Animalic Aromatic Floral Jasmine Oud Review Thoughts

Parfums Dusita: A Case Study, The Perfumes

December 16, 2016

 

If I were writing a book on how to make it big in niche perfumery, I’d make Dusita a headlining case study. Even the most casual observer of the niche sector would tell you that Pissara Umavijani, the founder of Parfums Dusita, is probably the most astonishing success story of 2016. The niche sector is thick with the self-taught, entrepreneurs, amateur mixologists, and mainstream brands masquerading as niche, but in 2016, Pissara came out of nowhere, swept them all aside, and went straight to the top end of the market, charging between €300 and €400 for a bottle, and completely getting away with it.

 

Whether the perfumes themselves are any good is almost beside the point. Truth be told, I am more impressed with Pissara Umavijani’s business strategy than the perfumes themselves, but both are worth looking at.

 

The first thing that Umavijani did right was to align herself immediately with the right partners. The niche and artisan sector is rife with self-taught perfumers, but results are not typically the high-end, polished luxury perfumes that command Roja Dove prices. In partnering up with a very good team at one of the best fragrance labs in Grasse, she was able to ensure that the product itself was as polished as a Bvlgari jewel. And all credit due here – Umavijani is clearly an excellent creative director, taking the time to push her team to produce perfumes that are not commercially safe as Roja Dove’s perfumes, but important, artistic efforts in their own right*.

 

*Important correction, dated 13/06/2017: The above paragraph hypothesizes that, due to the extraordinary polish of the first three perfumes, it was the Grasse partner lab that formulated the perfumes. However, Pissara has made it clear to me since then that she is the sole perfumer behind the brand, writes her own formulas, and only uses the Grasse partner, Accords et Parfums, for European & IFRA compliance checks. My apologies if my editorializing implied, or led others to infer, otherwise.

 

From a commercial point of view – branding, product placement, bottle design, graphic design, copy, distribution, and so on – it is also clear that Umavijani knows what she is doing. Every single detail is haute luxe. But the most important thing that Umavijani seems to have understood is this: people need to smell the product in order to enthuse about it. 90% of success in a crowded market such as niche perfumery is simply access. Umavijani set up a very generous sampling scheme whereby for the price of postage from Paris, you would receive three large deluxe samples of each of the perfumes, housed in simple but luxurious black decant bottles.

 

The sampling scheme ensured that as many people as possible got to smell the perfumes. Since the perfumes are very good indeed, people enthused about them online, and the word spread – suddenly the name of Dusita was everywhere on the Internet. It was a canny investment, and other niche companies looking to enter the market should look to this example.

 

Companies always gripe about the expense of sampling schemes. And yes, at first glance, they are loss leaders. But Umavijani (or an advisor) had a clear vision as to the precise dividends such a sampling scheme would eventually pay out in terms of brand recognition and customer valuation. Dusita’s sampling program must have cost thousands and thousands of euros, but it was no after-thought. It was a deliberate part of the strategy to get Dusita perfumes talked about in the community, and I bet a large portion of the operational budget was devoted to it.

 

The second thing that Umavijani did right was social media marketing. Social media engagement is a very tricky thing for niche and indie perfumers, and few get it entirely right. Too much chatter with perfume fans runs the risk of cheapening a brand, and too little wins you a reputation for standoffishness. You want to be available to answer questions and do post-sales follow-up, but it is also important for a brand in the luxury segment of the niche perfume market to preserve at least a little bit of mystique.

 

Umavijani is always present on social media, always checking to see if she needs to say thank you for a nice review or answer a comment. She has aligned herself with certain influencers and prominent bloggers to help magnify and grow the brand’s presence, but has managed to make her online presence as charmingly non-commercial as possible. She is there to sell, yes, but she manages to make the seams between social media participation and selling thin enough that you don’t feel aggressively marketed to.

 

Only time will tell how authentic a voice Umavijani will prove to have on the social media networks and throughout the broader community. Authenticity always rings true: I think of perfumers such as Liz Moores, Sarah McCartney, and Andy Tauer who apart from handling all the onerous, day-to-day tasks of their businesses also engage meaningfully with their customers on social media, openly sharing the intimate details of their personal lives and their perfume business with joe schmoes like me and you. It feels like a privilege to be allowed this kind of access, but I know it can’t be easy for them either. Authenticity of voice on social media is very tough to develop and maintain. There’s a line to be walked, and it’s no joke trying to navigate one’s way to it.

