Askew Humięcki & Graef 2008

I almost got kicked out.
Almost - and that on the evening of that memorable July 13, 2014, the evening that was to change the world forever.
At that point, the game hadn't even started, no player was on the field, no ball was rolling over the hallowed grass in Rio - I had only sprayed a little, wanting to telepathically-aromatherapeutically transport strength, greatness, calm composure, and inner strength to where they seemed useful to me.
Not only over there in Brazil, where that evening a weeks-long drama was to reach its climax - the man beside me was also fidgeting and nibbling, swaying unusually sanguinely between overflowing euphoria and disconcerting pessimism, as if it were also about glory and honor and a green-golden trophy for him.
I was sure that "Askew" would help - this herbaceous-strong-masculine scent with its deep emotionality, its tamed-bundled primal force would send exactly the right signals and steer the evening onto an orderly course.
I thought.
And five minutes later, I no longer understood the world: "What smells so overpowering here? Please tell me it's not you?!"
A disapproving look, wrinkled nose, ostentatious distancing.
Mumbled words, "Eighties" and "old gentlemen" - what was this person talking about?!
Surely not about me, surely not about "Askew"?

Not about "Askew," which opens so herbaceous, distinctive, and masculine on my skin and gives me the impression for a brief moment that I have smelled this scent many times before, very often.
Men's fragrances from the seventies, the eighties, even the nineties come to mind, those that left no doubt as to which gender they were created for.
But just a few seconds later, a distinct lemon breaks through the phalanx of bitter-herbaceous accords, pairing with a pot of peppermint tea and a few wisps of smoke from the recently extinguished wood fire in the background.
Green and herbaceous, powerful yet transparent, very close to nature and certainly masculine.
"Askew" remains in this stage for a long time before darker notes gently, cautiously emerge, spicier, woodier, more assertive, also sharper and more massive, physical and - yes: erotic.
"Testostérone!" - and indeed, the further "Askew" develops on my skin, the stronger my associations become with this predatory-dark-leathery Sentifique, which seems to divide opinions similarly to how "Askew" does.
After an hour and a half, all the fruity, harmless-herbaceous notes have faded, surrounding me with birch-tar darkness, dry wood, and salty spice.
A man, without a doubt.
A big, calm, powerful man, bundled and grounded, knowing, wanting, waiting.
A man with body, mind, and soul, with values and desires, who walks his path without hesitation, without doubt.
In the Highlands and in Rio, in the desert and in the Himalayas, at the negotiation table as well as on the football field.
And who wins in the end - because he simply can't help it.

Whoever wears "Askew" stands out - inevitably.
Whether positively or negatively is ultimately a question of dosage.
Before the finale, I sprayed three times - twice too much, as I know three testing days later.
"Askew" shows presence, surrounds its wearer like an aura, without flooding spaces, without pushing itself to the forefront - and yet heads turned, eyes followed me from men and women, a little irritated, a little fascinated.
And the beloved?
He stole "Askew" from me.

PS: Thank you with a kiss to Ergoproxy!