09/03/2020
Parfümlein
119 Reviews
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Parfümlein
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A wide field
What do you do after a long day at work? You're bored, you don't have a show to watch, you don't feel like doing housework, you don't enjoy cooking, you don't have the energy for sports, all you can do is lie exhausted on the bed and think about how long you want to stay in this hamster wheel.
This is what happened today. But: Perfumas and Parfumos of course have it better than most people, because they can still test themselves a little through their collection, that also works lying down and is often highly inspiring.
So I unsuspectingly resorted to a small bottling, which I had praised in the highest tones months ago: Last night.
And that was highly inspiring, indeed - because I come and I come and I don't get what this fragrance reminds me of. And it is by no means a vague memory, not a "something like", but a clear statement, a hundred percent congruence, of which I am speaking here.
Well - no matter how sure I am that I know this fragrance inside and out, I still don't get it. It makes me extremely nervous, also a bit irritated, but also absolutely wide awake. I can absolutely attest this positive awakening effect to the perfume.
If you can't remember what a scent reminds you of, you usually have to remember quite a long way back, and I convulsively think about what was there before, what smelled like Last night, overlook my meagre existence, let images pass in front of my inner eye at the speed of light.
And I see my mother and me running to the mangle, one hand each on the laundry basket with the freshly starched, only cupboard dry laundry in it.
Is it that smell? Of ironing starch, of liquid starch, this absolutely clean, snow-white scent that I perceive here in all its one-dimensionality? I'm not one hundred percent sure yet.
But I'm quite sure about this: The small pocket atomizer, which has been stored for months in the pitch-dark perfume cabinet, smells neither of rose nor of smoke nor of leather.
I continue to rack my brains, my nose close to the back of my hand, my eyes closed tightly, a picture of my father with a bottle of hair tonic in his hand, no, my nose shakes my head vigorously, that's not it.
Slowly a clearer picture emerges before me, the picture of a bathtub with a running stream of hot water, the picture of a bath additive pouring green into the tub. Which one is it? I still can't figure it out and I am beginning to doubt, to doubt, to doubt what I was bathing in when I lived with my parents...
Yes, it is. I'm now quite certain that we had a bath additive that smelled exactly the same. I admit it, I am ashamed that I cannot be more specific. Unfortunately I have no idea at the moment, but I will contact my siblings, I promise. One thing I can say in any case: I am disappointed, excessively. Even as a child I found the smell very annoying. That hasn't changed until today. I find it all the more regrettable that I bought this fragrance as a perfume, but I can rejoice that it is only a small bottling. I rarely feel the desire to smell like a full bathtub. It is what it is, and this comment has little to say that is constructive, except perhaps about the compulsive construction of memory, and I hope you will forgive me for this, as well as my now much worse evaluation of this niche fragrance, which I would never want to wear again. After all, this is what the evolving perception of perfume really is: a wide field.
This is what happened today. But: Perfumas and Parfumos of course have it better than most people, because they can still test themselves a little through their collection, that also works lying down and is often highly inspiring.
So I unsuspectingly resorted to a small bottling, which I had praised in the highest tones months ago: Last night.
And that was highly inspiring, indeed - because I come and I come and I don't get what this fragrance reminds me of. And it is by no means a vague memory, not a "something like", but a clear statement, a hundred percent congruence, of which I am speaking here.
Well - no matter how sure I am that I know this fragrance inside and out, I still don't get it. It makes me extremely nervous, also a bit irritated, but also absolutely wide awake. I can absolutely attest this positive awakening effect to the perfume.
If you can't remember what a scent reminds you of, you usually have to remember quite a long way back, and I convulsively think about what was there before, what smelled like Last night, overlook my meagre existence, let images pass in front of my inner eye at the speed of light.
And I see my mother and me running to the mangle, one hand each on the laundry basket with the freshly starched, only cupboard dry laundry in it.
Is it that smell? Of ironing starch, of liquid starch, this absolutely clean, snow-white scent that I perceive here in all its one-dimensionality? I'm not one hundred percent sure yet.
But I'm quite sure about this: The small pocket atomizer, which has been stored for months in the pitch-dark perfume cabinet, smells neither of rose nor of smoke nor of leather.
I continue to rack my brains, my nose close to the back of my hand, my eyes closed tightly, a picture of my father with a bottle of hair tonic in his hand, no, my nose shakes my head vigorously, that's not it.
Slowly a clearer picture emerges before me, the picture of a bathtub with a running stream of hot water, the picture of a bath additive pouring green into the tub. Which one is it? I still can't figure it out and I am beginning to doubt, to doubt, to doubt what I was bathing in when I lived with my parents...
Yes, it is. I'm now quite certain that we had a bath additive that smelled exactly the same. I admit it, I am ashamed that I cannot be more specific. Unfortunately I have no idea at the moment, but I will contact my siblings, I promise. One thing I can say in any case: I am disappointed, excessively. Even as a child I found the smell very annoying. That hasn't changed until today. I find it all the more regrettable that I bought this fragrance as a perfume, but I can rejoice that it is only a small bottling. I rarely feel the desire to smell like a full bathtub. It is what it is, and this comment has little to say that is constructive, except perhaps about the compulsive construction of memory, and I hope you will forgive me for this, as well as my now much worse evaluation of this niche fragrance, which I would never want to wear again. After all, this is what the evolving perception of perfume really is: a wide field.
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