 

One last word, on pricing. Many bloggers say that the only thing that matters is the perfume itself and that the price shouldn’t come into the equation. I think that price plays a very big role in how we (subconsciously or consciously) value a fragrance. Simply put, if something is cheap, we perceive its materials to be cheap. If a perfume costs almost €400, we assume that the very best materials went into it. It’s just the way our prehensile brains work, sorry.

 

Perfumers can price their products in two ways – production pricing or market pricing. In production pricing, you work backwards from the cost of the materials and man hours, and price the perfume at what it cost to produce (adding in margins for distributors, marketing, one’s own income, etc.). Andy Tauer recently provided an example of what goes into the costing his perfumes, and Laurie Erickson also published a post about the business costs involved in running an artisan perfumery.

 

On the one hand, this makes things quite clear – you know you are paying more if a precious or rare ingredient was used. On the flipside, exposing one’s own profit margins to your customers opens the door to discussions over how fairly you’ve priced your own talent.

 

Market pricing, on the other hand, prices a product at exactly what the market is willing to pay for it. A perfume priced at €400 ignores all the details and simply asks the question “Are you worth it?” If you feel that you deserve the luxury of an expensive bottle of perfume, then you will buy it. You won’t quibble about the perfumer’s margins, you know only that this perfume must be absolutely amazing because it costs almost €400.

 

People in the fragrance community talk grumpily about luxury pricing, but really, we all know that past the €80-100 mark, you are always paying for the prestige, the boasting rights, and not the actual perfume. No perfume costs more than €10 or so to make, anyway. But perfumes priced at luxury prices sell because they play into the perception that a high price means top quality.

 

Parfums Dusita didn’t play around – they went straight in at Roja Dove prices. That took some guts. But they held steady because they knew that the perfumes were good enough to stand up to the scrutiny of the few for whom the scent actually matters, and satisfy the desire for the exclusive, the pricey, and the haute luxe for the person also buying the $35,000 Rolex.

 

But Oudh Infini costs €100 more than Issara, so there’s a strange dash of production pricing mixed in there with the market pricing. The price difference is probably supposed to come across to the customer as the marker of quality for the real oud used in the fragrance. That gaping price differential makes me curious as to what they are actually using as the oud note, whereas had they priced it the same as the others, I wouldn’t have cared. But a €100 price difference? That kind of makes it my business, as a consumer. I could speculate that the oud is an expensive new oud captive developed by a laboratory like IFF or Givaudan, or real oud oil from the plantations in Laos (which I’ve been told is so plentiful and consistent in quality that it is sold in liter jars to perfume companies in France). Either way, I doubt that the cost differential actually amounts to €100 per 50mls of liquid.

 

From a market pricing perspective, though, pricing an oud-based perfume at this much more suggests to the customer that the raw materials are hellishly expensive. It’s a genius move because with a simple (and probably arbitrary) pricing adjustment, you’ve added value to the customer’s perceptions of your brand’s worth as they open their wallet.

 

Anyway, on to the perfumes themselves! They are all very good and interesting, although not half as interesting to me personally as the brand’s own stratospheric rise.

 

Oudh Infini has far more of the animal, furred warmth of a pack animal than a tree or resin, so at first my nose thinks it smells heavy deer musk, not oud oil. But then I’m reminded that there are a couple of pure oud oils out there that mimic the characteristics of deer musk, such as Ensar Oud’s Yunnan 2003 oil, which has a furry thickness to it that makes me think I can just reach out my fingers and touch the warm animal in front of me.

 

It is a brave act, you know, to launch a commercial perfume that smells like this. Those of you who have grown up on farms will not be shocked – neither will people who wear pure oud. But the rest of you? Prepare your nostrils, for Oudh Infini smells intensely of warm sheep, packed ten deep into a shed in winter, the warm (tallow fat) smell of their oily wool mixing with their shit-smeared backsides and the soiled straw beneath. I pick up a faint hint of roses, faded and sour like the emanation from a vase of roses in a locked room. It is not pleasant, it is not pretty, but it has impact.

 

Past the ferociously animalic, barnyardy opening, creamy sandalwood and vanilla turn the oud into a crottin of goat’s cheese. It’s refined and gentle – as I mentioned once to a friend, like dung strained through a silk stocking.

