L'Air du Temps Nina Ricci perfume. L'AIR DU TEMPS A FRAGRANCE FOR WORLD PEACETHE TIMELESS ROMANTIC PERFUME FOR PEACE LOVERS I have never been moved to tears by a perfume that is this beautiful. After having experienced every phase of the fragrance from the top, middle, bottom notes and to the last dry down, I cried and felt as if there could'nt be a greater masterpiece in the world of fragrance past or present. And I thought Arpege was really something! This was so amazing and so beautiful beyond words. There is so much going on in this fragrance that I can only cover a part of it in my review.

I will do my best to describe the fragrance in all it's facets and uses. L'air du Temps in French means The Times and it was especially created to celebrate the end of World War 2.

The noses who created the formula were Francis Fabron and Robert Ricci, the son of fashion designer Nina Ricci. The year was 1. 94. World World War 2 was over by 1. Nuremberg Trials were conducted in Germany and many of the Nazi Holocaust perpetrators were sent to prison. The world had not yet recovered from the atrocities but some were starting to look ahead. Could World Peace be a real possibility? Or was it just an elusive dream of the United Nations?

In 1. 95. 7, Francis Fabron would created L'interdit another of my favorite fragrances, a youthful rose especially made for Audrey Hepburn and sold by Givenchy. But in '4. 8, L'Air du Temps would dominate sales through the subsequent decades of the 5.

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Rene Lalique the jeweler and glass maker who had famously designed the world's greatest perfume bottles in the Art Nouveau style for Francois Coty designed the famous bottle with a stopper shaped like kissing white doves. Doves were a symbol for world peace.

I own both a vintage old formula and the latest reformulation. This is a review for both. Both have the same formula but the reformulation that sells today is lighter and has absolutely no musk or very little barely- there musk and woods: sandalwood, oak moss, cedar and vetiver which was very prominent in the vintage. The vintage is perfume lover's dream come true: the feelings and images it evokes are heartbreakingly beautiful. Soft flowers, white floral scents of gardenia and jasmine. The TV Set Movie Watch Online.

The vintage is bigger on white flowers and it almost becomes a white floral wedding bouquet. I envisioned a bride with a very long veil and gown, something out of another era, even older than World War 2, World War I or even the American Civil War. There is such a romantic, antique feel to this fragrance in a beauiful, noble way.

It's like something worn by brides of the Edwardian or Victorian Eras. There is also a freshness like being out in the open air (hence the term l'air) outdoors in a French garden with thousands of flowers of all kinds of colors: gardenias, violets, ylangylang, jasmine, iris and white pink and red roses. It feels like a quiet walk through the Bois des Vincennes Bois de Boulogne Parc de Buttes Chaumont or Tuilieries gardens, one of those romatnic 1. This is such a romantic fragrance. It's for lovers, for husbands and wives, for two people that truly love each other and never want to let each other go. There is clearly a vintage feel for both the Eau de Parfum and Eau de Toilette in the reformulation so I would say it honors the original very well but its much lighter and more of a skin scent without any real projection or sillage and has virtually none of the strength of the musk and strong wood notes of the original. This is like a song, like a poem, like caressing a white dove with your hand, like a love letter, a piece of classical music, something like a 1.

Romantic Chopin piano melody. This feeling has world peace written all over it. It is so delicate and feminine. This fragrance is an innocent child with it's mother walking in a flower garden, all they want is to be allowed to live in a world of flowers and of safety, security, a paradise of love , a world of people who have only good intentions and where there is no war. And I wanted to stay there forever. I cried as I felt the fragrance was pulling me into this unbelievably beautiful world that can never happen.

NOTES IN L'AIR DU TEMPS Head Notes: Carnation Peach Neroli Bergamot Rose Brazilian Rosewood Aldehydes Heart Notes: Rosemary Carnation Gardenia Violet Orchid Clves Orris Root Jasmine Ylang. Ylang Rose Base Notes: Spices Iris Amber Sandalwood Musk Benzoin Oak Moss Vetiver Cedar As I mentioned before the vintage has more depth so the dry down does not turn as powdery as the reformulation. There is a light glowing amber in the reformulation that is quite lovely and can still hold up the top and middle notes really well. In this way I feel that it honors the spectacular vintage frag. The vintage has more of a hallucinatory effect on me. It takes me away from our age of cell phones, texting, and bad news on TV about Paris attacks by ISIS and terrorists. This, ah this is a fragrance of a romantic Paris from long long ago, when gentlemen wore top hats and well tailored suits that could today pass for their wedding day tuxedos, and women who were beautifully dressed in Victorian and Edwardian dresses showing absolutely no skin other than their forearms hands, neck and faces.

