05/31/2020

FvSpee
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FvSpee
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Colonia instead of Corona, No. 15: Viva Colonia! Viva Alvarez! Viva Espana
In this series dedicated to fresh, citric colognes, I have so far dealt with German and French, and on the side also with Italian, Turkish and Czech colognes. There are still (at least) two major cologne nations missing, which I would like to turn my attention to a bit more now.
It's a pleasure to start with Spain, because with this country and me it's like really good friendships or really great love: it always takes very little fuel to light a bright fire. I have only been to Spain very rarely, but the few visits, even if they were decades ago, I remember (unlike on many other trips) almost to the minute and always with great joy. I only learned Spanish for a very short time, but what little I learned stuck, and the hard sound of the language is like music to me. Spanish literature I hardly read, and rather unusual books, but the few works always touched me deeply (Calderón, Baltasar Gracián, Jorge Guillén for example). The list could be continued. Therefore, it cannot be excluded that this comment is stained by "positive prejudices": maybe it would have been only 8.5 points if the scent came from Tajikistan (hey, you Tajiks: of course I was just kidding!).
This "Colonia Concentrada" (I have no idea what "Cologne Concentrée" actually is and where the difference to an eau de toilette lies) is, as can be seen from the other comments and from internet research (especially on the manufacturer's website: https://alvarezgomez.com, the classic of the house Alvarez Gomez; and the house Alvarez Gomez is supposedly the Spanish original colognist, the Farina of the Iberian Peninsula, so to speak. According to the official history of the company, three young cousins from northern Spain set off for Madrid to make their fortune, hired as apprentices from an old druggist and took over the business when the latter retired without an inheritance. A traveller pointed out to them that in Germany and France they used "Kölnisch Wasser", a refreshing water made from citrus and herbal scents. The cousins said to each other: "In this heat, Madrid is a much better market than Cologne, and the best lemons grow right outside the door anyway. And so in 1912 this scent was developed, which is said to have remained unchanged since then. In Spain, you can get it with the corresponding soap, shower gel and what-no-even at every corner, and of which there are several flankers and by-products (like an after-show body splash, a "cologne for babies" and an orange flanker) that are not even listed in the perfume database. In Germany, "Agua de Colonia Concentrada" is only available from a few online perfumeries, in the 400-ml splash bottle or in the handbag-compatible compact 80-ml sprayer. The stuff is not for free, but still very inexpensive.
Alvarez Gomez Agua de Colonia Concentrada opens with a wonderful, spicy, rich dark yellow, extremely lively lemon note, to which foreign hesperidics (especially bergamot and orange) seem to be only minimally added. This lemon indeed smells like hand-picked, maximally balanced aromatic organic lemons from a market stall in Madrid, where chefs also buy (especially after the peel and oil). This is quickly joined by a strong, but never further forward than a shot of fine, powdery lavender that reaches up to the second row. Next, perhaps after about ten minutes, I feel massive herbs and spices; both green (rosemary and especially thyme are plausible) and, as Fittleworth also noticed, unspecified "brown" (cloves and perhaps aniseed). Nevertheless, the finely spicy, highly aromatic lemon oil scent remains clear, which is why this cologne never mutates into a spice cologne in the style of "Tabac Original", but always remains "yellow" at its core.
The rose geranium that disturbed Turandot, I do not perceive at all, which is certainly due to me. What is a mystery to me is the eucalyptus, which is set in particularly large letters at the top of the fragrances, which probably means that many perfumers find it particularly massive. I don't perceive a specific eucalyptus smell (in the style of cough drops, rubbing alcohol & Co) at all. I can only detect the trace of eucalyptus in the enormously fresh aura, in a certain green-spicy impact and in the high durability of the fragrance (at currently about 20 degrees about 1-2 hours with a clear projection plus 2-3 hours very close)
Due to the strong herbal impact, Agua de Colonia Concentrada has something tart and crisp, which makes the fragrance appear rather masculine at first sight. However, it has been conceived and received as unisex for over 100 years and, as the comments of Palonera and Florblanca show, it also has very feminine friends. I am sure that this will work. 20 million Spanish women cannot be wrong. At the same time, and in a certain tension to this creakiness, this Alvarez Gomez (which Carlitos emphasized in his beautiful commentary of about four weeks ago, but which he apparently deleted again) radiates something very clear, light and cheerful; you immediately want to jump through fields of herbs and throw lemons at each other.