 

Oudh Infini does an excellent job of sketching out what one would smell in a real oud oil – evolving slowly from barnyard, feces, pack animals to runny cheese and flowers and herbs. It lacks perhaps only the more complex depth of camphor, smoke, sap, and woods that form the backbone of pure oud oil, but all the other markers are there.

 

However, and this is a big however, I am having trouble placing Oudh Infini in a hypothetical wardrobe. I love pure oud oil but I also love fragrance compositions that present me with a different, more artistic impression of oud. My trouble with Oudh Infini is that it smells too close to the real oud oil experience for it to succeed purely as an artistic interpretation of the oud theme.

 

In other words, if I want something that smells like real oud oil, why not (for reasons of cost and others) just go for oud oil? Naturally, personal preferences in terms of how we prefer to wear perfume come into it, but if you are thinking of a real oud oil experience, then there is little else as magical as an essential oil (oud oil) that can give the nose all the complexity of wood, fruit, flowers, dung, soil, and ozone without any help from a fragrance laboratory. If I want to wear a proper perfume based on oud, I’d go for more ambitious, complex perfumes such as Oud Shamash or Oud Osmanthus. They don’t smell as authentic oudy as Oudh Infini but verisimilitude is not what I’m seeking when I wear oud-based perfumes. I want the smoke and mirrors.

 

Mélodie de L’Amour is, to my nose, a powerful statement on jasmine, the filthy kind that drapes the insides of your nostrils in the matte black ink of pure indole. Very little to differentiate here at first between the flat wall of scatole that rises off a fresh turd and a jasmine decaying right off the vine, which is how all jasmines would be if I had my way. Boy, it fairly pins my ears back. There is the faint breath of rotting fruit to add moistness to the dank, flat tonality here, a peach or pear perhaps, with an undertone of acrylic paint or turps.

 

Later, it develops a green, rubbery, creamy cheese odor that I assume is gardenia, but it is successfully managed by that wall of jasmine and never approaches the rancid horror of Dame Perfumery’s Gardenia soliflore, which smells like black spots on butter taste in my mouth. Mélodie de L’Amour is the rare instance of a floral that smells more like an animal than a plant, joining the ranks of other bloodsucking florals such as Manoumalia, Rubj, and Une Fleur de Cassie, perfumes I never know if they going to wear me, eat me, or fuck me.

 

Issara is the most immediately likeable and wearable of the initial Dusita trio. For a fougere, it is surprisingly lush and sweet, deftly side-stepping the beardy, Brut-ish machismo of most of this year’s fougere revivals (I’m looking at you, Le Barbier de Tangers) and aligning itself with softer takes on the theme, such as Chanel’s Boy. The topnotes sparkle like sunlight on fresh snow – friendly, crisp pine mingling with mint and sage, faintly sugared with tonka bean and a starchy white musk. There is a beautifully fresh, green “salt” note here, reminiscent of beach grasses and sand dunes.

 

I only have two issues here, really – first, that the musky, tonka-ish drydown is rather synthetic in feel, in comparison to the more natural Oudh Infini and Melodie de l’Amour (I suspect a touch too much of either Ambroxan or Iso E Super), and second, fougeres used to be the unpretentious backbone of the male grooming world, so I’m not sure if putting it in extrait form or pricing it at €295 for 50mls isn’t missing the point somewhat. Issara is a very good fougere, but for that type of money I’d rather buy a 200ml vat of Chanel’s Boy and just splash it on with gay abandon.

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  • Tara C December 17, 2016 at 12:23 am

    Very thought-provoking article. Regarding the market pricing, when I see a price of €300 or €400 for 50 mls, my first thought is, it’s not woth it, because I know the materials can’t have cost that much more than a €100 bottle and I just write it off immediately in my head. Obviously I’m not the target market, because I won’t pay more than €150 for 50mls no matter how good it smells. And I have lots of perfumes that I really enjoy at that price point, so I’m satisfied. I did smell the Dusita scents (because I was in a shop that had testers, I would not have ordered samples) and didn’t connect with any of them. But I see lots of positive comments on social media and I’m happy for her.

    Bottom line is, I ignore things that are out of my mental price range (such as Roja Dove) and that helps sort out the cacophony of the crowded niche market as a side benefit.

