MISIA CHANEL: PERFUME LITERATURE
The love of exploring scents goes beyond the spray of a bottle. A perfume lover indulges all senses to live the legends of perfume notes. A complete story in each level the notes fold. The Perfume Literature series will be exclusive to some selected perfumes of my collection.
“Smell is a word, Perfume is literature”
Note: What comes below this line has an extra literature dosage, use all your senses to absorb the moment, hold it close so you can see it, then let it evaporate in the air to smell its beauty.
MISIA CHANEL
She wakes up to a sound coming from the cafe terrace down her window, a white grand piano playing her favourite, her melody; Rêverie by Claude Debussy. She opens the large windows letting the breeze in, with the traveling melodies, inhaling as she breathes-in the morning! She knows this is the day, her big performance. Her heart smiles.
Le Meurice, soft melodies, shaded terrace, partially cloudy day in Paris, she closes her eyes, sipping her café crème, aware of all eyes staring at her, yet living the moment. The notes of the piano goes higher, a strong fresh smell of the bouquet arranged in the crystal vase in the centre of the table. The May roses embracing the irises and violet with a hint of the Rouge Allure on her lips!
Not aware of time she runs in a hurry holding the umbrella to protect her hairdo, the white beads are swinging from her dress while she runs. The Parisian-half-circled-blocks shines under the rain, the smell of the wet trees and soil comes and goes as she runs by.
Large glass-squared windows, floor to ceiling, inviting the lazy light of the day to the room. She laces-up the straps of her delicate satin ballet shoes, stands under the coned-yellow light hanging from the ceiling and holds her hands up while her whole body follows with graceful movements. Imagining the evening and crowded theatre, she is ready, she touches the ground again after a swirling short moment in the air.
The Dying Swan, the feathery dress shifts as she glides and tiptoes. Like a swan ready to fly into the air she feathers her hands up and down, full of grace. Ready to leave everything behind, starts new, ready to love and to live. To live to the full, to live with all her being, to live for herself, to live! A strong resistance holds her down, pulling her each time she is about to depart, it is strong, stronger than she is, she fails to resist, she surrenders, she lets go, she falls and touches to ground.
A round of applause.
