“Psychedelic: my great patchouli fragrance, dark and smoky, ambered, generous and opulent… Even the rain and mud of Woodstock won’t wash it away.”
How many times have you let yourself be taken by surprise and found yourself enticed by a fragrance wafting from a café terrace, captivated by scent of a secret garden — or perhaps beguiled by an unforgettable perfume worn by a stranger in a crowd? And how many times have you secretly wished to be that anonymous stranger who captivates merely by virtue of a perfume?
Like perfectly formed exotic dancers, frangipani flowers engage in an elaborate, spellbinding choreography. As the enchantment takes hold, a plume of traditional chai tea perfects the charm. Ginger and cardamom set ablaze an irresistible cloud of milky, gourmand notes.
A spell in the guise of a perfume that murmurs Remember Me.
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