Geste Humięcki & Graef 2008

Why does this fragrance remind me of my wife? On the surface, it could be due to the older woman/younger man dynamic that the marketing refers to. After all, my wife is a whole month older than I am. But that's not it; rather, Geste, with its strict yet airy, subtly floral-tinged resin, reminds me characteristically of the black currant fig called Pierre de Lune, one of her favorite scents. Do I perhaps have the chance to introduce her to a resinous fragrance with Geste in a camouflage-like manner? That would be an infinitely valuable step towards incense acceptance.

Unfortunately, that didn't work. She somehow caught the resin scent and also claims that I already showcased Geste to her in Lubner's cozy little shop. I know that's not true, but - as all (married) men will surely confirm - it doesn't help to know that. Well, that won't work.

When it comes to describing this unwieldy resin, the only thing that comes to mind is mastic, my only disliked resin variant. It doesn't quite fit either; Geste is not greenish-bitter but rather white-strict. It requires some distance from the skin at the beginning to soften the strictness; moreover, in the projection, a hint of a bright, synthetic-woody note forms. As if the fragrance were saying, "Don't come too close!" Cautious dosing is highly recommended anyway.

And with the required distance, the fragrance surrounds the wearer (I see it more fitting for women according to the manufacturer) with a kind of veil or mist, an invisible barrier. Throughout the morning, this softens a bit in such a way that the term amber is justified. However, this amber - in line with the descriptions - stands completely apart from the other resin note and does not develop from it. Additionally, it hardly manages to bring any notable softness or even sweetness to the fragrance.

In fact, a quiet, secret, yet relentless battle of two resin-oriented fragrance directions begins, lasting until noon. Even then, the battle is by no means decided or resolved. Instead, a kind of completely un-earthy patchouli dustiness now stamps the fragrance, irresistibly pushing the other notes aside, allowing the strictness to recede and replacing it with distance.

In the afternoon (after about eight hours), this dustiness seems completely dominant, only in the projection does it evoke a resinous-woody impression reminiscent of the first half of the fragrance's development. Only in the final phase, after about ten hours, does it become comparatively amber-like and in its initial stages, musky-soft. After a full twelve hours, a sweet amber scent finally emerges. In the end, love apparently always wins.

Conclusion: Phew. Difficult. Geste feels more like an experimental fragrance to me than something I would want to wear myself. As fascinating and undoubtedly special as it is, as bold as I find it, and as excited as I am that such things are being designed, it remains distant and foreign to me personally, and I cannot understand how it could inspire such touching comments. Thus, Geste remains, in both senses, a fragrance of distance for me. That's a shame, but it can't be changed. I'm not overly saddened by it, as I undoubtedly have much more to discover at Humiecki & Graef.

I thank Dobbs for the sample.