OE FRUSTRATION 100ML (Eau de Parfum) - FREE STATE OF ORANGE (Paris)

Spicy, Woody

Frustration, a perfume to awaken the solid child in the fragile adult or awaken the fragile child in the too solid adult, for a journey in regression to the land dominated by vanilla, rum and vetiver.

Top notes: Cumin HE, Cinnamon HE, Pure Rum Jungle Essence™
Heart notes: Pure Vanilla Jungle Essence™, Vanilla Absolute, Cistus Absolute
Base notes: Chestnut Wood Accord, Bourbon Vetiver HE, Vinyl Gaiacol – MANE Biotech

And Frustration is what we need my friend.
By Vanilla I remain.

FULL DESCRIPTION
A perfume like a mixture. A mixture like miscellaneous which collide between words and materials to explain a little, without explaining too much, the why of a perfume. Frustration.

It was in summer a few years ago, in Barcelona while walking on the Ramblas, I was listening to the song by Rare Bird, an English progressive rock group from the 70s, the song was called Sympathy and the chorus said “and sympathy is what you need my friend, and sympathy is what you need my friend cause there's not enough love to go round, No, there's not enough love to go round…” And there suddenly rich with a whole psychoanalytic past according to Lacan, this same past which is sometimes my strength over others, sometimes my great weakness over myself, emerging from the refrain a word stronger than sympathy plants its black flag of melancholy in the heart of my mind, a word fairer, more vast, more true, more sincere, more useful since forged from life experience: FRUSTRATION. And then sing again in my head the substituted chorus “…And frustration is what you need my friend, and frustration is what you need my friend. »

Frustration, eldest daughter of renunciation and sister of perfume since perfume proceeds like frustration in the game of love, it gives by resuming, a satiety never satisfied, an enjoyment started but never completed, an infinite movement of desire without completion, without apotheosis , an instillation that excites, seduces, rocks, dominates and annoys like a Ravel Bolero. Frustration.

So take a vanilla pod, a garden rose with turgid red petals, an old rum full of amber woods, a bourbon vetiver, bring each of these materials to your senses between your mouth and nose. Frustration.

Breathe, taste the circulation of incredible saps, delectable but never sufficient fermentation where one asks for more, all nostrils out, ... "Again, again, let us take your freckles more deeply, and become this animal with the deaf brain of the child who wants to enjoy and devour more of this chestnut wood, this cinnamon or this vetiver until it bursts and then bathe satiated in the poem of the smell." Frustration.

This is the game of perfume lovers, this is the game of love according to Musset, Shakespeare or Racine. And that's so much the better because satiety kills while desire brings life by creating movement through the always renewed distance so as to never consume like a murderous ogre. Frustration.

Happy are the consumers of desire, unhappy are the consumers of enjoyment.

Frustration, a perfume to awaken the solid child in the fragile adult or awaken the fragile child in the too solid adult, a perfume for a journey in regression to the land dominated by vanilla, rum and vetiver.

A state of Extraordinary Orange that you must reach to live passionately between the child and the adult the memory of a lack.