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For en mann - smell like a cultivated Viking!
A bittersweet plastic note. Such things may come out when the smell of my summer magnolia is distilled and concentrated - I believe that magnolia is a master of this bitter smell, even though it has little to do with what is standing around in my garden. The accidental start is soon captured by vanilla and lavender. In addition, the evaporation of wood, conserved according to epoch or environment, is at least imaginable. To try some reference to more northern climes: One might think of the Nydam boat at Gottorf Castle near Schleswig. The Vikings may already have devised the first conservation coating for it, the moor has given it the second, science with all its laboratory possibilities the third. Triple-preserved - nothing more is possible. This is the wood in 'Norvège'.
At the same time, sandy-creamy-vanilla warmth and ethereal, diffuse spices scent, which at any rate I can't sharpen as precisely as the details. So far this mixes a little unsteady and unhappy. After a long and thoughtful debate, which reminds me, the penny finally falls: It smells like carons 'Pour un Homme', grotesquely alienated with plastic, varnished wood etc.
Aha, the "Stiftung Schleswig-Holsteinische Landesmuseen Schloss Gottorf" obviously goes merchandising! Two products are now available in the souvenir shop: 1. 'For en mann' - "Smell like a cultivated Viking from Norway on a raid in southern France". Next to it stands (2.) an involuntary caricature of said Viking in the form of a carelessly painted Made-in-China figure made of cheap plastic and with horns on the helmet. Great.
Certainly there is also a genuine citric note involved (bergamot or the like) and not only the corresponding fortune of the coriander. And lo and behold, lemon is even called lemon! Hides shamefacedly in an unusual little place: in Herznotenhausen at the very back. But I honestly figured it out on my own. Rather infertile, primarily acidic and bitter. Not really fresh. In style similar to the opening of Tauers 'Vetiver Dance'.
But most of all I can't get away from plastic. I can only assume that here cheekily stretched out sandelfingers and bluntly bitter citric acid have forged a bad plot. It doesn't help me that around noon other spice, especially thyme, will join in a collective attempt at whitewashing. The approach remains too timid and in the end the smell of a freshly unpacked character of the cheapest kind wins again.
Until the end, into the evening, the nastily mountainmooty sting haunts me and finally manages to make me suddenly think of gently puked wax. For a while I still think listlessly whether there is now a remnant of another fruit in the game, less pointed than the lemon - maybe nimm2-Neroli. And maybe a touch of floral and a little of our sandal cream. Never mind.
Conclusion: out of round and on top of that of miserable mood. I don't like this.
I thank Ergoproxy for the sample.
At the same time, sandy-creamy-vanilla warmth and ethereal, diffuse spices scent, which at any rate I can't sharpen as precisely as the details. So far this mixes a little unsteady and unhappy. After a long and thoughtful debate, which reminds me, the penny finally falls: It smells like carons 'Pour un Homme', grotesquely alienated with plastic, varnished wood etc.
Aha, the "Stiftung Schleswig-Holsteinische Landesmuseen Schloss Gottorf" obviously goes merchandising! Two products are now available in the souvenir shop: 1. 'For en mann' - "Smell like a cultivated Viking from Norway on a raid in southern France". Next to it stands (2.) an involuntary caricature of said Viking in the form of a carelessly painted Made-in-China figure made of cheap plastic and with horns on the helmet. Great.
Certainly there is also a genuine citric note involved (bergamot or the like) and not only the corresponding fortune of the coriander. And lo and behold, lemon is even called lemon! Hides shamefacedly in an unusual little place: in Herznotenhausen at the very back. But I honestly figured it out on my own. Rather infertile, primarily acidic and bitter. Not really fresh. In style similar to the opening of Tauers 'Vetiver Dance'.
But most of all I can't get away from plastic. I can only assume that here cheekily stretched out sandelfingers and bluntly bitter citric acid have forged a bad plot. It doesn't help me that around noon other spice, especially thyme, will join in a collective attempt at whitewashing. The approach remains too timid and in the end the smell of a freshly unpacked character of the cheapest kind wins again.
Until the end, into the evening, the nastily mountainmooty sting haunts me and finally manages to make me suddenly think of gently puked wax. For a while I still think listlessly whether there is now a remnant of another fruit in the game, less pointed than the lemon - maybe nimm2-Neroli. And maybe a touch of floral and a little of our sandal cream. Never mind.
Conclusion: out of round and on top of that of miserable mood. I don't like this.
I thank Ergoproxy for the sample.
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Meggi
