Beyond Daniel Buren’s confrontational black and white columns, now mostly commandeered by marauding children.
Through the gardens where, even in late May, the roses seem in an advanced state of decay.
Like the ladies who, a century or two ago, kept in these gilded cage apartments, once ‘sang’ for their suppers.
Purple arches call, like luminous architectural song birds.
Beckoning to the arcade where “Oncle” holds olfactory court.
In his crepuscular domain of half-remembered destinations, ill-forgotten love affairs and old friends.
The Dandy allowed himself one bell jar from Serge Lutens.
But which to chose?
In the event it came down to three scents.
Two, as you’d expect available only at Palais Royal (and in America occasionally).
One used to be everywhere, then withdrew, and now is only here…
Can you guess which trio of fragrances made up the shortlist?
Scented letters on all three will follow…
The Perfumed Dandy.