... and warm and soft: with these words I outline my overall impression of Sandalo. It was my first encounter with dominant wood and moved in with me on a cold, dry, bare, sun-glinting late winter day.
It couldn't have come at a more fitting time, as my association with this fragrance was immediately: bright, sparse, dry, but still with a certain warmth and softness. The latter impression does not stem from the soothing, shy warming rays of the February sun, nor from a possible hint of spring in the air, but from something else... But more on that later.
I spray Sandalo on, and immediately I smell the wood, just for a brief moment, two blinks of an eye, as if it wants to introduce itself as the main character before being overtaken by a citrus-fresh wave. Bitter orange and lemon do their job well, a sharp freshness rises up, the wood has to step back to the second row (at least), and the already delicate Miss Rose takes it along with her.
Slowly, the citrus wave recedes, and now sandalwood can rise again. Miss Rose remains seated in the second row, while a little amber note winks at us, it too seems to want to introduce itself briefly before its actual appearance comes later. The sandalwood now unfolds all its skill and splendor in the most beautiful way, it is so exquisite and fine, very dry yet soft and warm. Just so it avoids a dusty impression, in this respect my title is not 100% accurate, forgive me, but I can't help but think of Fever Ray's "Dry & Dusty" when experiencing Sandalo:
Never leave me
Walk close beside me
Your hand, my hand
Fits so easy
No tomorrow
Let us stop here
We did some great things
Didn't we? ...
For that is how I perceive Sandalo: like walking hand in hand with someone I really like. A warm, firm hand that envelops my soft hand, determined and secure, we are only in the here and now, which evokes a deep sense of well-being in me. It has a touch of sensuality, but rather of the romantic kind, and perhaps it is this that my predecessors referred to as "clean, warm, idealized body skin." For I really do not want to be reminded here of showers and cleanliness, of any aversion to *real* physicality.
But I too think of warm skin, I also smell a hint of peppery-salty skin accord, so a bit of sweat must indeed be present, and it makes Sandalo somewhat organic and alive. And I perceive Sandalo as rather masculine: HE wears Sandalo, not I, and I can delicately sense his light, spicy sweat as we briefly embrace and my nose and lips accidentally brush against his neck.
Perhaps my rather masculine association is rooted in my inability to perceive the discreet rose, which I can only detect with great effort - let alone any other floral notes - and Sandalo is never sweet on me at any time. Rather, it brings a hint of earthiness with it, which gives it a certain darker depth as it develops, the sharpness blurs, it weakens, and Sandalo becomes "rounder" and warmer. However, it is never sweet or opulent, despite the distinctly noticeable amber: this too is rather on the dry side and has nothing oily about it.
The sillage is not overwhelming, but certainly perceptible in a reduced manner to the environment, which I personally find optimal, even if Sandalo, due to its special skin association, is almost an "intimate" scent for me. But since we are just walking hand in hand and occasionally stopping to embrace each other gently, that fits again ;-).
Fortunately, Sandalo lasts longer than a winter walk at noon, it endures the whole day, and at the end of such a day, I conclude: the here & now has quite a long breath. And that is nice.