The BREEZE of ESCAPISM
SIGHT and SMELL
Short essay inspired by LOEWE Paula’s Ibiza Eau de Toilette.
THE BREEZE OF ESCAPISM
On a late spring day, a sailor named José embarked on a journey of self-liberation, letting the sea breeze carry him across the sky, through time and space. Among fierce animals, frangipani and coconut palm trees, he saw the source of the pain that’d been growing inside his body for the last time, finding the strength to leave the memory of her behind.
When a cool breeze started blowing, José was lying under the midday sun, looking as innocent as a newborn baby. A few years before, he’d been injured while sailing through a storm and, since then, sunbathing had been his main occupation. In fact, as if he’d magically turned into an exotic lizard, the sun was the only source of nourishment that would keep him alive. Mind you, there were no scars on his feverish body, because the wounds he’d been inflicted weren’t physical. Anyhow, there’s no denying José was a seaman and he should’ve realised, on such a hot spring day, that something was in the air, that something was coming all the way from the sea. All of a sudden, the smell of the first lilies of the season enveloped José, taking him down memory lane. A few moments later, he found himself back into the wild, surrounded by coconut palm trees, frangipani and other tropical flowers. José recognised the foreign land where he’d lost himself right away. Down there, among fierce animals, José saw her again, the young savage who’d stolen his lonely heart and run away. Her amber eyes, her tangerine lips and vanilla-scented hair looked as bewitching as José could remember. After all, Lis was the most carnal flower gracing such a dangerous garden, as well as the ruin of many sailors on the hunt for a semblance of love. Our very protagonist stood up, in a vain attempt to reach out and touch her, and screamed that girl’s name, finally setting himself free and committing the burden he could feel inside to the wind.
Credits: Art Direction by Sara Ferraris / Text by Marco Martello / Photo by Gaia Bonanomi