Have you every walked past a window, thinking that it was a mirror? You're expecting to see your reflection, but you see something entirely different. It takes a second or two for your mind to marry up your expectation and what's actually in front of your eyes.
I had a similar experince when I first tested Orange Sanguine. I poured a few drops onto my wrist. The initial hit of orange juice was so powerful and evocative that I expected the liquid to be orange and pithy. It took me a second or two to remember that I wasn't pouring orange juice onto my skin.
You probably don't want to smell like Sunny D. However the initial smell fades very quickly to something altogether more sophisticated. It's leafy and green and lets me dream that I'm sitting in an orange grove.
I don't drink orange juice, or any juice for that matter. It makes me feel too unwell. I rarely eat oranges as it's too much of a faff. In fact, I really don't have much affection for oranges at all. There seems something deeply toxic about them. The colour's too bright. The fruit is much too sharp and acidic.
When I first heard about Orange Sanguine, I didn't think it was going to be for me. However, the smell is intense and voluptuous. Whereas lemons are fresh, zesty and enlivening, oranges are the more complicated elder sister. Orange Sanguine combines the smell of the fruit and the juice and the leafy orange tree.
I've only got a teeny tiny sample size of Orange Sanguine, but I'm tempted to invest in a full size bottle. It will allow me to dream of sitting in an orange grove in southern Spain this summer.
The perfumer for Orange Sanguine is Ralf Schwieger. He also created Frederic Malle's Lipstick Rose and Hermes Eau des Merveilles. They both sound very different to Orange Sanguine, but this perfumer may be one to watch.