The subconscious power of words! I see the word, "olive", and although I know that tea olive is a species of osmanthus, my nose smells something oily. Good oily, comforting oily. Perhaps, "creamy" would be an even better word. Literally creamy- like the scent of the facial cream my grandma used to put on at night. Did it have olive oil base? Perhaps.
Tea olive is supposed to have an apricot-like quality, but to my nose, Hove's version does not. After the first brightly floral burst, even the flowery characteristic becomes subdued, and I find it difficult to tell any notes whatsoever. It is all quiet, languid, dreamy creaminess. I don't miss apricots and flowers and I have no desire to investigate the actual notes. A great olfactory miracle happened here, the one that happens once in a while, when a fragrance or a certain aspect of it touches something in your soul and the strings of your heart start playing the song you thought you have forgotten. Hove's Tea Olive transferred me to my happy place, where I am a small child, loved and protected, dosing off, over-excited, on the eve of something festive and gift-ful.
Happy holidays, everybody, whichever ones you choose to celebrate!
Image source, Frеd St.Jоhn, pbаse.com.