Sissy Suzanne

Lots of tales accompany Jicky by Guerlain. Not all of them are true. The latest however, that the newer edition is to die for, is undoubtedly veracious. I can attest to it, because I personally help spread the news whenever I can, so smitten was I when I first tried it. I bought it very soon after launch and put it to good use every day since. It is accompanying me through the autumn months not yet cold, although certainly not hot either.

The book by Gabe Oppenheim, The Ghost Perfumer, published last year, seems to have been aimed at stripping the veils: its main thesis is that the whole dynasty of perfumers with the surname Creed, originating supposedly in 1760, is a fiction from the first to the last word. Creeds have never been perfumers, and the brand owes much of its success to the talent of Pierre Bourdon, who created many great fragrances for the brand (until he retired).

I was overjoyed to receive the new perfume by Caron, Tabac Blanc. When hastily unpacking it, going through the rustling tissue sealed by the brand's logo, the word fucking appeared. I wonder what age the new Caron target is? Not only is this language now approved by the historic French house, but the stylization of childish colorful crayon writing makes me terribly uncomfortable. Your thoughts? The visual introduction tremendously affected my will to review the fragrance.