06/02/2020
GGaukeley
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Sisters of Destiny
A few days ago we unexpectedly came across Macbeth with Michael Fassbender in the leading role while zapping aimlessly on TV. How this congenial film adaptation of the Shakespeare drama could completely pass me by for five years is a mystery to me - since my childhood I have been a great lover of Scotland and the Middle Ages in general and a fan of witches in particular.
It hasn't happened for a long time that a film has literally taken me like this, taken me on a journey in fantastic pictures through a landscape that is harsh and mystical and yet you can't escape it. Took me into an age full of wars and bloody battles, which today is often seen from an overly romantic perspective. And taken into a story full of magic, ambition and betrayal that ends bitterly for most of the people involved as well as Macbeth and his lady herself.
What has always fascinated me most about history are the three witches and their prophecies. Even if today it is disputed whether they are witches at all or whether they are just manifesting evil forces - how they dance around their cauldron and brew the soup from which the spirits rise to answer Macbeth's ominous questions I see them before me figuratively: Three sisters, strange, old and unreal, not of this world and yet real. And as I dance with them I suddenly remember my little bottling Coven. Of course, a coven, that was these three
I had tested the fragrance several times a while ago, and the thought of forest was always in the back of my mind, since here on Parfumo the forest reference is mentioned in almost every comment. I'm talking about the most authentic forest here, the only true one, the one without a spruce needle foam bath, the mystical green deciduous forest in the mist... It's a big mistake to test a fragrance with such expectations, I predict here now completely unambiguously. Because every time I wore Coven I was somewhere in the forest, but not in mine. My forest and its scent are hard to describe and if I should find it I will let you know.
Today I wore coven again and I was thinking about witches. Witches can meet anywhere, it doesn't have to be a forest. It could be the Scottish moors, a gloomy moor, or an apartment in New York. Which I think is the closest thing to an apartment witch using coven. Because it smells like what city folk probably imagine the forest smells like. I don't think Coven is bad at all, yes, it's bitter green and moist and earthy, which I actually like very much. And it goes absolutely in the right direction, but unfortunately just before I dive into the dark forest with it it turns off and becomes vanilla, which bothers me a lot. VANILLE! If there is a sweet smell of decay somewhere in the woods I know. That is not nice, but it would fit much better into the forest in terms of scent. The New York witch, however, would be very disturbed by this and would probably prefer vanilla.
If I could recognize the whisky with a slight salt or smoke note that is mentioned here several times, the scent would have got 9 points from me. Also the witches on the storm-whipped Scottish heath would have rather tipped a shot into the cauldron instead of flavouring the brew with vanilla.
So my search for the forest and witch scent continues, but I will still wear Coven sometimes. Maybe on colder days the sweetness in me doesn't come out that way, maybe he will be my companion in autumn, when the kettle is boiling and the cat meows three times.
It hasn't happened for a long time that a film has literally taken me like this, taken me on a journey in fantastic pictures through a landscape that is harsh and mystical and yet you can't escape it. Took me into an age full of wars and bloody battles, which today is often seen from an overly romantic perspective. And taken into a story full of magic, ambition and betrayal that ends bitterly for most of the people involved as well as Macbeth and his lady herself.
What has always fascinated me most about history are the three witches and their prophecies. Even if today it is disputed whether they are witches at all or whether they are just manifesting evil forces - how they dance around their cauldron and brew the soup from which the spirits rise to answer Macbeth's ominous questions I see them before me figuratively: Three sisters, strange, old and unreal, not of this world and yet real. And as I dance with them I suddenly remember my little bottling Coven. Of course, a coven, that was these three
I had tested the fragrance several times a while ago, and the thought of forest was always in the back of my mind, since here on Parfumo the forest reference is mentioned in almost every comment. I'm talking about the most authentic forest here, the only true one, the one without a spruce needle foam bath, the mystical green deciduous forest in the mist... It's a big mistake to test a fragrance with such expectations, I predict here now completely unambiguously. Because every time I wore Coven I was somewhere in the forest, but not in mine. My forest and its scent are hard to describe and if I should find it I will let you know.
Today I wore coven again and I was thinking about witches. Witches can meet anywhere, it doesn't have to be a forest. It could be the Scottish moors, a gloomy moor, or an apartment in New York. Which I think is the closest thing to an apartment witch using coven. Because it smells like what city folk probably imagine the forest smells like. I don't think Coven is bad at all, yes, it's bitter green and moist and earthy, which I actually like very much. And it goes absolutely in the right direction, but unfortunately just before I dive into the dark forest with it it turns off and becomes vanilla, which bothers me a lot. VANILLE! If there is a sweet smell of decay somewhere in the woods I know. That is not nice, but it would fit much better into the forest in terms of scent. The New York witch, however, would be very disturbed by this and would probably prefer vanilla.
If I could recognize the whisky with a slight salt or smoke note that is mentioned here several times, the scent would have got 9 points from me. Also the witches on the storm-whipped Scottish heath would have rather tipped a shot into the cauldron instead of flavouring the brew with vanilla.
So my search for the forest and witch scent continues, but I will still wear Coven sometimes. Maybe on colder days the sweetness in me doesn't come out that way, maybe he will be my companion in autumn, when the kettle is boiling and the cat meows three times.
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