The powdery scent of a Sunday morning, before the day begins
The scent of a Sunday morning, light filtering through the curtains. Powdery, warm, still half-asleep. A pear in the motionless air, a rose that hasn't made up its mind yet. And this musk, discreet, warm, quietly defiant, absorbed into linen that is still immaculate. Like a new day worn on the skin, before one has decided what to do with it.
Top notes: Pear Heart notes: Rose, Orris Base notes: Musk, Vanilla, Sandalwood
