Zino Davidoff 1986 Eau de Toilette

As a young-at-heart man in my late forties, my perfume cabinet finally needed a refresh. I hadn’t really taken care of replenishing my collection for a long time and diligently wore my Ultraviolet by Paco Rabanne and my Givenchy Play Intense. Now, I wanted something new or rather something old that reminded me of the beginnings of my daily "oiling" around 25 years ago. Unfortunately, most of my favorites from back then are no longer available: no Bogner Man, no Lagerfeld Photo, no Davidoff Good Life.

Through this forum, I stumbled upon Zino, which I didn’t know from before, and which is available for a mere 20 euros for 100 ml on Amazon. I have no idea if it’s the original or a counterfeit. I ordered blindly and was surprised by a sillage that is unmatched and that I could still perceive even after showering.

But let’s get to the most important part: the scent itself. Given its year of release, I have to resort to old-fashioned words and movie quotes here. Davidoff Zino is a real, unrefined roughneck. "Yippie Ya Yeah, piggy!" one might want to shout, because this scent roars just like that, in my opinion. A shrill performance that I associate with the color squeaky yellow.

Which brings us to the problem. I am not an olfactory expert, I don’t pick out the finest nuances of any essence; on the contrary: what Zino reminds me of most is ginger, even though it’s not even on the "ingredient list." However, since raspberry flavoring for the food industry is often derived from cedarwood these days, that doesn’t necessarily mean anything, right?! Two spritzes were enough, and I felt like I was bathed in ginger lemonade. Later, leather and vanilla joined in (for me personally, mind you). At first, I was quite taken with this scent cocktail, but over the course of an evening in the club, I could no longer stand my own scent.

What I want to give Zino credit for is its uniqueness far from the mainstream. It fits very well into the popcorn cinema of the 1980s, and when I think of the right types, Bruce Willis and Terence Hill come to mind quite quickly (for whatever reason). However, for me, that’s not it: too shrill, too unbalanced, too penetrating. And while I’m at it, embarrassing myself: where is the ginger freshness that is mentioned nowhere but that I smell above all else???