The scent of Nuxe reve de miel is real. It really smells like a three-liter glass full of honey. Like the one that we had at home in the pantry once upon a time. When I was little, I remember it was a very heavy glass and it was necessary to handle it carefully. At that time, honey was gifted as a reward, or for help, for mowing the garden, for the journey to the city, or just like that, and it was straight from the real bees and the beekeeper. And there was no honey from shops with a price tag and a label. It was real, unadulterated honey. It was used to sweeten tea. A drop of lemon was added, and whoever wanted and was of legal drinking age added a drop of rum, pouring on bread and butter, slowly running from the bread to fingers and clinging to everything around. Honey was served together with Christmas wafers and slowly, over time, in the jar, it crystallized. We melted it in hot water and returned it to the form of liquid gold.
I owe you a review of some Nuxe product. And I don’t even know if I could call it a review as such or not. Or will a swarm of bees and a swarm of thoughts fly through my head again and I will hardly catch one? And I’ll go… above the flower garden, near where I live. It’s such a lively restaurant for beetles, butterflies, and bees. And if you just saw it, you’d want to go into that high grass with diverse, and the multicolored flowers, you would love to just lie down and forget everything, including time and un-usual worries, and hear nothing but those traveling beetles and butterflies and flying buzzing bees.
I wanted to enter that garden once. There was a bit of a lot of naivety in me. What if I can pick a few flowers there? What if I can for five francs for five minutes to lie down on this grass? What if I can? So I looked around the farm for a piggy bank and held it tightly in my sweaty palms. I walked around the garden, didn’t tear off the flowers, didn’t find the money box. But anyways, in me, something is left. It is big.
The garden was there yesterday just for the eyes, so I can remember it at any time. In all of the world’s colors. With all the possible flowers, for traveling beetles, butterflies, and buzzing bees in flight…
I open the flacon and what happens? I’m there again. I’ll close the flacon. I open the flacon and I’m there again. In fact, I’ve only seen the garden once, but I keep coming back to it in my imagination. After each opening of the flacon, I think that if I apply as little as a drop of Nuxe Reve de miel fragrant water on my neck, maybe some bee will fly to me straight from that garden. One would be enough for me. The curious and courageous one. There doesn’t have to be a queen. It’s enough if she doesn’t sting me. She will fly around my ear, turn around my body twice, scan me, and land on my shoulder. As such, a live brooch. I’ll want to take her home or just walk around the city and look proud and smile and say thank you kindly for every compliment I’ll get for that live brooch. Thanks, thanks, oh thanks. And the bee just buzzes its bzzz.
The scent of Nuxe reve de miel is real. It really smells like a three-liter glass full of honey. Like the one that we had at home in the pantry once upon a time. When I was little, I remember it was a very heavy glass and it was necessary to handle it carefully. At that time, honey was gifted as a reward, or for help, for mowing the garden, for the journey to the city, or just like that, and it was straight from the real bees and the beekeeper. And there was no honey from shops with a price tag and a label. It was real, unadulterated honey. It was used to sweeten tea. A drop of lemon was added, and whoever wanted and was of legal drinking age added a drop of rum, pouring on bread and butter, slowly running from the bread to fingers and clinging to everything around. Honey was served together with Christmas wafers and slowly, over time, in the jar, it crystallized. We melted it in hot water and returned it to the form of liquid gold.
And today, when I come to the store, I see honey on sale, honey like this and like that, and neither is it real nor does it remind me of the time when honey was poured on bread and butter. It will never be the same honey I remember growing up with.
Don’t be fooled: Nuxe Reve de miel is not honey. But a fragrant water in a 100 ml flacon shaped like a honey bottle. Due to the scent, the name Reve de miel. Nuxe.
It was a bold step from Nuxe to create such a honey collection. But it was worth it. The scent is beautiful, nice and gentle. Can you imagine anyone telling you – she was as sweet as honey and even so, did she smell like it?
