32
Top Review
Of Sea Urchins and Octopuses in Tuberose Attire
At first, I thought: Yuck, an Aquatic!
Actually, I hate aquatics. Anyone from a “Cool Water”-damaged generation like me will probably understand this. “Cool Water” is not a bad fragrance at all, quite the opposite! But the incredibly many clones that swarmed in the wake of the Davidoff scent, especially the overflow into the realm of functional perfumery, have triggered a sea breeze overkill for me. I can’t take it anymore: Mercy!!
Floor or window cleaners, laundry detergents or fabric softeners, shower gels or shampoos, deodorants or air fresheners - everywhere this sweetly synthetic sea breeze, this chemical trail mocking nature. I’m becoming increasingly aggressive.
And then there’s “Sogno Reale” - what a fragrance!
Sure, there are Miller Harris’ “Fleurs de Sel,” “Acqua di Sale” by Profumum, or “Sel Marin” by Heeley, and many others of this kind that strive for a different, more natural marine accord, one that smells of salt, iodine-rich air, spray-moistened rocks, seaweed, and algae - all more or less wonderful scents that certainly soothe me. But “Sogno Reale” does not belong in this category; it is different. Nor does it belong in the category of Cool Water adherents, although I would have almost placed it there right after the first spray.
Juicy citrus notes, an unmistakable and hefty dose of the aroma chemical ‘Calone’, combined with sweet-resinous amber notes - doesn’t that sound awful?
It is awful.
But wait! Where with other scents of this color the mass is already read, the thing with “Sogno Reale” is just getting started.
After a while, the deeper notes begin to gain volume, becoming broader, more complex, eventually enveloping the somewhat shrill, nose-hair-raising opening without completely covering it. A hint of this Cool Water familiarity remains even until the late fading of this fragrance, but already with the blooming of the heart notes, and even more so the base notes, it no longer bothers me at all, but suddenly seems completely fine to me.
It must be so!
I find the transition from the citrus-aquatic top notes to the warm, sensual, more delicate base particularly successful: the tuberose here mutates into the crucial link. Even a screamer of its kind, it stretches its tentacles of fragrance kaleidoscope in all directions like an octopus amidst the scent: into the upper, fresh-ozonic sphere, as well as into the darker, earthy depths, without belting out its well-known tuberose solo at the ramp. The accompanying patchouli plays a primarily connecting, amalgamating role just as subtly.
Thus, the loud, but somehow also whimsical citrus-marine accord (which, to make matters worse, has a faint chlorinated nuance that is strangely appealing!) gradually calms down with the help of the tuberose-patchouli duo and sinks into a beautiful base of resinous, subtly smoky, and leathery facets. A trace of Hyraceum adds just enough animalic quality that a quiet, unobtrusive erotic finesse resonates beneath it all, which is almost addictive.
Speaking of ‘quiet’ and ‘addictive’. Two terms that characterize “Sogno Reale” for me: although one might suspect otherwise, the fragrance is not loud overall, aside from the confident opening. No, it is rather reserved, but maintains a pleasant presence over a long period, which should not extend beyond an arm's length in terms of projection. This range is personally my favorite.
And regarding the term ‘addictive’: a rare phenomenon accompanies this fragrance for me. The abrupt snap-back of the head after the initial spray is always followed by a slow re-approach, a cautious approach to the scented spot, until I finally can’t pull my nose away from it.
Yes, “Sogno Reale” is indeed addictive!
That some recognize the smell of sea urchins here, especially in the opening, I’ll leave as is - since I was rather socialized by the scent world of the Alps, I can’t really judge that. I have no idea what sea urchins smell like. It’s quite possible that the combination of iodine-rich seawater accord, underpinned by a bit of Hyraceum, favors this association.
Amelie Bourgeois has created a dreamy fragrance with “Sogno Reale,” ‘dreamy’ in both senses: on the one hand, it behaves just like dreams sometimes do - characterized by wild, seemingly chaotic scene changes, emotionally charged and contradictory. On the other hand, “Sogno Reale” is simply a dreamily beautiful fragrance, contrasting and exciting - but never tense! Because that’s what Amelie Bourgeois and her ‘Flair’ partner Anne-Sophie Behaghel stand for: for demanding yet wearable fragrance art in the best, typically French sublimated craftsmanship.
