Sound of a Ricochet Floraïku 2017

I must be honest, Floraïku perfume descriptions sound all over the place for me. And this is why I wasn't sure about trying their scents. The whole idea of the brand is the opposite of my preferences: vague meaningless names, uncoherent descriptions that relay no useful information, notes that seem to be at odds with what reviews describe the scent like. Add an obnoxious price to that and I'm so not interested... But somehow a few scents caught my attention, especially Sound of the Ricochet being a gourmand vanilla fragrance.

As it is with such brands, the name has nothing to do with the scent. Just attach an edgy MySpace status to whatever fragrance, people will buy regardless. The notes are pretty close to what you get though, albeit not entirely. And what you get is a quite boring spicy vanilla opening, overdone and not exactly great. But the drydown brings a beautiful incensey sort of deepness to sweet tonka-vanilla combination, which is what won me over. This part is actually interesting and novel, and I'm a total sucker for incense-heavy perfumes. Add a decent longevity to that and I'm almost sold. Almost.

This is an unusual and very pleasant fragrance, but sadly I don't think I'll bother to go for a full bottle. It's great, and maybe if I find a jackpot lottery ticket on the street I may splurge... But at the moment it doesn't seem to be worth it. I'll definitely recommend to try it and form your own opinion though.

One of the few fragrances that makes it difficult for me to write a concrete review is Sound of a Ricochet. For me, it is so much, and yet only one thing.
The initial spray begins with a generous amount of patchouli: dark, sensual, and mysterious. The warmth of the patchouli is accompanied by vanilla and tonka bean. They provide a small glimmer of light in the dark, like the candles that gently flicker on my coffee table from autumn onwards.
A slight sweetness emerges, which is by no means sugary. Rather, it resembles a beautiful bittersweet chocolate bar that slowly melts on the tongue. The sandalwood gently integrates into the composition while anise gives me the final kick. Like a little tickle in the stomach. Anise makes the difference for me.

I like the way the fragrance radiates. It is present, and it is noticed. But it doesn't overwhelm. It doesn't enter the room before you do. When it becomes skin-close at the end of the day, the vanilla with patchouli in the mix gently rounds the corner once again.
Anyone looking for a patchouli scent with even more punch should check out Patchouly, which for me is the stronger option.

An absolute plus for me is the bottle. Floraiku provides a 10ml travel spray with every 50ml bottle. The large decorative "cap" can then be transformed into a case for just that. And it really feels great in the hand.

For me, a successful all-rounder fragrance that can be worn by any gender. In summer, it works especially well in the evening, but I am now looking forward to the cold days with it.

Actually, a witty comment about "Sound of a Ricochet" as a newspaper report on a shooting in a pastry shop had been planned for days at this point. Maybe something a bit like John Wick, just of course without any bloodshed. The only victims should have been bags filled with vanilla and tonka beans, stored in the pastry shop, bursting from stray bullets and olfactorily reflecting the very scent of "Sound of a Ricochet" that eyewitnesses would report. This is how this Eau de Parfum smells - like an oversized package of baking powder with vanillin, just in a good way. In the background, sandalwood smokes. Beautifully balsamic, powdery, sweet, soft with a slight kick of something strong and absolutely pleasant.

Given the current situation, where there has once again been a real shooting with actual victims (and such a thing has certainly happened not only in the so-called land of unlimited possibilities), I would put this comment back in the poison cabinet and only publish the fragment of a draft. The name of the perfume lent itself to playing with the theme, but unfortunately, reality has caught up with me again.

However, that shouldn't stop me from saying that "Sound of a Ricochet" is a fantastic vanilla-tonka bean scent that deserves more attention.

After spraying, a few seconds of silence. A breath before it begins: sugary tipsy, thickened-serious-caramel, soon also waxy amber. The waxy note will later become so dry and pale that it almost has a mushroom-like quality - like fresh mushrooms. But we are not there yet. Initially, a sting appears like liquid honey, which is additionally bent towards cough syrup/sore throat medicine. Along with it, a hint of baked aroma-stinging heliotrope-vanilla. And last but not least, dusty-earthy patchouli clears its throat.

The animalistic aspect, after about half an hour has passed, is more than just brushed upon. Fur-muff? No, not really. It takes some consideration before I realize that a gently leathery-rotten nuance reminds me from afar of Mazzolari's ‘Lui’ and Neil Morris' ‘Fetish’. It probably comes from the patchouli. Quiet and subterranean, but strikingly pronounced and certainly surprising considering the expectations.

This fellow secretly has a lot going on. An amber-patchouli scent that intensely explores the individuality of both components, of course without any loud bluster. The result is still quite cumbersome, and this is certainly not a gourmand. In particular, I smell (for now…) practically no sweetness, especially not foreground-creamy. Just oily-biting vanilla in the background.

As around noon a sour-earthy note emerges more strongly, showing a skeletal variety of aromas, while our vanilla-wax-amber presents itself increasingly stingy and over-the-top, it seems to me that the whole thing has gone overboard. And as if the fragrance has noticed this itself, it somewhat loses its own courage, and the "wild youth" is irrevocably ended.

From then on, there is a less attractive mixture of plastic-wax-amber and vanilla. In the diffuse creaminess, a trace of sweetened H-cream and sour milk can be sensed as evening approaches.

Conclusion: ‘Sound of a Ricochet’ opened as a counter-proposal to ‘One Umbrella for Two’. The umbrella had conjured a great gourmand from seemingly innocuous ingredients. Here, however, there was unexpectedly little edible scent from the overly gourmand paper form.

It's a pity that the boldest representative from the entire Floraïku line loses its refined courage so early and joins the common base note drivel of its siblings.

I thank Verbena for the sample.