Top Notes 
New Zealand flax
Heart Notes 
Manuka myrtle
Base Notes 
Lichen
Chizza
362 Reviews
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Chizza
Top Review
26
Delightfully Different Green
New Zealand: an exploration party of the Maori returned; just 30 minutes earlier, there had been great concern. Hadn't Kupe, according to their belief, defeated the sea monsters back then? But now, a voluminous bizarre… “Something” was drifting on the sea, and so brave men were sent to check it out. They brought back the supposed monster: leather jacket, somewhat pungent smell, a torn shirt over a medicine ball belly; on the tattoo adorning his left upper arm, not only was there beer in a babbling language but also I love Herne. They agreed, that was somehow a human, and something was off with him, because - fortunately, one of the Maori spoke German - besides “I am thirsty” and “where am I?”, he often asked: “Who am I?”. So they took him in, and the strange man became one of them. He already had many tattoos, but they were rather third-rate, either done in prison or with four per mille. Additionally, they found a bottle with fragrant water: Moko Maori. Perhaps this would help solve the mystery of the man.
The scent started off much like the man's mind; foggy. It was somehow ethereal, the sun rays waking the green, welcoming. The myrtle exuded its aromatic-floral scent, the dense grassland took the lead and dominated the fragrance. This blend of green-grassy and positively floral is what evokes such impressions. No idea how New Zealand flax might smell, but the fact is that it played a role in making clothing for the Maori.
“How is our man from Germany doing? Still suffering from memory loss?”
“Yes, but we tried beer to perk him up. Seems to be working. He kept shouting Huruhuru, and after the female caregivers left in a huff, we realized he meant that beer brand. Now he’s already on his third case and claims he was some kind of leather chief with a roaring beast. I suspect he means a motorcycle and was some sort of gang leader, just expressing himself very simply. Apparently, in Herne or whatever, they are rather linguistically limited.”
“Is this perfume good for him?”
“Well, I think he ended up here somehow because he really believes that his elementary school tattoos of stick figure women with beer in hand are similar to ours. The man seems like he’s from another time, like a Neanderthal. That fits with his cave painting tattoos. Herne is in Germany, and I believe they are behind on many things. That would explain a lot.”
I have consciously not perceived New Zealand's lacebark anywhere, but I am familiar with the Japanese one, and if I remember correctly, it smells intensely and slightly bitter green. So it fits well into the scene. Rich, not feather-light green, rather serious. Yet, no matter how much the notes may shift, the underlying mood remains the same. For me, it stays herb-fresh, green, and friendly.
“W….Woll….Wolle….Wolle, Wolle, Wollllllleeeee!”
The German jumped up, then fell directly down; it was too much Huruhuru beer.
“Ah, did he mean his name with Huruhuru?”
“…I don’t think so, but he remembers now. Good.”
“Where am I?”
“In New Zealand, you drifted on the water; what happened?”
“Little accident on my beer world tour, fell overboard, the deposit rolled into the water. Didn’t anyone miss me?”
“No.”
“Uwe, that drunkard, they haven’t even noticed that I’m gone. Of course, more beer for everyone. Just wait!”
Moko Maori is a very exciting, unconventional scent. There are many that dedicate themselves to specific vegetation, countries, etc. Not always implemented consistently. How consistently this is, I can only assess from a distance and rudimentarily. It strikes me as delightfully green, multifaceted, and never too light due to the myrtle, but always serious and never bitter green, as one often experiences with green scents. Moko Maori could therefore be worth considering.
The scent started off much like the man's mind; foggy. It was somehow ethereal, the sun rays waking the green, welcoming. The myrtle exuded its aromatic-floral scent, the dense grassland took the lead and dominated the fragrance. This blend of green-grassy and positively floral is what evokes such impressions. No idea how New Zealand flax might smell, but the fact is that it played a role in making clothing for the Maori.
“How is our man from Germany doing? Still suffering from memory loss?”
“Yes, but we tried beer to perk him up. Seems to be working. He kept shouting Huruhuru, and after the female caregivers left in a huff, we realized he meant that beer brand. Now he’s already on his third case and claims he was some kind of leather chief with a roaring beast. I suspect he means a motorcycle and was some sort of gang leader, just expressing himself very simply. Apparently, in Herne or whatever, they are rather linguistically limited.”
“Is this perfume good for him?”
“Well, I think he ended up here somehow because he really believes that his elementary school tattoos of stick figure women with beer in hand are similar to ours. The man seems like he’s from another time, like a Neanderthal. That fits with his cave painting tattoos. Herne is in Germany, and I believe they are behind on many things. That would explain a lot.”
I have consciously not perceived New Zealand's lacebark anywhere, but I am familiar with the Japanese one, and if I remember correctly, it smells intensely and slightly bitter green. So it fits well into the scene. Rich, not feather-light green, rather serious. Yet, no matter how much the notes may shift, the underlying mood remains the same. For me, it stays herb-fresh, green, and friendly.
“W….Woll….Wolle….Wolle, Wolle, Wollllllleeeee!”
The German jumped up, then fell directly down; it was too much Huruhuru beer.
“Ah, did he mean his name with Huruhuru?”
“…I don’t think so, but he remembers now. Good.”
“Where am I?”
“In New Zealand, you drifted on the water; what happened?”
“Little accident on my beer world tour, fell overboard, the deposit rolled into the water. Didn’t anyone miss me?”
“No.”
“Uwe, that drunkard, they haven’t even noticed that I’m gone. Of course, more beer for everyone. Just wait!”
Moko Maori is a very exciting, unconventional scent. There are many that dedicate themselves to specific vegetation, countries, etc. Not always implemented consistently. How consistently this is, I can only assess from a distance and rudimentarily. It strikes me as delightfully green, multifaceted, and never too light due to the myrtle, but always serious and never bitter green, as one often experiences with green scents. Moko Maori could therefore be worth considering.
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