Bibliotheque de Parfum Sensual Rebellion

Description

Top Notes: Juniper berries, vanilla.
Middle Notes: Nutmeg, coriander.
Base: Musk, amber, wood, cedar, spices.

Fragrance Family: Sweet & Fruity

Gender: Female

Terraces of Parisian cafes with small tables standing close together. They attract with an idyllic picture. They are tempting with obscenely sensual aromas. Especially in the morning. When a city awakens, passion awakens here. The interweaving of sharp hot with soft, delicately crunchy, sprinkled with vanilla. Coffee and a croissant are sensual revolts that cannot be resisted. To chills. Like the fragrance Sensual rebellion from Bibliotheque de Parfum. The perfume is mesmerizing. Wraps with tenderness and completely paralyzes consciousness. Sensitive to trembling in the knees, to dizziness. Not recommended for infants, too hot.
The perfume architect was a rebel. He presented Sensual rebellion, not in the form of a perfume pyramid. He built the composition around the notes of vanilla and spices. All other accents were needed to emphasize the sensuality of the first ones. Seductive vanilla from the very first seconds lights up the eyes of those who get to know the fragrance. The rest of the notes are perceived through the prism of this sexuality. The Sensual rebellion train deserves the loudest compliments. He is divinely beautiful. Wear a fragrance when you can’t control your feelings. When you want to emphasize tenderness, hot attractiveness. Seduce him. Feel free to use this weapon. It’s enough to be on the bright side. It is much more interesting in the dark.

DEDICATED TO MARIE: Who was always the first to enter the bakery.
 
For a whole year, Thierry never knew where she went every morning or where she came back from. Always at eight o’clock, when there were no other customers and he was just starting to put fresh bread and brioche on the shelves, she would open the door, push the bell from above, smiling at the very corners of her lips, and ask for the same thing every time: “Could I have a cappuccino and a vanilla croissant, please?”. Wearing a green beret and lipstick the color of a pink June peony, she would take the order, take a bottle of spices from her purse and pour it into the glass in a single gesture, as if it were nothing out of the ordinary.
 
For a whole year, he never asked what the bottle contained: he could smell nutmeg, coriander, and something piney. When he began to guess what it could be, the door was closing behind her and only the last chords of the bell could be heard.