Cereal Milk.

Colornoise's Cereal Milk arrives as a peculiar collision between the powdered sweetness of a breakfast bowl and the luminous florality of a baroque perfumer's palette. The opening assault of aldehydes—those metallic, slightly soapy molecules that dominated early twentieth-century composition—wrestles with a bright citrus trinity of bergamot, neroli, and orange, creating an initial impression of candied citrus peel dusted with talc. It's uncomfortable, almost deliberate in its refusal to comfort.

What distinguishes this fragrance from the safer florals of its era is the unexpected garden rot lurking within the heart: mildew creeping beneath a lush arrangement of narcissus and lily of the valley. This is not a clean white floral. The mildew note—likely an unintended consequence or perhaps a dated material that has oxidised poorly—introduces a damp, earthy ambiguity that transforms the rose and jasmine into something less polished, almost fevered. The ylang ylang, normally honeyed and creamy, turns slightly sour against this backdrop, as though the cereal milk has begun to ferment.