BEAUTY: Sisley Paris | eau de parfum Izia la Nuit | Memento

She took a deep breath, as if it were the last time. And forever. As if she wanted to remember it. That moment, all that belongs to the moment and the moment itself. That place. That address. That house. And if there were tears of happiness, they still flood today. If there were flowers, they still scents in her office. And while some have withered and the leaves have fallen from the flowers on the table, it doesn’t matter. They’re just waiting for them to be tidy. If she wanted to… If there was a clock, it ticked quietly on her pale hand and only showed her insignificant time. If there was a dress, it waved as she walked. If there were shoes, they said come and she went. Through the street, the forest, the meadow, the landscape, the morning, the day, the evening and the night, along the Milky Way, on the planet X178459 and they led it even further. If there was a scent, it would be scented like a road. It was a long journey and lasted up to one endless breath.

She took a deep breath, as if it were the last time. And forever. As if she wanted to remember it. That moment, all that belongs to the moment and the moment itself. That place. That address. That house. And if there were tears of happiness, they still flood today. If there were flowers, they still scents in her office. And while some have withered and the leaves have fallen from the flowers on the table, it doesn’t matter. They’re just waiting for them to be tidy. If she wanted to… If there was a clock, it ticked quietly on her pale hand and only showed her insignificant time. If there was a dress, it swinged as she walked. If there were shoes, they said come and she went. Through the street, the forest, the meadow, the landscape, the morning, the day, the evening and the night, along the Milky Way, on the planet X178459 and they led it even further. If there was a scent, it would be scented like a road. It was a long journey and lasted up to one endless breath. 

In translation, it was like this. Once at work, someone rang the doorbell. It was someone from Sisley Paris personally. I still don’t know the name because I wasn’t looking for it and this question will bother me for the rest of my life if I don’t have it answered once. Because I can worry about things like that. And I am good in it.  

She said… Emilia?  Reportedly such a perfume should not be sent just by mail, it deserves more, it deserves a journey, it deserves a look in the eyes, a handshake, a thank you, it deserves flowers. Beautiful flowers. A whole bouquet of flowers. 

Outside it was freezing, so much snow that many children had never seen so much of it in years… and some children that still didn’t know what a snowman is finally could see it. And flowers in a bag. Yes, I cried a bit. There are things and events that you do not expect, and when they happen, they are immensely pleasing, exciting, your classic working day becomes stress-free, beautiful, great and this feeling lasts for days, or stay in you forever. As… I pulled flowers out of the gift bag, put them in a vase, gave them fresh water, and laid them on the desk in the office. They are still there today. I have them between the phone and the monitor. Only one rose obstructs my view of the monitor, but I don’t mind at all. I want her to bother me. I want her there. It’s her place. I couldn’t find a better place. I still have it in front of my eyes. 

I have pulled out a gold paper that had another surprise hidden. A black box decorated with golden sparkles. A perfume in a box. I immediately opened it, carefully pulled the bottle out of it. A beautiful, heavy, black lacquered glass bottle with a translucent white cap, designed in 2017 by Bronislaw Krzysztof and redesigned by Quentin Jones today. It is not comparable to anything I know or have seen, and its shape is indescribable in my words, but if I were to go to the limit of my verbal possibilities, I would name it a meteorite. A meteorite, that became a stone washed by a river. I squeezed the little pump and Izia la Nuit immediately came out of this silent bottle into the room. It was a surprise. It was something new. It was her big moment. It was an experience. It was a feeling. This feeling scented fresh, fragranted with roses, fruits, mandarins and bergamot, freesia and magnolia, patchouli and vanilla. And yes, it scented like a journey.

Zhlboka sa nadýchla, akoby to malo byť poslednýkrát. A navždy. Akoby si to chcela zapamätať. Ten moment, to všetko, čo k momentu a momentu patrí. To miesto. Tá adresa. Ten dom. A ak tam boli slzy, šťastia, tak tečú ešte dnes. Ak tam boli kvety, rozvoniavajú v jej kancelárii dodnes. A síce niektoré uschli a lupene opadali z kvetov na stôl, nevadí. Len čakajú kým ich uprace. Keby chcela… Ak tam boli hodiny, potichy tikajú na jej doráňanej bledej ruke a ukazujú len akýsi nepodstatný čas. Ak tam boli šaty, viali počas chôdze. Ak tam boli topánky, povedali poď a ona šla. Ulicou, lesom, lúkou, krajinou, ránom, dňom, večerom a nocou, po mliečnej dráhe, na planétu X178459 a viedli ju ešte ďalej. Ak tam bola vôňa, voňala ako cesta. Bola to dlhá cesta a trvala až jeden nekonečný nádych.  

V preklade to bolo takto. Raz v práci niekto zazvonil u dverí. Bol to niekto zo Sisley Paris osobne. Dodnes neviem meno, pretože som po ňom nepátrala a táto otázka ma bude trápiť do konca života, ak ju nebudem mať raz zodpevedenú. Pretože ja sa viem trápiť nad takýmito vecami. A ide mi to dokonale.  

Povedala… Emília? Vraj  takýto parfém sa nepatrí posielať len tak poštou, zaslúži si viac, zaslúži si cestu, zaslúži si pohľad do očí, podanie do rúk, poďakovanie, zaslúži si kvety. Krásne kvety. Celú kyticu kvetov. Naozaj som si pripadala akoby mi priniesla kvety Maruška zo starej slovenskej rozprávky O dvanástich mesiačikoch, kde ju zlá macocha vyhnala do sveta, aby jej v zime priniesla živé kvety…  

Vonku mrazivo, snehu toľko, čo mohé deti roky alebo nikdy nevideli a dodnes nevedeli, čo je to snehuliak. A v taške kvety. Áno, poplakala som si od dojatia. Sú veci a udalosti, ktoré neočakávate, a keď sa stanú, tak neskutočne potešia, nadchnú, urobia z vašeho klasického pracovného dňa plného stresu jeden náramný deň alebo hneď niekoľko dní, alebo vo vás ostanú navždy. Tak ako…  Vytiahla som z tašky kvety, vložila do vázy, dala im čerstvú vodu, položila v kancelárii na stôl. Sú tam ešte dnes. Mám ich medzi telefónom a monitorom. Jena ruža mi prekáža vo výhľade na monitor, ale mne to vôbec nevadí. Chcem aby mi mi vadila. Chcem aby tam bola. Je to jej miesto. Lepšie by som nenašla. Mám ju stále pred očami.  

Vybrala som zlatý papier, ktorý ukrýval ďalšie prekvapenie. Čiernu krabičku so zlatým zdobením. V krabičke parfém. Okamžite som ju otvorila, vytiahla som z nej opatrne flakón. Krásny, ťažký, čierny lakovaný sklenený flakón, s priesvitným bielym uzáverom, ktorý navrhol v roku 2017 Bronislaw Krzysztof a ktorý dnes prepracovala Quentin Jones. Nie je prirovnateľný ničomu, čo poznám, alebo som videla a jeho tvar je mojimi slovami nepopísateľný, ale ak by som mala ísť na hranicu svojich slovných možností, pomenovala by som ho meteoritom.  Stlačila som pumpičku flakónu, a v kancelárii sa okamžite rozvoniala Izia la Nuit. Bolo to prekvapenie. Bolo to nové. Bol to moment. Bol to zážitok. Bol to pocit. Ten pocit voňal sviežo, voňal ružami, ovocím, mandarinkami a bergamottom, fresiou a magnóliou, patchouli a vanilkou. A áno, voňal cestou.