Friday, October 1, 2010

Enveloped in lovely flowers

You know how I said the other day I was smelling perfumes that I didn't feel I had the right words to describe? Well, I still don't, but I don't think I'll be coming up with them any time soon and I do want to share with you this new-found classic that was born in the 21st century.

The two creations by Annie Buzantian for Puredistance are recent but they smell elegantly classic and as if they weren't produced in these times.

As with Puredistance I, Antonia comes without any notes listed. Oh, I adore a good mistery. I just wish later someone would tell me how correct was I in my assumptions.
So let me tell you what captivated me with Antonia. Because that is what happened, even though when I first tried it, I still thought it couldn't possibly beat Puredistance I for my affections.

It starts green, powdery and slightly earthy, there is a bitter quality to that greeness but at the same time, it evokes softness and warmth. A friend told me it smelled fresh to her which made me consider my own idea of fresh. My nose seems to have evolved in time when  fresh in my mind is linked with aquatic, ozonic, fabric softener ideas of fresh. This is not it. I realized later that this is what fresh must have smelled like in historical romance. Classic, soft, green and flowery.

After the initial slightly bitter feel to greeness (and brief flirting with soapiness), it just gets better and better. I cannot stop myself smelling it, I feel like someone perfumed my favourite cashmere sweater with lush flowers so that at the same time I feel warm and enveloped in a cloud of white, velvety flowers. It is like your favourite elegantly stylish aunt hugging you and the warmth and perfume that envelops you with all the love that is in that hug. Elegance and style are forever and smelling like that can never be wrong.

Today I'm finally wearing it not just testing it on my wrist. What can I say? It feels like it's blooming on my skin. For something so soft and feminine, it has some serious tenacity and wonderful wafting capability. And I absolutely love the fact that 7 hours after applying it, I can still smell it around me.
It is never too sweet, something is hiding in there making it just perfectly poised with florals dancing around a base hiding a note that won't let them drown in their own lushness and sweetness. It also makes me wonder if there is some kind of a juicy fruit note hidden in those flowers?

I want to thank Ninja of  Puredistance for sending me a sample of their new perfume. There is also one more reason I need to thank them. They made me realize that I actually love classic perfumes (I really didn't think that before).

Picture was received as part of Puredistance release package.


  1. Hi Ines,

    Well, note list or no note list, I have a very good idea of how this scent smells thanks to your excellent recreation in words. : - ) And though I have never heard of this perfume company, I will keep an eye out for it. You could call it another take on "Antonia's Flowers"...

  2. Your point about how "fresh" means somethng different to you and your friend are very interesting! The word instantly brings to my mind household cleaners and sandwich bags, no thanks to advertising!

    I wonder how different the responses would be if you asked several people what fragrance brings to mind the word "fresh"?

    Antonia sounds like a beauty. Your phrase "It feels like it's blooming on my skin" makes me want to smell it!

  3. Ines,

    Isn't it gorgeous? I loved your review!

    Like you, I wouldn't describe Antonia as fresh (I think of it more as "tender"), which is why I love how you re-framed the word, saying "I realized later that this is what fresh must have smelled like in historical romance. Classic, soft, green and flowery." Oh, yes! I'll bet that's what she meant, and in that sense, it does fit!

  4. FS, I'm glad if I could make you get an inclination of how it smells. Suzanne is quite right (and her review is excellent, if you haven't read it yet) when she said it was tender. That is a really good way of putting it.

  5. JoanElaine, you are right, I was actually a bit surprised to realize that fresh is not the same to everyone. :)
    If I managed to convey a wish to try this, I'm glad because even if you don't like (although I find that hard), it is definitely worth as having in your olfactory memory.

  6. Suzanne, I read your review as soon as it got out and just about the time I was smelling Antonia for the first time. So I had to wait a bit for it to disappear slightly from my mind because it was really good (I keep thinking you should write novels, you write so very well) - and I felt my review wasn't going to come even close to describing Antonia as yours did.
    Tender really is an apt word for describing Antonia. :) I can't wait to smell what next comes from the Ms. Buzantian's lab. :)

  7. Ooh. Green? Bitter? Ooh. And again, ooh.

    And now you have me thinking about "fresh". I think that for me, fresh may involve green notes, or some of the volatile notes - that is, notes that smell like something that might catch fire if you touched a match to them. Absinthe, maybe.

  8. CF, that's really interesting how you see fresh. :) That is a bit of a problem when different people think of one thing, it turns out we might all be seeing it slightly different.
    I find your "catching fire" idea quite intriguing. :)