One White Crow, from Fantôme was released at unknown year. The perfumer behind this creation is unknown. The notes are Honeysuckle, Ivy, Oakmoss, Tea, Vanilla, Violet.
Have you tried this fragrance?
Share your experience and help others discover great scents
One White Crow smells like the light of the moon and the long shadows it casts along a meandering path of tangled fern and creeping moss in a lost landscape, a place that no longer exists or that no longer exists as it did in your memory from some time before now. A place where violets bloom in reverse in the dusky glooms just before dawn, the silent yawning hour when dreams are most vivid and reality most fragile. It’s that ancient spill of grief, an aubade lamenting the eerie honeysuckle light of a world that’s tilted just a fraction off its axis, whose sun no longer shines in a way you recognize. And while, of course, the world has changed and the sunlight does gleam from a different angle, the scent is mostly the realization that it’s you, your own heart, that has become different, estranged. Estrange, to make oneself a stranger. This is the scent of all the yous you’ve lost. That you’ll never meet again. In the sunlight or the moonlight or any landscape at all.
One White Crow smells like the light of the moon and the long shadows it casts along a meandering path of tangled fern and creeping moss in a lost landscape, a place that no longer exists or that no longer exists as it did in your memory from some time before now. A place where violets bloom in reverse in the dusky glooms just before dawn, the silent yawning hour when dreams are most vivid and reality most fragile. It’s that ancient spill of grief, an aubade lamenting the eerie honeysuckle light of a world that’s tilted just a fraction off its axis, whose sun no longer shines in a way you recognize. And while, of course, the world has changed and the sunlight does gleam from a different angle, the scent is mostly the realization that it’s you, your own heart, that has become different, estranged. Estrange, to make oneself a stranger. This is the scent of all the yous you’ve lost. That you’ll never meet again. In the sunlight or the moonlight or any landscape at all.