Some perfumes get admiration above all exposing a star raw material to the point they are commonly renamed as "the Vetiver" or "the Rose". Other ones have the power to take us immediately to another place, a situation or a state of mind. Few dare one more step deeply trespassing the realm of senses: this way a perfume becomes colour, texture and sound living in multiple dimensions, filling the space like a sculpture. Neela Vermeire is among them and without falling into easy temptations, she has piled up in a few years a personal collection of olfactory gems.
|Udaipur City Palace and Pichola Lake|
|George Hoyningen-Huene for Vogue, July 1930|
Once beyond the surface, light becomes mellow while you slowly soak in a bunch of neroli and sundrenched flowers winking to the sensual exoticism of Chaldeans, sons of the sun, so chic in the thirties. The dazzling white marbles of Udaipur fade away while the dense gloom like a womb shrouds you in the motherly sandalwood sap, one step over the troubling souding of earthy tuberose. Pichola has average sillage and good lasting power and after many hours you still get soft woody echoes, mystical as the ascetics murmurs and langurous like the swish of Nautch girls silks.
The review is based on a sample gift from Neela Vermeire Creations.
|Nautch girls (1862)|