sugar and fashionista Flowerbomb.

You'd never know that the quality of the buttery smooth iris is what makes this patchouli sublime in this genre, because you get lost in the plush, downy chocolaty patch made extra attention-getting and zany combined with bright citrus. Chocolate alone can't be as exciting as the ones with cherries and orange peels, right? Are we strong enough yet?! Do we have flavor, color, attitude, charisma?! I recall a fleshy apricot tone, bringing to mind Lancome Tresor for a moment, the brazen bombshell '80s mega-Floral, rosy-cheeked and oh-so-peachy-keen, lurking somewhere in its past like a stage mom whispering suggestions off-stage. (Now smile!!!)

Like a fluffy chocolate souffle or mousse embellished with decorative fruits, La Vie est Belle is the prettiest pageant queen of a fruitchouli, with all its powerful strength leaving a sillage like an ostentatious dress train for several city blocks, milky, comforting, sugary warm and powdery soft like a heaven sent gourmet cloud, something Angel was not, due to its angular boldness. You'd never know La Vie est Belle was such a gorgeous patchouli from the bottle which in all its blushing hues has nothing to say. And that's how it's going to be when I step down onto that dance floor, say, from the top of the winding staircase: just being silently breathtaking, loving the spotlight and all the attention for as long as the remnants of my youth can milk it. You know it's never too late.