Opens sharp, an oily floral zest of citrus, then sweetens to lemon cake close on the skin.
Slowly settles into wet vetiver and marigolds, and forest floor violets that bloom long and loud, a foot off the body for hours.
Lingers for days with an odd minty amber after bite–like arctic lake water.
I don’t get an African ball in Paris from this, but I’ve never been to one.
A bit of Jazz Age (sorta.)