    • Claire December 19, 2016 at 11:04 am

      Hi Tara! Thank you. Yes, I also avoid perfumes that cost over a certain price per ml, although if they came my way, I would certainly sniff them. I think that it is an anomaly that so many people who would not normally be in the luxury buying bracket got the chance to test these perfumes, and that is all down to the unusual sampling scheme that Dusita put in place. I think it was incredibly smart, because I know many people who bought a full bottle of Dusita afterwards because they fell in love and couldn’t help themselves, despite the price. It makes me wonder if other luxury brands such as Roja Dove and Grossmith would be able to tap into new markets with a sampling scheme as liberal and as low-priced as the Dusita one. Even though I have a pretty strict price per ml I wouldn’t go over, I have the feeling that this boundary might have to shift a little if I were able to access 5ml samples of the €400 perfumes for the price of shipping….:-)

    • Claire December 19, 2016 at 11:04 am

      Hi Tara! Thank you. Yes, I also avoid perfumes that cost over a certain price per ml, although if they came my way, I would certainly sniff them. I think that it is an anomaly that so many people who would not normally be in the luxury buying bracket got the chance to test these perfumes, and that is all down to the unusual sampling scheme that Dusita put in place. I think it was incredibly smart, because I know many people who bought a full bottle of Dusita afterwards because they fell in love and couldn’t help themselves, despite the price. It makes me wonder if other luxury brands such as Roja Dove and Grossmith would be able to tap into new markets with a sampling scheme as liberal and as low-priced as the Dusita one. Even though I have a pretty strict price per ml I wouldn’t go over, I have the feeling that this boundary might have to shift a little if I were able to access 5ml samples of the €400 perfumes for the price of shipping….:-)

  • Undina December 17, 2016 at 2:58 am

    I wonder what you consider as a success? Mind you, I haven’t had a chance to try any of the perfumes from the line, so I do not have any opinion about them and I see absolutely no problem with any pricing schema. So I’m not trying to argue any of your points, I’m just curious what makes you think that Dusita’s foray into the perfume/luxury perfume market is any more successful than any other new brand’s one? Or, to that extend, successful at all?

    These perfumes are sold in a handful of boutiques/sites (8, unless I miscalculated). Those are the same boutiques that sell other great perfumes, many of which use a different “market pricing” strategy (if the production costs $10, $150-$200 price tag is already stimulating enough for our pre-conditioned brains, isn’t it?). So how many Rolex-buying customers will go there to have their perfume fix, and how many of them will prefer these perfumes to Roja Dove, Amouage, or Xefjoff’s? And I’m not even talking about the less “stimulating” brands presented at the same stores. I would be considering success if these perfumes would have appeared at Harrods, Neiman Marcus or similar giants, exposed to those people who routinely pays for exclusivity. And stayed there for at least a couple of years. Without that I’m just not sure one way or the other – so I would be curious to hear your reasoning.

    • Claire December 19, 2016 at 10:53 am

      Hi Undina, Parfums Dusita are now carried by the major distributors and e-tailers such as Luckyscent, Essenza Nobile, and FiF, where I know they are frequently sold out of stock and therefore may be considered a clear case of commercial success. But I also watch what is happening on the social media circuit, and what I see is a lot of people feting these three perfumes as the best perfumes of perhaps the last 2-3 years. That is my impression anyway – such hype I have only seen around a couple of perfumes in the past years, such as Salome by Papillon and Maai by Bogue. And by hype, I mean fulsome praise to the point at which you might say a sort of consensus has been reached. In these (rare) cases of almost universal praise, you start to see members buying and posting pictures of full bottles they have bought (at retail), and outside of people buying Roja Doves for bragging rights, I have only seen this happen for fragrances such as Maai and Salome. I am seeing this happen to Oudh Infini and Meoldie de l’Amour this year in particular, with perhaps Oudh Infini as the one that has achieved a cult-like status in the community. When I pair the info I am getting about how well they are selling at places like LS and EN with what I can see happening on social media platforms, that is how I arrived at my reasoning that Parfums Dusita is a success. Hope that helps explain my reasoning! xx Claire

      • Undina December 20, 2016 at 1:07 am

        Yes, I see what you mean.

        Just to stress out again: I wasn’t disagreeing with you, I was just wondering since in the last 7-8 years I lived through reading a lot of praises to different brands – niche and indie – and saw their coming in and out of the spotlight but, unless they had been bought by one of the behemoths, I could never tell if they were actually doing fine or not.

