Lady Primrose's Tryst Perfume

I like the idea of having a signature scent, and I think I've cultivated mine despite the bans on scents at work (at which I spend most of my scent cultivating time). I found a bottle of Tryst dusting silk (or powder, for us laypersons) at a boutique store in Cedarburg, Wisconsin years ago and it was exactly what I was looking for.

This is how the perfumer (or nez) describes it:

Inspirations: Glamorous, opulent, dazzling. A couture style.

Fragrance Notes: Sophisticated floral. Green florals, white jasmine, fleur d'orangery.

To me it's delicate, ladylike, and unassuming. The kind of thing a boyfriend wouldn't hate. It reminds me of an Edwardian white lace lawn dress. And it's what I imagine Anne Shirley smelled like when she told Gilbert she didn't want diamond sunbursts or marble halls.

When my last boyfriend was off exploring foreign lands for the entire summer I would softly dust my letters to him in Tryst. He told me it got him through those three months. And he still remarks on it, sighing deeply to drink in the scent. And that was my mission after all. I wanted a scent that relaxes and seduces in a guileless, come hither sort of way.