Women's Fragrances WienerBlut

When the Bora wind whips the black waters of the Quarnero, a fresh, salty mist engulfs the Coast of Laurels, the grand riviera of Imperial Austria.

A fragrance as intangible as Klimt’s golden vision of he Elysian Fields: “an ideal realm, wherein alone we can find pure joy, pure happiness, pure love.” It wears like a subtle, immaterial cloak of br more→ight light,verdant freshness and subdued florality.

Celebrating the centuries old philosophical concept of the man that is unspoiled by civilization, this fragrance highlights the raw beauty of uncultivated nature. Freshly broken twigs, spiced grasses more→and dark green nettles mark the path of the noble savage through the undergrowth of the wooded hills.

A dark, spicy warmth reveals the presence of the great beast. Typhon, or Typhoeus, once ruled the deepest realms of Hades. Klimt places him at the center of the hostile forces, in shades of black, bro more→wn and uncanny blue.

Within the silence of sacred stone walls and smooth marble floors, flickering altar candles radiate hints of wax, ashes and chilled frankincense.

High above the mountain forests, between snow fields and bare rock, the crystal-clear nocturnal sky carries the scent of cold wood and eternal ice.

According to Freud, the uncanny is the familiar and the unfamiliar at once. This fragrance is an attempt to capture that quality: Dark, clean, dirty, innocent, erotic, unsettling and intriguing at the more→same time, there is no familiar category that fits this composition.

In the world of Freud, wood stands for sexual desire in general and the female bosom in particular. A milky fragrance that captures intimate skin feeling – with animalic and lactonic notes vibrating a more→round a luscious woody core.

Franz Ferdinand in India: After a day of elephant riding, tiger hunting and coin shooting, tobacco and spirits are served beneath the arcades of Chowmahalla.

In the early hours of December 12, 1877, nothing could stop the evening’s guests at the Court Opera. The Viennese, addicted to the waltz, pushed aside the chairs and took over the hall, defying an imp more→erial ban on dancing. A tribute to the waltz, the Opera Ball, and Viennese blood.

In the cafés overlooking the grand avenue and along the shaded parkways, everyone is talking about the same novelty: a soft, milky, almost exotic trail, inspired by a curiously named plant that has co more→nquered the city. It's Volkamaria, an Eau de Parfum that plays with delicate contrasts and transforms them into disarming elegance.. It opens with a luminous flash of Calabrian Bergamot and Green Mandarin: crisp, vibrant, and capable of immediately invigorating the composition. Their citrusy burst slowly fades into the velvety softness of Moroccan Rose, a romantic touch that warms the atmosphere without weighing it down.. The heart is the real coup: Florentine Iris and French Iris intertwine in a…

From the open doors of the Orangerie, bright notes of green and golden citrus flow into the crisp morning air of the palace gardens.