When I put it on, I was reminded of Debby H's comment about the aesthetics of samples.
I agree that the usual sampling experience is highly unsatisfactory. Wearing a drop or two of something magnificent is lovely. Prying a plastic cap off a recalcitrant vial and then arguing with the vial until it deposits the right amount on the right spot - or until it doesn't, and you've accidentally perfumed your necklace, watchband, or floor - is not. There's no ceremony. No glamor. Perfume, I think, should have glamor.
So what's this got to do with Un Lys? Well, the lack of glamor particularly bothered me with Un Lys. It's rich and feminine and carefully crafted, and even a drop can fill the space around me. So each drop seemed to deserve respect.
So I gave my Un Lys sample a more appropriate home, decanting it into a pretty little half-ounce dabber bottle. It does seem to make all the difference. Instead of arguing with an ill-mannered vial, I can gently tip the bottle to wet the stopper (OK, I have to turn it upside down; it's a small sample), and ceremonially dab the perfume on my pulse points.
Of course, only samples or decants that I already love get this special housing - the first sniff remains unglamorous. If I have high expectations for a sample, I may decant the vial into a cheap sprayer. I suppose that I could try to add a bit more ceremony to this - no glamor to speak of, but a sort of mad scientist lab-bench puttering as systematically transform my vial samples into neatly labelled inexpensive glass sprayers arrayed in rows in, well, some container.
None of this fundamentally transforms the sampling experience - and it does make it more expensive - but it's a start.
Photo of Sarah Bernhardt: Wikimedia Commons.
Photo of bottles: Mine.