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Parisian Winter in a bottle, gloomy, dark and brooding, a little stand-offish, but irresistibly elegant and unforgettable. Bought quite a few bottles of EN, the thick viscous sensation of cedar, vanilla and the oh so moreish licorice/immortelle note just suits me. I like it's 'blackness', its scented despair. There is a void to it, a bitter echo that wraps around the wearer. Melancholy is rare today in scent, but the Hedi Slimane inspired Eau Noire is an exercise in Proustian melancholia. We all have days when we crave our own company, the comfort of self-indulgent sadness, to be lost in memories, to touch away a tear in a stricken eye. Eau Noire is the glowering sky above us, the fevered brow, the closing door. Wear with an ache in your heart.
13th April, 2010