Dlžím vám recenziu jeden produkt od Nuxe. A neviem ani, či to bude recenzia ako taká alebo či mi zas preletí hlavou roj včiel a roj myšlienok a ja sa len sťažka chytím jednej. A pôjdem… ponad rozkvitnutú záhradu, blízko miesta, kde bývam. Je to taká živá reštaurácia pre všetky chrobáky, motýle a včely. A keby ste ju videli, chceli by ste sa do tej vysokej trávy s rôznorodými a rôznofarebnými kvetmi len tak zvaliť a zabudnúť na všetko, vrátane času a ne-všedných starostí a nemyslieť a nepočuť nič, len tie cestujúce chrobáky a mľaskajúce motýle a poletujúce bzučiace usilovné včely.
Chcela som raz do tej záhrady vojsť. Našlo sa vo mne kus poriadnej naivity a pomyslela som si, čo ak…
Čo ak si tam môžem pár kvetov do vázy natrhať. Čo ak si do tej trávy môžem za päť frankov na päť minút ľahnúť. Čo ak môžem. Hľadala som teda v okolí farmy kasičku a v spotenej dlani pevne držala päťfrankovku. Obišla som záhradu, nenašla kasičku, neodtrhla ani kvet. Ale aj napriek tomu vo mne niečo ostalo. Bolo to veľké.
Tá záhrada tam bola včera len pre oči, aby som si na ňu mohla kedykoľvek spomenúť. Na všetky tie farby sveta. Na všetky možné kvety sveta. Na cestujúce chrobáky a na mľaskajúce motýle a poletujúce bzučiace usilovné včely…
Otvorím sklenený flakón a čo sa nestane. Som tam zas. Zavriem flakón. Otvorím flakón. V skutočnosti som tú záhradu videla len raz, ale vo svojich predstavách sa tam vďaka flakónu vraciam neustále.
Premýšľam, že ak nanesiem čo len kvapku parfémovanej vody Nuxe Reve de miel na krk, možno priletí aj nejaká včela priamo zo záhrady. Stačila by mi jedna jediná. Zvedavá a odvážna. Nemusí byť žiadna kráľovná krásy. Stačí, ak ma nepichne. Preletí okolo môjho ucha, obletí dvakrát okolo môjho tela, oskenuje ma a pristane na ramene, ako taká živá brošňa. Budem si ju chcieť odniesť domov, alebo sa len tak pošpacírovať po meste a tváriť sa pritom pyšne a usmiať sa a poďakovať za každý kompliment, ktorý za tú živú brošňu dostanem. Ďakujem, ďakujem, ó ďakujem. A včela len zabzučí svoje bzzz.
Vôňa Nuxe Reve de miel je naozajstná. Naozaj vonia ako trojlitrové sklo plné medu. Presne také, aké sme mali doma v špajzi kedysi dávno. Keď som bola malá. Bolo to ťažké sklo a manipulovalo sa s ním veľmi opatrne. Vtedy sa ešte medy rozdávali za odmenu, alebo za pomoc, za pokosenie záhrady, za cestu do mesta, alebo len tak a boli priamo od naozajstných včiel a včelára. A nebol to žiadny med z druhej ruky, s nalepenou cenovkou a gýčovou etiketou. Nebol to žiadny presladený fejk. Ale pravý nefalšovaný med. Sladil sa ním čaj a pridala sa kvapka citrónu a kto chcel a mal na to vek, tak aj kvapka rumu, lial sa na chlieb s maslom, pomaly stekal z chleba na prsty a lepil sa na všetko dookola, natieral sa na vianočné oplátky a nešetrilo sa ním v medovníkovom ceste a časom pomaly kryštalizoval. Roztápali sme ho v horúcej vode a vracali mu podobu skleneného tekutého zlata.
A dnes keď prídem do obchodu, vidím med v akcii, med taký a hentaký a ani jeden nie je naozajstný a ani jeden mi nepripomína ten čas, keď sa lial med na chlieb s maslom. Napríklad.
Ale nie o mede som chcela.
Nuxe Reve de miel nie je med, nenechajte sa zmiasť. Ale parfumovaná voda v 100 mililitrovom sklenenom flakóne, ktorý nepripomína vzhľadom nič iné, ako fľašu medu. Vzhľadom, vôňou, názvom. Reve de miel. Nuxe.
Bol to odvážny krok od Nuxe vrhnúť sa do takejto medovej kolekcie. Ale oplatilo sa. Vôňa je to krásna. Milá a nežná. Viete si predstaviť, že niekto o vás povie bola sladká ako med a ešte tak aj voňala?
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