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10/04/2019
Palonera
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Palonera
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38
no half cock
"Can I have that?" he asked, the man at my side.
"Can I have that when you're done testing?"
That sounded hopeful, that sounded like Habenwill - I had to ask to make sure I had understood him correctly.
"The man, who is rarely enthusiastic about the fragrances I test, which I wear, said "Ferragamo pour Homme", which he liked many years ago, followed sometime by "Tuscan Leather", "Fields of Rubus" - my memory doesn't give much more.
And now this.
"Kokorico," the rooster he wanted.
The.
of all people
But it's not that I don't understand him.
Not at all.
The scent with the silly name is beautiful.
Really nice.
Then, if you like fragrances of this kind.
"Kokorico" is a warm, soft, dark, velvety, yet thoroughly masculine fragrance that women can still wear without hesitation.
If she pays a little attention to the dose - less here is decidedly more.
I had to recognize this on the very first day, when the surge from the Apo dropper was too big.
Then it got loud, the cock, very loud - too much ambroxan, too much testosterone rose from the sunny September skin, clouded my senses and pressed a little bit hard on my stomach.
That was a lesson to me, the following days it went more cautiously to work.
Whatever the pyramid may tell us, it is not complete.
Ambroxan is being embezzled, I'm pretty sure, and probably laboratory oud too.
Otherwise I cannot explain the warm spice, the dark dense low, the tender scratching, the "Kokorico" on my woman's skin exudes after an almost two lashes long prelude of watery light green, latent fruit.
That can be fig leaf, no question, but also the leaf on almost every tree that bears fruit in the south as well as in the west.
It is so quickly gone, the freshness, that its function, its sense and purpose is not revealed - perhaps it is the young morning that breaks before the first cock's cry.
After this short hint of freshness, it becomes dark (again) - resins and consecrated smoke combine with pencil cedar and a fine sweet that seems to come from chocolaty rather than gothic patchouli.
I can't recognize cocoa as such, not the bitter-oily one that my nose knows.
But - I already wrote it - a lot of ambroxan, a lot of wood, a lot of oud.
A little sage, maybe.
Not any more.
And certainly not less.
"Kokorico" seems to me to be the forerunner of fragrances like Sentifiques "Testostérone", Diors "Sauvage" and all the powerhouses whose virility often overflows buses, trains, supermarkets.
Here, however, one has taken a back seat, does not yet follow the motto "a lot helps a lot", as long as the spray head is made with caution.
One drop from the Apo was enough to wrap me in a transparent aura, well perceptible even the next morning, but not slaying, not too dense.
And to awaken him, the have-will reflex in the man next door who is tall, dark, masculine.
And certainly not half a rooster.
"Can I have that when you're done testing?"
That sounded hopeful, that sounded like Habenwill - I had to ask to make sure I had understood him correctly.
"The man, who is rarely enthusiastic about the fragrances I test, which I wear, said "Ferragamo pour Homme", which he liked many years ago, followed sometime by "Tuscan Leather", "Fields of Rubus" - my memory doesn't give much more.
And now this.
"Kokorico," the rooster he wanted.
The.
of all people
But it's not that I don't understand him.
Not at all.
The scent with the silly name is beautiful.
Really nice.
Then, if you like fragrances of this kind.
"Kokorico" is a warm, soft, dark, velvety, yet thoroughly masculine fragrance that women can still wear without hesitation.
If she pays a little attention to the dose - less here is decidedly more.
I had to recognize this on the very first day, when the surge from the Apo dropper was too big.
Then it got loud, the cock, very loud - too much ambroxan, too much testosterone rose from the sunny September skin, clouded my senses and pressed a little bit hard on my stomach.
That was a lesson to me, the following days it went more cautiously to work.
Whatever the pyramid may tell us, it is not complete.
Ambroxan is being embezzled, I'm pretty sure, and probably laboratory oud too.
Otherwise I cannot explain the warm spice, the dark dense low, the tender scratching, the "Kokorico" on my woman's skin exudes after an almost two lashes long prelude of watery light green, latent fruit.
That can be fig leaf, no question, but also the leaf on almost every tree that bears fruit in the south as well as in the west.
It is so quickly gone, the freshness, that its function, its sense and purpose is not revealed - perhaps it is the young morning that breaks before the first cock's cry.
After this short hint of freshness, it becomes dark (again) - resins and consecrated smoke combine with pencil cedar and a fine sweet that seems to come from chocolaty rather than gothic patchouli.
I can't recognize cocoa as such, not the bitter-oily one that my nose knows.
But - I already wrote it - a lot of ambroxan, a lot of wood, a lot of oud.
A little sage, maybe.
Not any more.
And certainly not less.
"Kokorico" seems to me to be the forerunner of fragrances like Sentifiques "Testostérone", Diors "Sauvage" and all the powerhouses whose virility often overflows buses, trains, supermarkets.
Here, however, one has taken a back seat, does not yet follow the motto "a lot helps a lot", as long as the spray head is made with caution.
One drop from the Apo was enough to wrap me in a transparent aura, well perceptible even the next morning, but not slaying, not too dense.
And to awaken him, the have-will reflex in the man next door who is tall, dark, masculine.
And certainly not half a rooster.
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