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Notes01/22/2021
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42
Flash Commentary: Aberzombie & Flittch
CHAPTER
No, this has nothing to do with wool. Here I just wanted to explain that I have actually fangelt (subtle allusion to the origin of the company!) this fragrance (thank you, Flaconesse!) to review it as part of one of my Cologne series. It's also called Cologne, but despite the stated citric notes and rosemary, it presents itself as absolutely not connectable to any of the typical colognistic clans, which is why I'm treating it as an uncologne (subtle allusion to the undead from the title) and commenting on it separately.
CORPORATE
I was previously only vaguely familiar with the Abercrombie & Fitch brand by name. The research collective I specially commissioned, Wiki & Pedia, determined that this was, in origin, a New York company that was initially involved primarily in the sale of fishing tackle and then, before the war, in the importation of mah-jongg games from China. The company then went under (no wonder with such erratic thematic politics), with only the company name hawked separately, and then, after all sorts of obscure capitalist transformations, at some point mutated back into a separate company, primarily for clothing.
Apparently it is one of those companies that is fully aware of its environmental, social and ethical responsibilities, as it hit the headlines for complaints about, among other things, excessive odour nuisance from clouds of perfume billowing from its stores, exploitative manufacturing conditions for its clothes in Bangladesh and the sale of thongs for 10-year-olds.
CAPUT
Looking at the bottle, the first thing that stands out is that it is shaped like a man with a wooden head. Only upon careful examination does it become apparent that the cylindrical artifact at the top of the bottle is precisely not this person's thinking cap, but merely a cap.
The person depicted (torso) is Leberecht-Baptist Schlönzke, the long-standing chief executive of the Oberlausitz district group of the Deutsche Kant-Gesellschaft e.V.
After leaving the association in the bitter (to which the name "Fierce" alludes) dispute over the question of whether a transcendental aesthetics in the sense of the Critique of Pure Reason could also be conceived if space and time did not claim validity precisely as a priori sensory views, he turned to a second career as a model as an act of rebellion.
The shutter-head idea, as is well known, represents an allusion to the novella "the swapped heads" by Thomas Mann (1940).
COLOGNE
I find the scent really, really, really awful, unfortunately. I am him, I can only assure, unprejudiced faced and felt in no way the inner need to kick him because of his somewhat chavvy Daherkommen in the barrel. On the contrary, I actually find it quite funny, and I like the name "Fierce" too.
Still, for the life of me, I can't agree with the benevolent assessments (e.g. Pollita, Leimbacher, Val), but sign with gusto with the condemnation faction (e.g. Terra) or cum grano salis with the midfield skeptics (e.g. Parma, Salva, Basti87).
Fierce performs moderately (weak would have been clearly preferable). The actually not so terribly long shelf life stretches, however, by the complete linearity of the fragrance in combination with its horribly penetrating unimaginativeness to a perceived eternity.
In terms of content, this aberzombie impresses with an inescapably moronic grinning at the wearer, tightly screwed and doweled apparatus of a truly vicious aquatic shower gel-freshness soup (which, in contrast to the naturalness and beauty pretending fragrance note statements such as "fir resin", "cardamom" and "rosewood" seem like cynical kicks in the face) with generic-mean spices that only make it seem more penetrating (yes, penetrating) and cheaply bombastic florals that only make it seem more cloying.
CONTRAST
It was for me - I assure all who like this fragrance of my sincere respect - in testing this liquefact a traumatizing olfactory experience that awakens the need to reassure oneself elsewhere in the world that there is still such a thing as the true, good and beautiful
So tonight, even though I found her gestures a bit too pathetic, I will have to watch the wonderful Amanda Gorman's poetry recital in full again.
No, this has nothing to do with wool. Here I just wanted to explain that I have actually fangelt (subtle allusion to the origin of the company!) this fragrance (thank you, Flaconesse!) to review it as part of one of my Cologne series. It's also called Cologne, but despite the stated citric notes and rosemary, it presents itself as absolutely not connectable to any of the typical colognistic clans, which is why I'm treating it as an uncologne (subtle allusion to the undead from the title) and commenting on it separately.
CORPORATE
I was previously only vaguely familiar with the Abercrombie & Fitch brand by name. The research collective I specially commissioned, Wiki & Pedia, determined that this was, in origin, a New York company that was initially involved primarily in the sale of fishing tackle and then, before the war, in the importation of mah-jongg games from China. The company then went under (no wonder with such erratic thematic politics), with only the company name hawked separately, and then, after all sorts of obscure capitalist transformations, at some point mutated back into a separate company, primarily for clothing.
Apparently it is one of those companies that is fully aware of its environmental, social and ethical responsibilities, as it hit the headlines for complaints about, among other things, excessive odour nuisance from clouds of perfume billowing from its stores, exploitative manufacturing conditions for its clothes in Bangladesh and the sale of thongs for 10-year-olds.
CAPUT
Looking at the bottle, the first thing that stands out is that it is shaped like a man with a wooden head. Only upon careful examination does it become apparent that the cylindrical artifact at the top of the bottle is precisely not this person's thinking cap, but merely a cap.
The person depicted (torso) is Leberecht-Baptist Schlönzke, the long-standing chief executive of the Oberlausitz district group of the Deutsche Kant-Gesellschaft e.V.
After leaving the association in the bitter (to which the name "Fierce" alludes) dispute over the question of whether a transcendental aesthetics in the sense of the Critique of Pure Reason could also be conceived if space and time did not claim validity precisely as a priori sensory views, he turned to a second career as a model as an act of rebellion.
The shutter-head idea, as is well known, represents an allusion to the novella "the swapped heads" by Thomas Mann (1940).
COLOGNE
I find the scent really, really, really awful, unfortunately. I am him, I can only assure, unprejudiced faced and felt in no way the inner need to kick him because of his somewhat chavvy Daherkommen in the barrel. On the contrary, I actually find it quite funny, and I like the name "Fierce" too.
Still, for the life of me, I can't agree with the benevolent assessments (e.g. Pollita, Leimbacher, Val), but sign with gusto with the condemnation faction (e.g. Terra) or cum grano salis with the midfield skeptics (e.g. Parma, Salva, Basti87).
Fierce performs moderately (weak would have been clearly preferable). The actually not so terribly long shelf life stretches, however, by the complete linearity of the fragrance in combination with its horribly penetrating unimaginativeness to a perceived eternity.
In terms of content, this aberzombie impresses with an inescapably moronic grinning at the wearer, tightly screwed and doweled apparatus of a truly vicious aquatic shower gel-freshness soup (which, in contrast to the naturalness and beauty pretending fragrance note statements such as "fir resin", "cardamom" and "rosewood" seem like cynical kicks in the face) with generic-mean spices that only make it seem more penetrating (yes, penetrating) and cheaply bombastic florals that only make it seem more cloying.
CONTRAST
It was for me - I assure all who like this fragrance of my sincere respect - in testing this liquefact a traumatizing olfactory experience that awakens the need to reassure oneself elsewhere in the world that there is still such a thing as the true, good and beautiful
So tonight, even though I found her gestures a bit too pathetic, I will have to watch the wonderful Amanda Gorman's poetry recital in full again.
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