When last I wore Sunset Rider, I declared it the sole Soivohle that did not agree with me, blaming the August heat for interacting disastrously with its megadose of jasmine. I thought it might take at least six months before I'd essay to try it again. That was ten days shy of a year ago.
So here we are in August again, the humidity lying heavy as a dripping, hot washcloth. I'm wearing Sunset Rider and, this time, loving it. Its jasmine is still Joylike, but all the "soapy sugar" I decried in 2012 is gone-- replaced by a lovely chypre that leads like terraced steps down into mysterious woods. (Where was all this the last time I visited?)
With its newfound restraint and classic sense of elegance, Sunset Rider has changed my mind, not to mention the number of stars I'm awarding it (increased from two to three). But now it's my husband who complains of its soapiness and sugariness. I guess I don't like jasmine, he says. Really, honey? You just wait.