Œillères L'Objet Parfumant is an anomaly in the panoply of insults the modern perfume market throws at us every single day.
Nothing seem haphazardly tossed in Œillères and yet it feels like an experiment. Nothing metamorphoses into something else, as it doesn't transition much, all the action scenes happen simultaneously throughout its lifespan and although it's fairly linear, it's larger than life. Once it gets its carnival tricks out, there's no turn around, Dorothy, you are trapped watching the whole freak show! And freak was never more fascinating! My nose, hand in hand, with the imagination were stirred by everything and at the same time.
I must admit i felt threatened more than once while wearing it and i slipped under its control, feeling i was cheating my perfume taste with its rudeness. Too feral, maybe. Our closeness didn't come easy nor natural. We had to tame each other. Œillères is not a fragrance for leisure or business or dinner with friends. It's for those primitive moments, when one fully shows themselves, undressed of secrets and socially-forced masks.
If of anything, Œillères reminds me of the smell of an old kitchen, in the outdoors, where aromatic herbs were drained of life down-facing on hemp ropes, where flowers of chamomile died on old paper sheets and a broom, ghosting the corner, was the dust' secret hideout. Of rotten matter and greasy skin sweating to vapor heat.