The wonderful, long-lasting interplay of aromatic, rich lemon and the harmonious combination of equally strong herbs and spices makes this cologne very distinctive for me. This proves that within the (supposedly) narrow boundaries of the genre "citric cologne" there are whole continents that are fun to wander through!
It's a pleasure to start with Spain, because with this country and me it's like really good friendships or really great love: it always takes very little fuel to light a bright fire. I have only been to Spain very rarely, but the few visits, even if they were decades ago, I remember (unlike on many other trips) almost to the minute and always with great joy. I only learned Spanish for a very short time, but what little I learned stuck, and the hard sound of the language is like music to me. Spanish literature I hardly read, and rather unusual books, but the few works always touched me deeply (Calderón, Baltasar Gracián, Jorge Guillén for example). The list could be continued. Therefore, it cannot be excluded that this comment is stained by "positive prejudices": maybe it would have been only 8.5 points if the scent came from Tajikistan (hey, you Tajiks: of course I was just kidding!).
This "Colonia Concentrada" (I have no idea what "Cologne Concentrée" actually is and where the difference to an eau de toilette lies) is, as can be seen from the other comments and from internet research (especially on the manufacturer's website: https://alvarezgomez.com, the classic of the house Alvarez Gomez; and the house Alvarez Gomez is supposedly the Spanish original colognist, the Farina of the Iberian Peninsula, so to speak. According to the official history of the company, three young cousins from northern Spain set off for Madrid to make their fortune, hired as apprentices from an old druggist and took over the business when the latter retired without an inheritance. A traveller pointed out to them that in Germany and France they used "Kölnisch Wasser", a refreshing water made from citrus and herbal scents. The cousins said to each other: "In this heat, Madrid is a much better market than Cologne, and the best lemons grow right outside the door anyway. And so in 1912 this scent was developed, which is said to have remained unchanged since then. In Spain, you can get it with the corresponding soap, shower gel and what-no-even at every corner, and of which there are several flankers and by-products (like an after-show body splash, a "cologne for babies" and an orange flanker) that are not even listed in the perfume database. In Germany, "Agua de Colonia Concentrada" is only available from a few online perfumeries, in the 400-ml splash bottle or in the handbag-compatible compact 80-ml sprayer. The stuff is not for free, but still very inexpensive.
Alvarez Gomez Agua de Colonia Concentrada opens with a wonderful, spicy, rich dark yellow, extremely lively lemon note, to which foreign hesperidics (especially bergamot and orange) seem to be only minimally added. This lemon indeed smells like hand-picked, maximally balanced aromatic organic lemons from a market stall in Madrid, where chefs also buy (especially after the peel and oil). This is quickly joined by a strong, but never further forward than a shot of fine, powdery lavender that reaches up to the second row. Next, perhaps after about ten minutes, I feel massive herbs and spices; both green (rosemary and especially thyme are plausible) and, as Fittleworth also noticed, unspecified "brown" (cloves and perhaps aniseed). Nevertheless, the finely spicy, highly aromatic lemon oil scent remains clear, which is why this cologne never mutates into a spice cologne in the style of "Tabac Original", but always remains "yellow" at its core.
The rose geranium that disturbed Turandot, I do not perceive at all, which is certainly due to me. What is a mystery to me is the eucalyptus, which is set in particularly large letters at the top of the fragrances, which probably means that many perfumers find it particularly massive. I don't perceive a specific eucalyptus smell (in the style of cough drops, rubbing alcohol & Co) at all. I can only detect the trace of eucalyptus in the enormously fresh aura, in a certain green-spicy impact and in the high durability of the fragrance (at currently about 20 degrees about 1-2 hours with a clear projection plus 2-3 hours very close)
Due to the strong herbal impact, Agua de Colonia Concentrada has something tart and crisp, which makes the fragrance appear rather masculine at first sight. However, it has been conceived and received as unisex for over 100 years and, as the comments of Palonera and Florblanca show, it also has very feminine friends. I am sure that this will work. 20 million Spanish women cannot be wrong. At the same time, and in a certain tension to this creakiness, this Alvarez Gomez (which Carlitos emphasized in his beautiful commentary of about four weeks ago, but which he apparently deleted again) radiates something very clear, light and cheerful; you immediately want to jump through fields of herbs and throw lemons at each other.
The wonderful, long-lasting interplay of aromatic, rich lemon and the harmonious combination of equally strong herbs and spices makes this cologne very distinctive for me. This proves that within the (supposedly) narrow boundaries of the genre "citric cologne" there are whole continents that are fun to wander through!
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