Sure, not all of their fragrances are masterpieces, but if anyone consistently delivers them, it’s these two exceptional artists. Especially when they are allowed to, and given the famous Carte blanche.
Stefania Squeglia, the owner of Mendittorosa, has apparently done just that. Her trust in the ‘Flair’ founders seems so great that she even allowed a young university graduate, whom Bourgeois and Behaghel took under their wings, to debut with a fragrance in her house: Camille Chemardin with “Ithaka.”
That this trust is repeatedly rewarded was last demonstrated by the fantastically successful “Orlo.”
But it’s not just the - mostly - compelling compositions that convince here - you can almost smell the good ingredients! When both come together, the best ingredients and skill, interestingly and stylishly staged, one can confidently speak of the ideal case.
That the design of Mendittorosa is somewhat quirky is a given. However, I find this playful quirkiness charming. Even if it’s not my style, I like it. It certainly shows care, genuine appreciation, and yes, also passion.
“Sogno Reale,” this ‘real dream’ that Stefania Squeglia told the ‘Flair’ ladies about, so that they distilled a fragrance from it, is indeed crowned by a kind of sea urchin, albeit one made of painted plaster and not a real one, which has already raised concerns among animal rights activists.
So there might be something to the sea urchin association.
Should a sea urchin ever come under my nose in my life, I will consciously smell it.
I’m curious!
A small addendum: After wearing the fragrance a few times now, I almost look forward to this rich citrus-marine opening! Fortunately, Amelie Bourgeois has apparently avoided the stereotypical, masculine fresh fougères characterized by the combination of Calone (which IFF sensibly markets under the name ‘Aquamor’) and Dihydromyrcenal (THE molecule for pore-deep citrus-sweet, slightly metallic purity!) and instead created the accord with somewhat natural citrus oils.
It smells so much better than “Cool Water” & Co.!
Addendum, 22.05.21: Since “Sogno Reale” does not have a melon note (Calone), Bourgeois might have used 'Maritima', 'Oceanol', or a similar fragrance molecule...
Actually, I hate aquatics. Anyone from a “Cool Water”-damaged generation like me will probably understand this. “Cool Water” is not a bad fragrance at all, quite the opposite! But the incredibly many clones that swarmed in the wake of the Davidoff scent, especially the overflow into the realm of functional perfumery, have triggered a sea breeze overkill for me. I can’t take it anymore: Mercy!!
Floor or window cleaners, laundry detergents or fabric softeners, shower gels or shampoos, deodorants or air fresheners - everywhere this sweetly synthetic sea breeze, this chemical trail mocking nature. I’m becoming increasingly aggressive.
And then there’s “Sogno Reale” - what a fragrance!
Sure, there are Miller Harris’ “Fleurs de Sel,” “Acqua di Sale” by Profumum, or “Sel Marin” by Heeley, and many others of this kind that strive for a different, more natural marine accord, one that smells of salt, iodine-rich air, spray-moistened rocks, seaweed, and algae - all more or less wonderful scents that certainly soothe me. But “Sogno Reale” does not belong in this category; it is different. Nor does it belong in the category of Cool Water adherents, although I would have almost placed it there right after the first spray.
Juicy citrus notes, an unmistakable and hefty dose of the aroma chemical ‘Calone’, combined with sweet-resinous amber notes - doesn’t that sound awful?
It is awful.
But wait! Where with other scents of this color the mass is already read, the thing with “Sogno Reale” is just getting started.
After a while, the deeper notes begin to gain volume, becoming broader, more complex, eventually enveloping the somewhat shrill, nose-hair-raising opening without completely covering it. A hint of this Cool Water familiarity remains even until the late fading of this fragrance, but already with the blooming of the heart notes, and even more so the base notes, it no longer bothers me at all, but suddenly seems completely fine to me.
It must be so!
I find the transition from the citrus-aquatic top notes to the warm, sensual, more delicate base particularly successful: the tuberose here mutates into the crucial link. Even a screamer of its kind, it stretches its tentacles of fragrance kaleidoscope in all directions like an octopus amidst the scent: into the upper, fresh-ozonic sphere, as well as into the darker, earthy depths, without belting out its well-known tuberose solo at the ramp. The accompanying patchouli plays a primarily connecting, amalgamating role just as subtly.
