Chanson de Nuit by Coty

@Lux, I think you might be mixing this up with Chanson Magique; this one is from the Nuit line. I agree that Eau Jeune and Chanson were the best brands. It feels like the magic is disappearing from perfumes; back then, it sparked your imagination on the shelves, in ads, and on bottles, and we’d enjoy natural notes with friends, making each one a unique world. Now, even though there are amazing scents, the vibe is the opposite (and the magic isn’t just lost here; it seems like not everyone wants to stand up to this absurdity). I absolutely love Chanson de Nuit; it’s rare: aquatic, fresh, and floral with notes you can’t quite identify. It’s not super floral or overly citrusy; I detect a delicate white flower, the kind that smells stronger at night (not necessarily jasmine), with ozonic aquatic touches and a shy, unripe white blossom, like a night-blooming flower or young jasmine. Very 90s, rare, and one-of-a-kind. No current perfume even comes close because today’s florals aren’t as natural, real, delicate, nocturnely sibilant, and yet innocent. I don’t know what’s in these aquatic fragrances that reminds you of the quiet of night, but you’d wear them during the day too. The more sprays I get, the more hypnotized and drawn in I feel, bringing mixed images of memories and imagination, all nocturnal, filled with stillness, mystery, tranquility, and background music. I dose it sparingly since it’s vintage and nearly impossible to find. I admit I was hooked by its crystal-clear nocturnal vibe and that silver moon on blue. I bought it for the sake of it; I only ever had Chanson d’Eau (and only in my mind, based on the ad; the one I actually had wasn’t even the original). I consider myself more vintage than I am because I love the era I was born in, though I enjoyed it too much as a baby. My first cologne was Snoopy and Sparkles, and I wasn’t that little yet; after that, my teenage firsts were Eau Jeune, Agua de Vida, Bombón… before that, I didn’t use anything I chose myself. It’s all thanks to my brutal photographic memory: ads, my mom, my aunt, olfactory memories… Chansons are unique; why don’t unique and special perfumes come back?