🌆 The City That Breathes—and Sometimes Chokes 😷
Moscow is a city of contrasts. It roars, whispers, laughs, and rushes. And it smells—in a thousand different ways. Coffee on the corner, fresh bread from a bakery, rain on the asphalt, exhaust fumes near Kuzminki station, perfume in a business center elevator… But in recent years, something has changed. Not in the city, but in us. In how we choose what surrounds us. Especially in how we choose to smell. I truly love Moscow. But some things make me sad. Not angry—sad. Because something subtle, almost imperceptible, is being lost. Something that made the city’s atmosphere feel alive—not just loud.
🧪 The Age of Niche: When Individuality Became Uniform 🎭
Remember when perfume was like a signature? a gentle trail, a hint, an intrigue. You didn’t shout about who you were—you simply were. Today is different. The bottle has become a manifesto. The scent—a status symbol. The louder, the more complex, the more “niche”—the more “unique” you are. The only irony is that in the air, many of these “unique” fragrances smell strikingly similar: powerful notes of resin, smoke, leather, something ancient and heavy. This isn’t individuality. It’s a fashion trend in a fancy box. And it has flooded every space—from the metro to the mall, from offices to courtyards.
🖤 Nostalgia for the Quiet Heroes: Where Have You Gone, Chanel No. 5? 📻
I look back with nostalgia to a time when a scent didn’t need an explanation. Chanel No. 5. Dior J’adore. Miss Dior. They didn’t scream. They didn’t overpower. They didn’t create a “blast radius.” They were part of a persona—elegant, understated, alive. Where are they now? Why did we decide that “being yourself” means smelling so strong that you can be detected from ten meters away? Or did we just stop trusting ourselves and start trusting the marketing?
🚇 Urban Survival: The Art of Holding Your Breath 🆘
Picture it: you’re in an elevator. Eight floors to go. Next to you stands someone who smells like they just lost a battle in a perfume factory. You’re not angry. You’re… weary. You hold your breath. You count the floors. You pray. This isn’t about “bad taste.” It’s about a loss of boundaries. When a fragrance stops being personal, it becomes public. And not always in a good way. In a crowded metro car, it’s no longer one person’s choice. It’s everyone’s experience. And often, an unpleasant one.
☕ Salvation in Simplicity. And in Memory 🌧️
I find my salvation in nostalgia. I open an old bottle, and for a second, I’m not in the past, but in a different reality. One where a scent is not a weapon, but poetry. Where it doesn’t scream “LOOK AT ME!” but whispers, “I’m here.” Where the smell of coffee, rain, or an old book is more precious than any “niche” sillage. Moscow is a city that teaches you to survive. But sometimes, you don’t want to survive. You just want to… breathe. Calmly. Freely. Without the overwhelming scents of others.