Treffpunkt 8 Uhr J.F. Schwarzlose Berlin 2012

Somehow, hype and I just don't get along.
Whenever such a delicate little plant emerges, from the seed the germ, the first green, finally the magnificent blossom, and from it the tasty fruit, I stand by in awe and hesitation, participating but not partaking, observing the growth and becoming from a safe distance.
And then, one day, when courage has nudged me and curiosity has taken hold, when I want to join in on the hype that seems to have captivated everything and everyone - then the hype has passed, has said "Goodbye!" and packed its bags, has taken the train that has now left, still visible in the distance from the now empty platform.
And so it goes for me this time with "Treffpunkt 8 Uhr" and its creator Schwarzlose Berlin.

Had I not known better, I wouldn't have believed it.
Not with "Treffpunkt 8 Uhr".
Not that this is a scent that had its first appearance at the turn of the last century.
In somewhat different garb, certainly, but surely not entirely different.
"Treffpunkt 8 Uhr" seems so young to me, so fresh and contemporary, that conception and birth in 2012 appear much more likely than once during the time of Kaiser Wilhelm.
And that is a phenomenon, because usually it happens the other way around: A young scent comes along in classic attire, reminding me of fragrance jewels from Guerlain, Dior, Balmain from a time long before I was born.
But that a scent has been so far ahead of its time as "Treffpunkt 8 Uhr" seems to be, whether newly interpreted or not, that has not happened before, not for my nose and for me.

"Treffpunkt 8 Uhr" opens on my skin with an almost cologne-like bright freshness, very gentle though and not at all sharp or prickly - I wouldn't deny mango, but much more likely I think of lime or pink grapefruit alongside ginger, in any case, unsour citrus fruit.
Light and airy, it is like an early summer morning deep in the south, not sour and not sweet - and not the least bit trivial, because already here, dark gray smoke weaves in delicate wisps into the fruit, transparent, a little bitter, without being harsh and dreary.
Gently, almost tenderly, the smoke embraces the bright fruit, connects with it and releases it again, faceted and fascinated with playful lightness, far removed from any heaviness, as I have encountered in Lengling's "Sekushi" or smoky-leathery relatives like "Tuscan Leather".
At no time is "Treffpunkt 8 Uhr" dense and sweet and heavy, never is it aggressive, never opulent - sage and the flowers hide from me, but that is not a problem at all, it doesn't have to be any different.
In its reduction, "Treffpunkt 8 Uhr" is fine, very fine on my skin - and becomes even finer over time, as the smoke slowly dissolves and only forms the base for the bright white-green that remains.
And remains.
And remains.
Far beyond any hype.