NORD DU NORD

From the open doors of the Orangerie, bright notes of green and golden citrus flow into the crisp morning air of the palace gardens.

Freshly broken twigs, spiced grasses and dark green nettles mark the path of the noble savage through the undergrowth of the wooded hills.

In the world of Freud, wood stands for sexual desire in general and the female bosom in particular. A milky fragrance that captures intimate skin feeling ⸺ with animalic and lactonic notes vibrating around a luscious woody core.

Within the silence of the sacred stone walls and smooth marble floors, flickering altar candles radiate hints of wax, ashes and chilled frankincense.

A fragrance as intangible as Klimt’s golden vision of the Elysian Fields: “an ideal realm, wherein alone we can find pure joy, pure happiness, pure love.” It wears like a subtle, immaterial cloak of bright light, verdant freshness and subdued florality.

In the cafés and parks along the grand boulevard, the dernier cri is the curiously soft and milky fragrance of an exotic plant with an outlandish name.