Sometimes, very rarely, but sometimes everything just fits.
In a world where the loudest voice prevails, where everything feels bright, shrill, and excessively overdone, I sit and enjoy the quiet moments. They have become rare, but they still exist. The regular use of fragrances is part of this for me. As a conclusion to my cleansing ritual and as a completion of my wardrobe. It brings me great joy to wander among the bottles with my eye and index finger until I find the specimen that matches the weather, mood, and outfit. An even greater joy is when the mere sight of the bottle, the feel of the heavy glass, and the removal of the ideally valuable and neatly fitting cap accompany the ritual.
With Cologne Nocturne from the house of Le Galion, I have found such a comprehensive care package. The heavy bottle with its vertical, concave grooves, the magnetic, simply black metal cap, and the strongly reduced label already hint that you are dealing with a noble and calm representative of its kind (the current photo in the database is unfortunately outdated; the one for "Essence Noble (2023) / Eau Noble (2014) | Le Galion," for example, fits). It does not want to scream, it does not fight with elbows for a place in the front row. When you hold it in your hand, it politely and elegantly congratulates you on your excellent taste. Like a good tailor, it embraces you as a service provider, but it also knows exactly what it can do and why you are standing on its dressing podium to have your measurements taken.
If this description applies to all bottles in the current collection of Le Galion, the paths now diverge depending on the choice of fragrance, and here we should finally talk about Cologne Nocturne: The name is wonderfully chosen and could hardly better summarize the overall impression that the fragrance leaves. It starts with unsweetened citrus and a well-perceptible, strong lavender note that instantly envelops you in a fragrant protective shield, from which noise and stress effortlessly bounce off. It fulfills this task with much elegance and without shouting. The lavender accompanies you throughout the entire fragrance pyramid, sometimes more, sometimes a bit less, but always with two fingers on the inner wrist to ensure that the pulse never rises above 80. Soon, finely tuned green spices and soft woody notes join in, although I cannot distinctly identify any of these protagonists separately. With the fragrance notes in mind, my brain wants to recognize patchouli and also the distinctly characteristic sage, but without this crutch, I dare to doubt that I would have dissected these notes. Fresh, woody, spicy would probably be the essence of the fragrance description. What all the orchestrators of this piece have in common in the sum of their interplay is the naturalness that this fragrance radiates. The transcendent impression of original perfumery art from long ago almost inevitably spreads. Thus, the Cologne of the night gently brings you down. It takes you protectively in its arms and allows you to forget the madness of this world for the moment of inhalation. I do not know what the term haute parfumerie ultimately stands for, but for my part, I would classify this fragrance in its entirety as part of that haute parfumerie.
And you don't smell them on every corner.