Miu Miu: Let Us Spray
Imagine a boudoir. A boudoir from times past. The boudoir, say, of some golden-age-of-Hollywood starlet. It’s padded. Has padded walls. Not padded in a crazy-house sense, but padded in some tactile material. Literally, a strokable wall. And for the purposes of this, let’s say it’s padded in leather. A soft, pale-blue leather, pinched into soft folds, not entirely unlike the classic Miu Miu matelassé. There are hints of red in this boudoir. There’s a dressing table, in a rich, classic red lacquer, and a matching pouf, atop of which rests a white pillow. It’s the boudoir equivalent of the new Miu Miu fragrance, the bottle of which, with its matelassé effect, pale-blue glass bottle topped with a slither of white and abstract red stopper, feels very starlet-of-times-gone-by boudoir. A “vaguely remembered dream re-rendered in vivid Technicolour”. Notice the use of the word starlet. For despite the years-past analogy, this doesn’t smell of a 1940s starlet, all powdery and cloying. Like Miu Miu, it is young, playful and surprising. Natural notes of rose, jasmine and lily of the valley, underscored with patchouli and set against what are only described as synthetic green notes, all vying for attention and creating a veil of mystery when spritzed on the skin. They linger in the air. What is that scent, you wonder, when it unexpectedly enters your nasal passages, seemingly out of nowhere. The answer to which is Miu Miu.