Woman Two Jil Sander 1983

You really have to ask yourself: “What happened there?” Did Mrs. Sander look away for a moment and someone poured something into the bottle? Fragrance dementia? A brief lapse? A touch of diva? I can neither explain how this scent appeared under the name Sander, nor how it could be placed in this rather inconspicuous, almost sporty, minimalist bottle.

When the sample reached me from the lovely Duftelinchen, I was inclined not to test it after I briefly sniffed the sprayer. Amber cheerfully waved at my nose, and I don't particularly appreciate ambered scents. But it had Jil Sander on it, so it couldn't be too bad, I thought to myself and boldly sprayed it on the back of my hand.

BOOM CHICA WAH WAH!!
This opening hits you right in the face. No warning. A knockout punch. If you don't get up by ten, you can't play anymore. Even Mugler could learn a thing or two from this, and he’s known for blowing that stupid grin off your face with the first spray. Totally paralyzed, I stand there and examine the tiny spot on my hand. You? You? You little bit of liquid causes this? Unbelievable.

After the aldehyde onslaught, which also carries something floral-spicy with it - probably some flowers, bushes, fruit trees, cars, houses, skyscrapers it has swept along - settles down, I am quite astonished. It shimmers and glimmers, oh look there and there and there too. A floral dance in bright, radiant opulence, lots of animals rustling through the grasses. I have the impression that the Jurassic Park gate has opened for me; there’s something happening everywhere. Amber and benzoin add to the fun, just enough to avoid it becoming too much like a puma cage, but also not drifting into excessive sweetness. This is truly a delightful phase. The animals are all in cuddle mode, the scent appears radiant, lovely, floral. During this time, it reminds me distinctly of Beloved Woman by Amouage. Only louder, more floral, and more animalistic. I can't identify the flowers individually; the scent embraces me like a vast, powdery flower field. The aura is a dream. Wherever there are many animals, it’s advisable not to bury your nose too deep in the skin. The sillage radiating from it is a thousand times more beautiful and worth enjoying from a distance.

Gradually, it becomes darker, mossier, woodier, less floral. The sweetness, the sunshine retreats further and further. The activity decreases. The little creatures bask in the moss and wait for the moment. Perhaps they are lying in wait, perhaps waiting for sleep, perhaps for a little tryst, perhaps for food. Everything is calm, the scent recedes, staying quite close to the skin and lingering for hours. Personally, I would have liked the middle part to last significantly longer, but the scent as a whole is really well balanced.

Well, Mrs. Sander, what can I say. A work of art. A fragrance that belongs in a proper bottle. This thing is really a mess with such an orchestra. Should I be concerned about why it’s called Woman Two? Is the mistress meant here? And is that why the plain glass box, due to the secrecy? Oh Mrs. Sander. I beg you, please remember the second woman in your next creations; it could do you good. A full aria would be better than always the little evaporation bites you keep putting out. I am deeply impressed. By this. Chapeau. Sincerely, Your Mrs. Lohse.