        I should get to try at least some of Dusita’s perfumes to see myself what all the hype is about (though I have to admit that I haven’t tried Maai and I really disliked Salome so I’m probably not the best indicator :))

        • Claire December 22, 2016 at 9:52 pm

          Hi Undina – I hope you didn’t think I was disagreeing with your question, I just wrote that in a rush, so I hope it didn’t come out that way! Anyone is free to question the premise of what I’m writing, and I consider it only fair considering I am always examining other people’s work and output too. But I welcome your question because it made me think about why I chose Dusita as a focus for this post, when really it could have been last year’s Salome or Maai from the year before, so your question helped me focus my thoughts on why I chose Dusita, and the answer turned out to be (concretely) because of the combined commercial and critical success, coupled with the line’s very positive reception on the Facebook groups. But when I wrote the original post, I can’t say that my reasoning was anything other than instinctive, which is not the best way to go about planning a blog post. Based on your reaction to Maai and Salome, no, I think you had better avoid this line – the perfumes are similarly bold! 🙂 Happy holidays to you and to Rusty! By the way, I loved your vanilla series and based on your recommendation, I have ordered the sample set from Maison de la Vanille! By the way, I also thought Havana Vanille (or Vanille Absoluement) was absolutely vile – just wrong, wrong, wrong! I am also with you on the beauty of Mona di Orio’s Vanille….just sublime. xxx

          • Undina December 24, 2016 at 7:38 am

            Happy Holidays to you too, Claire!

            You do realize that now I’ll just have to test those perfumes, don’t you? 😉

          • Claire December 24, 2016 at 2:13 pm

            Oh yes, I’m afraid so…I consider this to be fair considering I am about to work my way through 10 (10!) straight vanilla samples 🙂

  • Pissara December 19, 2016 at 8:06 pm

    Dear Claire,

    First of all, thank you so much for creating this article. I enjoy reading it so much.

    For Dusita, we still have a long way to go. I tell myself every day to work harder and keep on creating better perfumes.

    Happy holiday to you :),

  • purecaramel December 24, 2016 at 9:25 am

    Claire
    Brilliantly Articulate!
    Naughty of you to out me!!
    I shuddered, only when, you spoke of purchasing a Vat and Gay abandon!
    In my opinion, the Exclusifs in EDP form have been enviscerated, with a homogenizing base.
    I’ll take a spritz of the more polished Issara.
    Your ( Lost in the Clouds of Nostalgia) Friend.
    purecaramel

    Steve

    • Claire December 24, 2016 at 2:19 pm

      Happy Christmas, Steve! I am knee deep in preparations for my Middle Eastern extravaganza tonight, but wanted to take time out to remind you that, as a chef, you should know that marination only improves the flavor and texture of the meat! I like to spray until dripping wet from head to toe. A friend told me that this is the way to go with several perfumes, including fougeres and Bal a Versailles. I like the illusion of plenty, and I’m afraid I murder extraits too. I am currently basting in half a bottle of vintage Coco parfum, and I know that this will make you shudder 🙂 Love to you and the Missus. xxx Claire

  • Steve December 24, 2016 at 4:13 pm

    Merry Christmas Claire!
    Touche.
    Thank-you for all your extraordinary Perfume Writing this Year.
    Know that you are Loved and Respected by Many!!
    Love Always
    Steve, Laurie, Diva and Terry.

  • purecaramel January 6, 2017 at 6:23 am

    Don’t you dare! Tip this into the bin.
    I’m rustling around amongst the rubbish with camel to find the Le Labo review
    Thanks for the nod to the Black Narcisse. Pour Monsieur, what a delightful Start.
    2017 is a year of Possibilities.
    Happy New Year Claire
    purecaramel

  • Nikhil S January 10, 2017 at 10:22 am

    What a disgraceful way to put down a success story. I do not question your credibility or intentions but in all honesty I own most perfumes from any category. I am an honest blogger and video reviewer. Either you sniffed the scents with bias or your nose is plain garbage. Nothing is above the perfumes. Not even the artist. Just sniff those perfumes and you will know how a luxury perfume should smell like. I am really interested in your honest take on RD Amber Oud or Diaghilev. Let’s see what you have to say about those.

