Jules
It smells like what i imagine Ozymandias’ green house in Watchmen smells like while he is talking to you of his world vision while shrugging off and laughing at the fact that he is lying to the world and even sacrificing many of them. A greenhouse garden filled with the most exotic plants of the world...it seems more temperate forest than jungle, a delicate sourness of sheer fecundity in the air, the gravity of all these presences weighing on you is only matched by the levity in their unceasing procession, but it is not a totally free procession, it’s minty and cold and seems to deliberately reach for stars and dignity instead of reaching it haphazardly in a more whimsical fashion...there is a levity in the sense Christianity reaches for levity, but it is a false levity fueled by illusions of free will and such?
Dirty soap seems more and more apt a descriptor...but wat mean? Im getting visions of dirty saturated leathery cowboy washing his face in the morning, leaving just an abrupt perfume of soap over spicy leather body musk...a sad attempt at cleaning up what deep down is spicy...indeed this is seems a stiff cover up, I think I want to try something of a little more loose and whimsical bent....I’m also getting visions of being in Ozymandias’ greenhouse in Antarctica again. The widest expression of the wild in a tightly controlled atmosphere...just like ozymandias, the most calculated minty cool guy with a most ravenous wild ambitious broad instinct within. But despite having encapsulated all this wild, and appearing to be intimate with it, he seems out of touch with it on some level...
A concern of mine is that the scent evokes memories of encounters with older people, grandmas and grandpas. These are people, at least in my life, who pretend the most towards dignity and uprightness, a pursuit which I now see as silly and tasteless. They acknowledge the beastliness of life and consider themselves the conquerors&assimilators of it, but it is delusion, half baked attempt at full alchemic assimilation. Just today I spoke with my grandfather, one close to death, and he spoke of free will and each of us choosing to be good or bad...a view I do not hold, an energy I do not hold, an energy Jules seems to hold... I wanted man in white pants and sports jacket, bent on James dean driving...not man in white robes pretending towards dignity and wasp preppiness.
The word exquisite comes to mind. Like a library with many old and wizened books on its shelf, like a greenhouse with many plants and creatures under its roof in vital balance, but again it’s too clean and lacks a whimsicality proper to the fullness of nature. The library is tooo well organized without chance stacks of books that allow one to stumble across truths synchronistically and whimsically...
It perhaps has too much of a sense of its own nobility. It tries too hard to uphold a facade, it wants to appear whole instead of just resonating in it and being it.
A jock lends his letterman’s jacket to his lady friend, he is white knighting. This perfume smells like white knightery in these various senses....
I got sent a complimentary aquatic cologne sample along with Jules and the contrast is very interesting...Perhaps aquatics are tooo washy, wishy washy, no depth, just a naive fuckboy grin shimmering along, no deep seismic activity going on.
Aquatics give sense that there is no dark depth to be reverent of...simple fuck boy fragrance... Jules gives sense that there is depth but that it has conquered and subdued it, it has nature within its grasp, again the ozymandias greenhouse comes to mind, he has world in palm of his hand and will slay the dragon. Aquatics don’t even acknowledge there is a dragon.
I want a fragrance that doesn’t pretend to have the dragon tamed and admits to having more than a bit of it within itself. Jules seems to be too sure it has the dragon contained. (There is literally a dragon on the d’orange rossy de palma)
Is it bad that I want to smell more urine? Or am I thinking wrongly of what it is I want?
Is Angel a bit more of a shameless slut? Tinged by more bodily fluids and less soap as Jules is?
For some reason this comes to mind thinking of Jules, a deep fragrant forest and misled men thinking they have reached final strange dignity?
This is my first full length review, maybe I allowed myself to chase associations too freely, bless you for receiving my own mad fullness.
I’ve been reading about the various libre d’orange perfumes and they seem more “salty sulfuric” as you mention and more erotic
As the green sour note wears off it gives off discrete hints of pussy
Dirty soap seems more and more apt a descriptor...but wat mean? Im getting visions of dirty saturated leathery cowboy washing his face in the morning, leaving just an abrupt perfume of soap over spicy leather body musk...a sad attempt at cleaning up what deep down is spicy...indeed this is seems a stiff cover up, I think I want to try something of a little more loose and whimsical bent....I’m also getting visions of being in Ozymandias’ greenhouse in Antarctica again. The widest expression of the wild in a tightly controlled atmosphere...just like ozymandias, the most calculated minty cool guy with a most ravenous wild ambitious broad instinct within. But despite having encapsulated all this wild, and appearing to be intimate with it, he seems out of touch with it on some level...
A concern of mine is that the scent evokes memories of encounters with older people, grandmas and grandpas. These are people, at least in my life, who pretend the most towards dignity and uprightness, a pursuit which I now see as silly and tasteless. They acknowledge the beastliness of life and consider themselves the conquerors&assimilators of it, but it is delusion, half baked attempt at full alchemic assimilation. Just today I spoke with my grandfather, one close to death, and he spoke of free will and each of us choosing to be good or bad...a view I do not hold, an energy I do not hold, an energy Jules seems to hold... I wanted man in white pants and sports jacket, bent on James dean driving...not man in white robes pretending towards dignity and wasp preppiness.
The word exquisite comes to mind. Like a library with many old and wizened books on its shelf, like a greenhouse with many plants and creatures under its roof in vital balance, but again it’s too clean and lacks a whimsicality proper to the fullness of nature. The library is tooo well organized without chance stacks of books that allow one to stumble across truths synchronistically and whimsically...
It perhaps has too much of a sense of its own nobility. It tries too hard to uphold a facade, it wants to appear whole instead of just resonating in it and being it.
A jock lends his letterman’s jacket to his lady friend, he is white knighting. This perfume smells like white knightery in these various senses....
I got sent a complimentary aquatic cologne sample along with Jules and the contrast is very interesting...Perhaps aquatics are tooo washy, wishy washy, no depth, just a naive fuckboy grin shimmering along, no deep seismic activity going on.
Aquatics give sense that there is no dark depth to be reverent of...simple fuck boy fragrance... Jules gives sense that there is depth but that it has conquered and subdued it, it has nature within its grasp, again the ozymandias greenhouse comes to mind, he has world in palm of his hand and will slay the dragon. Aquatics don’t even acknowledge there is a dragon.
I want a fragrance that doesn’t pretend to have the dragon tamed and admits to having more than a bit of it within itself. Jules seems to be too sure it has the dragon contained. (There is literally a dragon on the d’orange rossy de palma)
Is it bad that I want to smell more urine? Or am I thinking wrongly of what it is I want?
Is Angel a bit more of a shameless slut? Tinged by more bodily fluids and less soap as Jules is?
For some reason this comes to mind thinking of Jules, a deep fragrant forest and misled men thinking they have reached final strange dignity?
This is my first full length review, maybe I allowed myself to chase associations too freely, bless you for receiving my own mad fullness.
I’ve been reading about the various libre d’orange perfumes and they seem more “salty sulfuric” as you mention and more erotic
As the green sour note wears off it gives off discrete hints of pussy
