Cinema (Eau D’Ete) by Yves Saint Laurent
Today, as well you know, is Day 21 of the Heapnose perfume diary, penned by Heapnose, for the exclusive use of the popular website http://www.heapnose.com, devised, written and edited by Heapnose. Day 21 finds your humble blogger in the throes of the summer fragrance season, suitably beguiled by popular spring/summer releases, from, amongst others Balenciaga, Giorgio Armani, and…Jennifer Aniston, and finding herself as ever, swayed by a more classic pallet, a reputable parfumeur, and an impressive track record of not being shit . Swayed too, by the fact that I received your Cinema (Eau D’Ete) for nothing, from an employee of the sister of an online fragrance distributor. (Yes, Yves, they’re giving away your scents. Never fear, it’s probably just a blip. We’re all feeling the effects of the recession.)
Might I be so bold as to presume therefore, that in light of the inclement economic climate, some cutting of the proverbial corners has occured chez vous? How else to explain the advent of Cinema (Eau D’Ete) by Yves Saint Laurent a scent which is, to all intents and purposes an exact replica of Cinema by Yves Saint Laurent, but is one part fragrance to three parts water?
I have traditionally enjoyed Cinema by Yves Saint Laurent – a scent which, i am reliably informed has since been discontinued . Tom Ford’s fusion of floral and oriental offset by a powdery base is a commendable melange, and one which a trail of disciples have failed to emulate with any degree of success (Klein – you dick). Although, in truth, Tom Ford could happily fuse axel grease with sheep shit and I would gladly snap up his fragrant offering. That guy is smoking hot.
Yves, I get it, I really do. It’s been a tough year for all of us. But when a High Street store can cobble together a longer lasting summer replica of your own fragrance (“Theatre!”) and (“Summer Theatre”) than you yourself can muster, I fear you’re in trouble my friend. Which is why I’ve banished you to the bedroom. I’ll stick with you Yves, we’ll ride out the storm together, but only between the sheets. You’re a great combatant to the dreaded “fake tan on pyjamas” problem, and a nifty little distraction from my partner’s “summer feet” but we will never go on a date, I’m not going to introduce you to my girlfriends, and you will never meet my mother.
Come on Yves, I mean, you must have seen this coming. I dragged you along to church last week, but let’s face it, you weren’t really “there”. And I think we both knew that I was taking someone else to the Baftas…someone who could stick with me all night, fill a gap in conversation, and stay for breakfast the morning after.
Sorry Yves, that’s what you get for being cheap. It’s a valuable lesson.
Luv and Hugs 😉