It isn’t quite foodie, and not quite feminine either. It’s a transient beauty, dying quickly on my skin, and I wish, I so wish that so much more of the honey-cake, carby-flour happiness would last on my skin. But it doesn’t, and this makes me sad.
Instead, on me, it dies down to a sweet powder. It’s not at all unpleasant – it’s lovely, actually, like the memory of sweetened bread hanging in a kitchen. But it isn’t the actuality of the bread itself, and I would so love the cakey reality.
Disclaimer: I am not a perfume expert, nor am I sponsored by BPAL or, indeed, anyone.
To find the notes for these scents, click the link in the name.