Ever wonder what Van Goh's Wheatfield with a Cypress Tree would smell like if it could be distilled down to a scent? Yeah, neither have I. Silences eliminated that obscure little unknown for me, though. It was one of those odd instances where the answer came before the question - I smelled the original parfum de toilette, and was immediately transported to a secluded field in Arles, with its raw grasses fluttering in a cool April breeze. It was the closest I have ever come to a rapture.
I won't pontificate much on Silences because it's the nearest to perfection that a fragrance can get, and my descriptions and accolades cannot add to it. Yes, it's green, and a little floral, perhaps the High Priestess of verdant chypres. And yes, it's unisex, although Jacomo insists it's for women. Funnily enough, the bottle I purchased was in a narrow space between the men's and women's sections of the store, as if the shopkeeper wisely knew it belonged to neither demographic exclusively. Funny too, that I happened to try the reformulated version before the original parfum de toilette. I'm not sure what happened with Silences - the new one (in the black glossy box) smells like something straight out of the '70s, very dusty and heavy, while the older one (in the grey matte box) is smooth, airy, and timeless. What's the meaning of this? In the unlikely event that I ever meet a Jacomo insider, I shall ask him or her that very question. It niggles at me a little. The older version has a better bottle design - the black plastic cap lifts off the glass bottle and reveals a nice brass atomizer. The newer version is unwieldy because the atomizer is recessed into what used to be the cap, which means you have to hold the whole thing to spray. Also, they switched from glass to tin in the update, which is neither here nor there, except that I prefer a hefty chunk of glass over something in a plastic veneer. Just old-fashioned I guess.
Now, words . . . words can do no justice here. If you peruse the blogosphere, you'll encounter several apt descriptions for it. Just know that when people refer to perfume as an avenue of the sacred and divine, it's Silences they're talking about.
I won't pontificate much on Silences because it's the nearest to perfection that a fragrance can get, and my descriptions and accolades cannot add to it. Yes, it's green, and a little floral, perhaps the High Priestess of verdant chypres. And yes, it's unisex, although Jacomo insists it's for women. Funnily enough, the bottle I purchased was in a narrow space between the men's and women's sections of the store, as if the shopkeeper wisely knew it belonged to neither demographic exclusively. Funny too, that I happened to try the reformulated version before the original parfum de toilette. I'm not sure what happened with Silences - the new one (in the black glossy box) smells like something straight out of the '70s, very dusty and heavy, while the older one (in the grey matte box) is smooth, airy, and timeless. What's the meaning of this? In the unlikely event that I ever meet a Jacomo insider, I shall ask him or her that very question. It niggles at me a little. The older version has a better bottle design - the black plastic cap lifts off the glass bottle and reveals a nice brass atomizer. The newer version is unwieldy because the atomizer is recessed into what used to be the cap, which means you have to hold the whole thing to spray. Also, they switched from glass to tin in the update, which is neither here nor there, except that I prefer a hefty chunk of glass over something in a plastic veneer. Just old-fashioned I guess.
Now, words . . . words can do no justice here. If you peruse the blogosphere, you'll encounter several apt descriptions for it. Just know that when people refer to perfume as an avenue of the sacred and divine, it's Silences they're talking about.