Eris Perfumes – The Alembicated Genie

Brave

– Scent Semantics nr. 1

Brave, adj. – to display courage.

Courage in the face of adversity, courage to claim agency, courage to do YOU. Even if you feel as small as a dormouse, even when the world conspires against you, courage to claim your turf and be – BRAVE.

Courage to claim agency and be BRAVE – and wear Serge Lutens Chêne. Wrap up warm in your most non-conformist, unconventional self, go!

Go! Go and dare to do it anyway, dare to say “get out of my way”, go to defy the naysayers, the trolls, the party poopers, the rain on your parade and be BRAVE in your …

Cloud of ancient woody-green oak and an oaken barrel of rum stashed in the shadows, liquid courage – but not too much, lest you lose your impetus and your way in that dark, dense old forest of naysayers. They are not your tree, not this tree in a fairy-tale forest, not your tribe who make your primordial sap rise a tide of brave that says YES, you can do this, YES, you got this, YES – this is YOURS and you will NOT apologize, not conform to a standard, not listen to that tinny, razor saw-edge voice in your head that seethes and whispers “Don’t!” and “Can’t!” You can – you are an oak that has stood your test of time and withstood centuries of gales, you are strong and mighty, you carry the spirit of Balanos with you where you live and where you breathe. The wind will pass through your branches, the rain will soak your roots, you will creak and groan in the howling winds of life, but you are alive, but you will, you must, you have no other choice but

To be BRAVE.

Courage to defy those who would oppose you with your own brand of resistance and be BRAVE – and wear Eris Perfumes’ Green Spell. Give ‘em all a living, breathing, green jungle hell on a platter with your sillage, glow like a poison green beacon in the dark, and go ahead – dare them to defy YOU. You are BRAVE, covered in otherworldly forest flowers, wafting danger, wanting that knife-edge bloom of desire that pulses underneath the trees, take that green rush of daring, the Halloween glow that declares danger to the world if it denies you your place, your spirit, your right to exist. The naysayers shall not pass this bridge of BRAVE, you will break them, you will invoke your ancient powers and call upon the mojo you call all your own, you will cast this Green Spell and throw caution to the wind, let them talk, let them wonder, let them snigger behind your back, you have all your power and your spell on your skin, writ large in all the thousand shades of rumble jungle green. Let the parrots in their vivid plumes chatter on the cliffs, let the condors soar above it, let the monkeys down below shriek on their branches to the skies for all the world to know and to hear

that you are BRAVE.

Courage to claim your turf, courage to always be who you are, courage to kick all convention to the curb and be BRAVE enough to wear vintage Paloma Picasso Mon Parfum. Paloma may well claim it but she is a Picasso, and who would deny her or her talents? You claim your own and cement them in this audacious rosy chypre, you wear it when you need to act, you need to do, you need to knock down the fences and be as BRAVE as only you would dare. And should they deny you, should they defy you, your leather castoreum oakmoss-soaked whip will smack them across the noses of all those bland, unscented conformist faces. You stake your claims to the multiverse every day you live, every time you breathe, every time you manifest your presence, your ideas, your right to do YOU, every time you wear ton parfum, and by Golly is it YOURS, y-o-u-r perfume that states everywhere you go, on all the world’s biggest neon-lit billboards, with blood-red Bulgarian roses and oakmoss, with leather and castoreum, with the capital C in Chypre, that you of all people, you of all creatures, you, yes, YOU on your tiny, blue-green world, you in your rosy, smoky-smexy-leathery candlelit corner …

You will be, now, tomorrow, in all your futurities

You will be BRAVE.