The initially taken Russian path has led us into the dead end of a meat and sausage department. Therefore, it should be left for now. We are turning our attention to more southern and leather-free regions for the time being.
Brummel (product) by Brummel (brand) from the Puig group, a Cologne that I became aware of a long time ago but only acquired and tested on the occasion of this comment series, is something like the prototype of what I had envisioned with the term "brown Colognes" - and in this respect, it is a true Cologne milestone for me!
On one hand, we have a truly light, bright, fresh, not headache-inducing mysterious, but still beautifully finely complex woven, unconditionally heat-appropriate summer water with rich hesperidic notes (I would most likely guess bergamot and lemon in that order) and perhaps also lavender. The longevity is characteristically Cologne-like, rather modest.
On the other hand, there is a beautiful grounding counterpoint of spicy (I perceive clove here), woody, and also soapy notes. This complexity never dominates (and thus Brummel differs from the also very lovely Tabac Original), but allows the cheerful citrus to always take the lead, while still playing a well-heard second fiddle.
By the way, Brummel reminds me, albeit distantly, but still clearly, of Grey Flannel, which was created coincidentally or not in the same year. This kinship seems to be recognized by others as well, as Geoffrey Beene's classic is mentioned here in the right column under "... often liked by..."!
Our Brummelbär is not only a true seventies scent but also a proud Spaniard. Without being able to scientifically substantiate it, it seems to me, much like Floid, to have a thoroughly Iberian DNA (somewhere else, I had once expressed the thesis of a specific Habsburg woodiness that particularly shows in Spanish and Austrian fragrances). It fits well that Brummel was created by Rosendo Mateu, a perfumer who has caught my attention positively several times and has created many well-known and famous fragrances throughout his long and productive career, always for Spanish fragrance houses with very few Italian exceptions.
Against the excellent comment from Parfumo's Bernard (side note: he has gone silent here on Parfumo after his Brummel comment, I hope this is not an omen for me), which I recommend as a complementary read, I would like to raise two very gentle objections.
Of course, at first glance, there is an almost comically glaring imbalance between this solid, everyday wearable scent and the highly eccentric and somewhat sad historical figure of "Beau Brummel" (who ultimately was also a failed eccentric, to put it bluntly). However, Brummel's fashion style, despite all its craziness, was never flamboyant. From that perspective, the name might fit better than one might think.
And regarding the (somehow also boring) question of the wearer's age: Yes, I can excellently imagine the scent on a gray-haired Señor from Malaga or Burgos. But Dios mio, a solid, well-made classic is always appropriate. Since Brummel is also hardly known in this country (unlike in Spain, where it is still a bestseller, even as an aftershave) and therefore does not trigger any gerontological head cinema, why shouldn't a young German, whom the scent profile appeals to, test it and wear it if he likes it?
Brummel is also available through the "Spain specialist" parfumsclub. This online provider seems to use the same translation machine with a guarantee of wittiness as the Czech manufacturer Alpa, as it states about Brummel: "Brummel is a colony inspired by the aristocrat George Brummel from the 18th century, who set the trend in England for his style, elegance, sophistication, and seductive character. The bottle reflects a very classic and elegant image. Its aroma is lemony, floral, spicy with wood, leather, and musk. Perfect for the classic and elegant man."
There are also the typically Spanish giant splash bottles of this colony; I ordered the 100-ml spray bottle for 11.90 euros. In honor of this: It may have a somewhat cheap plastic cap, but it disperses a beautifully fine mist. And above all, it looks like a bottle, is pleasantly functional, and fits space-savingly in the fragrance cabinet. Such boring designs are a thousand times more preferable to me than hyper-strained original bottle creations like the landscape-format bottles from Vilhelm Parfümerie. My very pragmatically inclined father would say about those: "Great toilet bowl, even made of gold, just forgot the hole to sit on."