Ōn AtelierPMP - Perfume Mayr Plettenberg

Nostalgically, Pepe's pupils wandered through the inside of his small grass bag, sticking to the pitiful crumbs. He lost himself in a sea of thoughts. There were still wasps on the windowsill, but they had crackled too loudly while smoking, their venom not having the desired effect.
Placebo-Pepe didn't want to wait; he took the grass remnants into the garden, where there was a tree stump in the middle of the meadow. Above it, the crumbs were crushed, the sticky, spicy, sweet herb. Exactly that would be recreated now!
Excitedly, he began to pick basil, to tear it apart and press it between the crumbs. While it was only somewhat marijuana-like, it was wonderfully autumnal and sweet. Then he ground some pepper over it; he liked his stuff a bit spicier, bright hay and damp grass, a bit of brown resin from the tree stump, which still had some soil stuck to it and small fleeting glandular secretions. Pepe paused. The green foliage looked like dried herbs, smelled somewhat bitter, a bit sharp, and yet the resins had broken the blades' horns, or the musk ox had put his on them; Pepe would never let himself be influenced by that, as hairspray deodorant had already made itself comfortable in there. The wind should take it away. But it only did so after several hours.
**
The idea of the Hamburg label AtelierPMP, whose creators come from the smoky circles of the Wagenplatz Bambule and the Rote Flora, namely that their scents should be a rejection of superficiality, is certainly more exciting than this creation by Mark Buxton. Although there are indeed intriguing moments at the beginning of "On," when the aforementioned components seek their place, everything merges into a rather washed-out whole that personally reminds me too much of hairspray or bitter deodorant.

(With thanks to Delightful)