Onda feels like being caught in a staring match with a very hungry tiger. But no one should be foolish enough to put money on the cat.
It’s the deepest, darkest growl of vetiver, raised to blood heat with ginger, coriander, and mace, rolling around in a bed of oakmoss and patchouli and not leather, but the skin of a living animal. Vero Kern’s Onda, in voile or extrait, is thrillingly, fiercely sexy.
originally posted 30 April 2019, additional photo July 2019