Bal a Versailles's Review of Private Collection Jasmine White Moss by Estée Lauder

My daughter's wedding loomed. 'What perfume will you wear" I asked. Her face turned inside out "It has to be something that nobody else is wearing, what do you have?" I had a little something that I thought might work, all thanks to a very sophisticated but supremely approachable SA at Nieman Marcus Alamoana Centre. Because it was her nuptial perfume of choice I handed my gorgeous sample to my daughter, who instantly fell in love with Tom Ford's Champaca Absolute. It met the criteria too. Aha! Not the subject of this review, you ask, what are you blithering on about? The bride is the star of the show, but what does the Mother of the Bride wear? What says 'I know enough about perfume to get this mix right' ? I racked my brains and decided that Cristalle could translate that mixture of joy and understated elegance, but hell, Cristalle wouldn't last past the first hour. Jasmin White Moss isn't a clone when compared wrist to wrist, but let's face it, the Queen is dead, Long live the Queen; Cristalle is barely supported by Chanel as all the marketing energy has gone into the Exclusifs and a certain Pitt stop. The wedding is next week. Thank you Aerin Lauder, thank you Estee, for this perfume's conception. I think there's a trace of 'Beautiful' in it, but perhaps I'm brainwashed. Whatever White Moss Mist is, I'm a believer and I love it. Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.

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