Women smiling softly from under the brim of a hat, or holding parasols. This is like something Frederic Chopin would have worn and IT CAN BE UNISEX if you are male poet musician or writer or artist with a lot of sensitivity and artistic sensibilities. This is the same that appleis to Lanvin's Arpege which is about the only fragrance I can compare it to. Oh this was a world I wanted to live in for the rest of my life but then had to wake up and realize it was only the dream the fragrance itself produced in my mind. The reformulation appears to have more going on and has unlisted notes.

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It has vanilla to my nose. Certainly it is heavy on carnation. Carnation is the single flower that dominates this fragrance and it completely subdues the rose, a rose which tried to compete with it. The carnation is white and combined with the other white flowers of jasmine and gardenia creates that incredibly soft feminine, beautiful and even melancholic, introspective, emotional feeling. This is like a beautiful woman who lives in a dignified world of her own.

She cannot change with the times because they are too vulgar, too cruel, too barbaric nd so she is beyond us. She is an angel. This is a fragrance for angels. She used to live on earth and she died, but has returned as a fragrance.

And I can smell tears, tears that seem to say: love one another, do not hurt each other and let the garden of flowers grow, grow and expand all over the world. This is totally a flower power perfume, the truest definition of a floral fragrance.

The flowers are like those that 1. Flowers for peace! Make love not war! This fragrance moved me more than any other fragrance in the world. I wish that people could feel the same way I do about this fragrance.

In these dark times of terrorism, violence, war, fear and hate, this fragrance leads me to being more loving, more generous, more human, more of a humanitarian and more of a person that can only think of bettering the lives of others and helping others. In that vein, this is like a fragrance which could have easily worn by Audrey Hepburn, Princess Diana or Julie Andrews, women whom you associate with goodness, humanitarian work, dedication to helping the world become a better place, women whose gift is pure love for all people. In its practical use this would be suited to both day time and evening wear. The vintage is totally evening wear and romantic night out.

The new one sits on the skin and is very light and has more of a casual relaxed feel. To be honest htis france can be flexible and worn at any time but it should be worn for very special ocassions to bring out its true beauty. Wear this on a romantic date, or to make someone fall in love with your inner princess Diana.

This is the most romantic fragrance I have ever come across.

Nina Simone in Liberia - Guernica. Nina Simone, left, at Wilhelmina "Coo Coo" Tubman's birthday party in Monrovia, 1. Courtesy of the Parker family collection, Monrovia, Liberia.Someone who knew Nina Simone well—a Liberian friend of hers, I suppose a mutual friend now—told me a story. Liberia’s past is in pieces, he said, and here’s one of them. Maybe it’s the one you’re looking for. On a September night in 1.

Monrovia, Liberia; a torrent of sky and trash—discarded slippers, supine roaches, maybe a lost crab. The rain stopped as abruptly as it started, as if a conductor had pressed his fingers together and cut the thundering chords, and then a film of humidity stretched over the city, steaming the downtown party strip that ran from Carey Street to Broad and Gurley. Watch Dave Made A Maze Online Free HD. That night, The Maze—a small discotheque on Mechlin Street—was cramped. Some fifty people, a cut of high society, had gathered despite the weather; women in draped dresses, men in suits with pocket squares and bow ties. Nina Simone arrived at midnight, giddy on champagne and in the arms of a Liberian date.

By then the umbrellas in the corner had long dried and a mirror ball was sending out spots of light, bleaching the red velour curtains over and over. The speakers rang with imported soul and disco: James Brown, The Temptations, twelve- inch records from labels like Motown’s Gordy and Stax. Living for the City. Don’t You Worry ’Bout a Thing. Not long after Simone walked in, something got to her—the place or the drink, surely—and throwing her head back in laughter, she unfastened the button at her nape, peeled off her dress, and, as the men at the bar clapped and hollered, she danced until sun up, only putting her dress back on to leave. I found another piece, a videotape.

At the Montreux jazz festival, in 1. Nina Simone sat at a white baby grand. Her hair was cornrowed into a bun, her cheeks brushed red; double drop earrings grazed her neckline. Leaning into the mic, she introduced the mostly white, transfixed crowd to a jaunty, go- go song: “Liberian Calypso.” “This is a song we learned from when we were in Liberia, for the three years we lived there; I guess most of you know about that,” she said. In the middle of it I want you to sing with me: ‘Run, Nina.’” As the audience warmed up to the chorus, Simone slammed on the spruce, singing the story of that night at The Maze. I pressed the pieces together—two at first, then more, linking shards of story with pins and rivets as though imperfectly mending a ceramic pot.

