Summer is a questionable time for smells, a time when things rot and stink and betray themselves. Cold no longer masks what is dying, what is past its prime; all the secrets leak pungent into the too-bright daylight. It's a difficult time for perfume. Here at the Dry Down we like to rebel against the accepted wisdom of summer scents, drawn toward grimy, dank ouds, sticky, resinous woods, and big, slutty florals that stink up the hot days. If summer is here, then let it sink in, let it be as disgusting as it really is, let's wallow in its all rot and bad manners, the street corners that smell like trash and the insidious block-long sillage of roses.
Perfume Diary: Fake Air (HF)
Perfume Diary: Fake Air (HF)
Perfume Diary: Fake Air (HF)
Summer is a questionable time for smells, a time when things rot and stink and betray themselves. Cold no longer masks what is dying, what is past its prime; all the secrets leak pungent into the too-bright daylight. It's a difficult time for perfume. Here at the Dry Down we like to rebel against the accepted wisdom of summer scents, drawn toward grimy, dank ouds, sticky, resinous woods, and big, slutty florals that stink up the hot days. If summer is here, then let it sink in, let it be as disgusting as it really is, let's wallow in its all rot and bad manners, the street corners that smell like trash and the insidious block-long sillage of roses.