10/06/2019
Meggi
212 Reviews
Translated
Show original
Meggi
Top Review
31
Fog candle or: Pea à la Duromgo
The head behind the Nebbia trilogy is Filippo Sorcinelli, who is also responsible for the Unum fragrances. And just as mystically entangled as Unum's once was, the website including the new series comes along.
In the exquisite Bloom-Perfumery in London, located just a few steps away from Covent Garden, the friendly young salesman took it easy. There are three types of fog: in the city, in the forest, by the sea. I see. Hm, I was actually of the opinion that I had chosen the "city" as rehearsal (freshly tapped per piece always 2 pounds - great!). Why am I insecure? See below.
Sweetened, otherwise earthy-rough, in the prelude by the alcohol almost liqueury patchouli, close to biting adhesive sweetness. Next to it there is a profoundly heirloom note, which seems familiar to me, but about which I am not yet clear. The potentially scratchy Patchouli is, as it were, given a soothing veil. If this is allegorically meant (because of fog curtains and such), it would have been possible. Soon I think of damp, old branches that fell some time ago on a wet and cold November day. Hmm. *pröbchenrauskram-beschriftungles* clearly says "Fitta" on it and that should stand for the city. Yes, the individual pictures...
Within an hour the scent gets warm, dry wood penetrates, it touches the threshold to artificial wood. Deep dark, earthy-sour patchouli rumbles in the underground, best felt directly on the skin. There the fragrance is also amazingly close in style to Duro, so it also shows plenty of wood.
The laboratory impression becomes stronger and stronger in the course of time. Suddenly I think of hereditary artificial wood notes that I know best from the MGO fragrances, which in turn have nothing to do with "noble woods". Today, fortunately, this wood is properly bound. Patchouli from below, so to speak, and a trace of sweetness as a delicate casting above keep things in perspective.
For the time being. Because by noon it's over. I smell predominantly synthetic wood, including the thickened Duro sweetness, against which a badly weakened patchouli can only make room again hours later. And since, as you know, only the toughest get through, the Duro Group seems to me to be the most stable in the final phase, which lasts into the evening. Not in the twin sense, 'Nebbia Fitta' is cooler and brighter overall, here the slightly different wood mixture should have an effect.
I boldly claim that the "noble woods" as well as, if I consider it correctly, the "damp earth" (whereever the perfume information comes from) are completely due to the outlined synthetics; a fog candle. As a layman, I'm always undecided whether I'm dealing with art or whether I'm supposed to be kidded. The tangled up Unum marketing gibberish (for example on 'Symphonie-Passion'; cf. Kommi, if applicable) makes me rather suspicious. But maybe I am fundamentally wrong and have to deal with brilliant avant-gardists. A profane business economist sometimes has to live with such uncertainty.
I may also be wrong about the fragrance in my emphasis. Light artificial wood has long since become one of my particularly unloved notes and I tend to perceive his respective appearance clearly and preferably ungraciously... well, "beating up" doesn't fit now... let's say: to slip away.
Contradiction to the point of better-than-usual instruction is therefore welcome (as usual).
In the exquisite Bloom-Perfumery in London, located just a few steps away from Covent Garden, the friendly young salesman took it easy. There are three types of fog: in the city, in the forest, by the sea. I see. Hm, I was actually of the opinion that I had chosen the "city" as rehearsal (freshly tapped per piece always 2 pounds - great!). Why am I insecure? See below.
Sweetened, otherwise earthy-rough, in the prelude by the alcohol almost liqueury patchouli, close to biting adhesive sweetness. Next to it there is a profoundly heirloom note, which seems familiar to me, but about which I am not yet clear. The potentially scratchy Patchouli is, as it were, given a soothing veil. If this is allegorically meant (because of fog curtains and such), it would have been possible. Soon I think of damp, old branches that fell some time ago on a wet and cold November day. Hmm. *pröbchenrauskram-beschriftungles* clearly says "Fitta" on it and that should stand for the city. Yes, the individual pictures...
Within an hour the scent gets warm, dry wood penetrates, it touches the threshold to artificial wood. Deep dark, earthy-sour patchouli rumbles in the underground, best felt directly on the skin. There the fragrance is also amazingly close in style to Duro, so it also shows plenty of wood.
The laboratory impression becomes stronger and stronger in the course of time. Suddenly I think of hereditary artificial wood notes that I know best from the MGO fragrances, which in turn have nothing to do with "noble woods". Today, fortunately, this wood is properly bound. Patchouli from below, so to speak, and a trace of sweetness as a delicate casting above keep things in perspective.
For the time being. Because by noon it's over. I smell predominantly synthetic wood, including the thickened Duro sweetness, against which a badly weakened patchouli can only make room again hours later. And since, as you know, only the toughest get through, the Duro Group seems to me to be the most stable in the final phase, which lasts into the evening. Not in the twin sense, 'Nebbia Fitta' is cooler and brighter overall, here the slightly different wood mixture should have an effect.
I boldly claim that the "noble woods" as well as, if I consider it correctly, the "damp earth" (whereever the perfume information comes from) are completely due to the outlined synthetics; a fog candle. As a layman, I'm always undecided whether I'm dealing with art or whether I'm supposed to be kidded. The tangled up Unum marketing gibberish (for example on 'Symphonie-Passion'; cf. Kommi, if applicable) makes me rather suspicious. But maybe I am fundamentally wrong and have to deal with brilliant avant-gardists. A profane business economist sometimes has to live with such uncertainty.
I may also be wrong about the fragrance in my emphasis. Light artificial wood has long since become one of my particularly unloved notes and I tend to perceive his respective appearance clearly and preferably ungraciously... well, "beating up" doesn't fit now... let's say: to slip away.
Contradiction to the point of better-than-usual instruction is therefore welcome (as usual).
26 Comments
KingPin
