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Soho, London, 1985. After the club shuts down, the clubbers gather at the all-night patisserie for coffee, pastries and gossip. Everyone is crammed together in the queue, hot, sweaty, over-sprayed with heavy 80s perfumes. Chocolate croissants and cinnamon danish are being devoured. Nobody wants to go home alone.
Musc Ravageur is a warm, dressed-up vanilla pudding of a scent. It takes a couple of minutes for the pudding to emerge from a rich, erotic fog of hot animal, but (too) soon all that lusty funk vanishes and you are left with rich, dense cinnamon, vanilla and tonka which eventually turns to a sweet amber. On my skin it isn't structured or subtle and the patisserie middle is exhausting, but I do like the morning-after glow of the dry-down.
08th April, 2013 (Last Edited: 12th April, 2013)