I listened to “Liberian Calypso” again and again. A 1. 98. 2 release from Simone’s penultimate album, Fodder on My Wings,it isn’t her most striking composition, yet there is something remarkable about it: the story of an erotic dance, told through small and sweet lyrics (“My joy it was so complete, you know.

My friend was happy, he said, ‘Go! Go!’”). With its colorful chords and childlike verse (“I danced for hours, hours on end. I said, ‘Dear Lord, you are my friend’”), almost all sensuality has been scraped away, exposing the muscle below (“You brought me home to Liberia, and all other places are inferior”). That night at The Maze, Nina Simone stripped right down to her bones.

And the song she wrote about it is—rare for Simone—a love song without longing, a ballad to a land that set her free.*In 1. Simone moved to Monrovia, it was among the most decadent places to party in Africa. More than a century after the American Colonization Society planted the Liberian flag, in 1. Liberia was enjoying one last dance before the civil- war years to come; politicians and the educated elite had more dollar power than ever before. President William R. Tolbert Jr., a Baptist preacher and descendent of the original settlers, had been in power for three years, having succeeded William V.

S. Tubman upon his death in 1. Tolbert was more liberal and progressive than his predecessor, announcing a social- reform agenda—“Total Involvement for Higher Heights,” designed to narrow the gap between native Liberians and the educated elite—and encouraging freedom of expression.

His movement met the black- consciousness movement on its journey northwest from South Africa, merging too with the post- independence projects of Liberia’s neighbors: Cote d’Ivoire, Ghana, Guinea, and Senegal. As the spotlight swung from the old guard of conservative status- quoists to a new wave of progressive politicians, Liberia drew students, activists, political leaders, and musicians from Africa and black America—among them James Brown, Stokely Carmichael, Miriam Makeba, Nelson Mandela, Hugh Masekela, and the Rev. Jesse Jackson.“It was a time when Liberia was discovering itself,” said Dr. Elwood Dunn, a Liberian historian and Tolbert’s former minister of state for presidential affairs. Until that time, we had been living in splendid isolation.

Suddenly, all these international students from other African countries were here. They were speaking the language of liberation, of freedom.”It was a language that Simone spoke fluently. She was forty- one when she first landed at Robertsfield International Airport, her twelve- year- old daughter Lisa in tow, their belongings—clothes, books, records—packed into the belly of a Pan Am jet. Six years had passed since Martin Luther King Jr.’s assassination; nine since Simone had belted out protest songs during the Selma to Montgomery voting- rights march. Although black America still saw her as a talented political performer, a civil- rights revolutionary armed with loud and furious song—“Oh, but this whole country is full of lies, you’re all gonna die and die like flies,” she sang in “Mississippi Goddam,” berating the go- slow politics of the Johnson administration—she had seen little racial progress. Two of the big six were dead, as were her friends Langston Hughes and Malcom X; Huey Newton and Bobby Seale were in jail.

The rhythm of the civil- rights movement had ebbed, and Simone wondered if her cris de coeur for a more just racial order had fallen short.“The America I’d dreamed of through the sixties seemed a bad joke now, with Nixon in the White House and the black revolution replaced by disco,” she wrote in her memoir, I Put a Spell on You. If the America of the sixties was a joke, the America that Simone had imagined in the fifties seemed downright impossible; she was still angered by her rejection from the Curtis School of Music in 1. Having previously been accepted by a summer program at Juilliard, she felt the decision was based on the color of her skin. With it she’d begun to let go of her dream of becoming America’s first black concert pianist, shedding her birth name (Eunice Waymon) and moving to Atlantic City, where she became Nina Simone, played cocktail jazz (“the devil’s music,” her mother called it), and sang in public for the first time. But no matter the rousing depths of her voice and repertoire—“Four Women” (“My skin is black, my arms are long, my hair is woolly, and my back is strong”); “To Be Young, Gifted and Black” (“Your soul’s intact”); a cover of Billy Taylor’s “I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to Be Free” (“Jonathan Livingston Seagull ain’t got nothin’ on me,” she once improvised); “I Shall Be Released” (“Any day now, any day now”)—she still felt that white America wasn’t listening. She frequently admonished audiences for the same, glaring and employing long pauses to enforce Carnegie Hall rules at jazz festivals.) Simone’s personal life wasn’t much brighter. Her turbulent marriage to the Harlem police detective Andy Stroud had ended, and she was grieving her father’s death.

After a stint living in Barbados, where she dated the Prime Minister Errol Barrow, she and Lisa were back in the US, living in a Manhattan apartment; mounting financial troubles forced the sale of their Mount Vernon home. So when Miriam Makeba called in August 1.

Liberia, Simone agreed. Makeba was due to meet Stephen Tolbert, the president’s brother, there. He was funding Zaire ’7.