    • Claire January 10, 2017 at 11:16 pm

      Hi Nikhil, how nice to see you here. I recognize you as a great fellow lover of attars and oud mukhallats. I am not putting anybody down in this blog post, just commenting on a marketing strategy. But then this blog post is proving to be a little like those optical illusion things where everybody picks up something different from it. You are a fellow fan of Mukhallat Dahn al Oudh Moattaq, if I remember correctly from Facebook. And also the divine Rouh al Aoud from ASAQ. We agree on those – even my “garbage” nose, as you put it, recognizes the quality there. I also thought the Dusita perfumes were very high quality, if not ultimately to my personal taste. It is possible, you know, to say that a perfume is good and still not want to buy it or wear it for oneself. Anyway, thanks for commenting, and I hope you come back, hopefully a little less belligerent the next time, though? 🙂

      • Nikhil S January 12, 2017 at 2:00 pm

        I am really sorry for sounding like an arse. And, I had no intention of belittling your thoughts or nose. I deeply respect anyone who can contribute something to this wonderful hobby. Those words are not directed to you in the literal sense I used metaphors to express my hurt. Not hurt because of your personal perspective but the way this is creating an unintended chaos. The so called artisanal scent makers are charging prices too much to their fancy. But, why not if Clive C can walk away with anything and everything and I really think Pissara is doing a fine job. I really loved Le Sillage Blanc, Oudh Infini, Le Docieur de Siam, Issara. The one which is pretty darn average is Melodie. I personally love Andy etc too. But, don’t you think Pissara is far more reachable than any of these guys. I mean I bought my sample pack too. It was never a free gift and I have never bought a full bottle as yet. I am waiting for Le Sillage blanc to come out. I have promoted the scents out of sheer love for the creations and never because how she s become a talk of the town. Anyway, I deeply apologise for my brash behaviour. It was very irresponsible and unintelligent of me. You are doing a fine job but this article has created quite a lot of noise in the social circuit and guys are literally saying….thank God I stayed away from them. LOL. Anyway, have a good day. I wish you all the best and thank you for being kind with my response. TC.

        • Claire January 12, 2017 at 6:20 pm

          No worries Nikhil, and thanks for coming back with such grace. I know that this article caused a lot of talk on the social media circuit, and believe me, I’ve come under a lot of a criticism for it myself. But truly, all I meant to do was to analyse Pissara’s strategy to penetrate the high end of the luxury fragrance market, not make a value judgement or get too personal. I come to perfume from an MBA background and marketing experience, so the mechanics of marketing and brand image are as interesting to me as the perfumes themselves. And exactly, as you said, if Clive C and Roja can master the luxury market, then why not a new brand, such as Dusita? I say fair dues to anyone (and especially a woman) who has the balls big enough to enter that particular segment of the market and be a success. Dusita’s sampling program was very smart and effective, and it enabled lots of people (like you and me) to smell the perfumes, perfumes that normally I wouldn’t be able to access because of the cost or if they were sold exclusively in Harrods, etc. And I don’t doubt the honesty and passion of people like yourself who love the Dusita scents. I don’t think that the fans of these perfumes are promoting the brand for any other reason than they love the perfumes, which is how it should be. As a writer or reviewer, you have to be honest in your opinions, because if you’re not, anyone reading can immediately sense it. The perfumes weren’t for me personally, but that is me being honest too (and hopefully you can respect that my opinion is given honestly). I am not trying to take the brand down or denigrate Pissara in any way. They are really high quality perfumes and I can see why others love them. Anyway, I am in the middle of writing a book on attars and ouds, so will be writing to pick your brain at some point! Cheers, Claire

          • Nikhil January 12, 2017 at 6:30 pm

            There you said it dear….I applaud her courage too and the fact that she being a total stranger in a man dominated industry is able to make so much noise single handedly. Actually a lot of these luxury houses have many inspired products of average quality and have been promoting themselves as masters. It irritates me. I don’t believe everyone has to have the same taste. And I not only respect that but also cherish the fact that different opinions widen our perspectives. Anyway I will be more than glad to help with information on ouds etc . My best wishes.

  • Danny Constantinescu March 27, 2017 at 10:25 am

    the ‘discovery set’ of 3 samples is now 65 euros. hmmmm….. i guess the ‘generosity’ is over.

    • Claire March 27, 2017 at 8:39 pm

      Hey Danny Boy! I’d offer to send you my samples but I posted them off to a mutual friend of ours in London before Christmas (not that they ever arrived 🙁 Kiss, Claire

  • Danny Constantinescu March 28, 2017 at 7:34 am

    hey babes, don’t worry about, i’m sure i can leave without. plus, the emphasis these days is on reducing, not expanding.

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