Thus, the loud, but somehow also whimsical citrus-marine accord (which, to make matters worse, has a faint chlorinated nuance that is strangely appealing!) gradually calms down with the help of the tuberose-patchouli duo and sinks into a beautiful base of resinous, subtly smoky, and leathery facets. A trace of Hyraceum adds just enough animalic quality that a quiet, unobtrusive erotic finesse resonates beneath it all, which is almost addictive.
Speaking of ‘quiet’ and ‘addictive’. Two terms that characterize “Sogno Reale” for me: although one might suspect otherwise, the fragrance is not loud overall, aside from the confident opening. No, it is rather reserved, but maintains a pleasant presence over a long period, which should not extend beyond an arm's length in terms of projection. This range is personally my favorite.
And regarding the term ‘addictive’: a rare phenomenon accompanies this fragrance for me. The abrupt snap-back of the head after the initial spray is always followed by a slow re-approach, a cautious approach to the scented spot, until I finally can’t pull my nose away from it.
Yes, “Sogno Reale” is indeed addictive!
That some recognize the smell of sea urchins here, especially in the opening, I’ll leave as is - since I was rather socialized by the scent world of the Alps, I can’t really judge that. I have no idea what sea urchins smell like. It’s quite possible that the combination of iodine-rich seawater accord, underpinned by a bit of Hyraceum, favors this association.
Amelie Bourgeois has created a dreamy fragrance with “Sogno Reale,” ‘dreamy’ in both senses: on the one hand, it behaves just like dreams sometimes do - characterized by wild, seemingly chaotic scene changes, emotionally charged and contradictory. On the other hand, “Sogno Reale” is simply a dreamily beautiful fragrance, contrasting and exciting - but never tense! Because that’s what Amelie Bourgeois and her ‘Flair’ partner Anne-Sophie Behaghel stand for: for demanding yet wearable fragrance art in the best, typically French sublimated craftsmanship.
Sure, not all of their fragrances are masterpieces, but if anyone consistently delivers them, it’s these two exceptional artists. Especially when they are allowed to, and given the famous Carte blanche.
Stefania Squeglia, the owner of Mendittorosa, has apparently done just that. Her trust in the ‘Flair’ founders seems so great that she even allowed a young university graduate, whom Bourgeois and Behaghel took under their wings, to debut with a fragrance in her house: Camille Chemardin with “Ithaka.”
That this trust is repeatedly rewarded was last demonstrated by the fantastically successful “Orlo.”
But it’s not just the - mostly - compelling compositions that convince here - you can almost smell the good ingredients! When both come together, the best ingredients and skill, interestingly and stylishly staged, one can confidently speak of the ideal case.
That the design of Mendittorosa is somewhat quirky is a given. However, I find this playful quirkiness charming. Even if it’s not my style, I like it. It certainly shows care, genuine appreciation, and yes, also passion.
“Sogno Reale,” this ‘real dream’ that Stefania Squeglia told the ‘Flair’ ladies about, so that they distilled a fragrance from it, is indeed crowned by a kind of sea urchin, albeit one made of painted plaster and not a real one, which has already raised concerns among animal rights activists.
So there might be something to the sea urchin association.
Should a sea urchin ever come under my nose in my life, I will consciously smell it.
I’m curious!
A small addendum: After wearing the fragrance a few times now, I almost look forward to this rich citrus-marine opening! Fortunately, Amelie Bourgeois has apparently avoided the stereotypical, masculine fresh fougères characterized by the combination of Calone (which IFF sensibly markets under the name ‘Aquamor’) and Dihydromyrcenal (THE molecule for pore-deep citrus-sweet, slightly metallic purity!) and instead created the accord with somewhat natural citrus oils.
It smells so much better than “Cool Water” & Co.!
Addendum, 22.05.21: Since “Sogno Reale” does not have a melon note (Calone), Bourgeois might have used 'Maritima', 'Oceanol', or a similar fragrance molecule...
Translated · Show original
14 Comments
Finding and making chlorine "distinct" appealing to the interested reader is truly not something everyone can do ;-) I will gladly test the scent as well (or especially) as a sea urchin expert.
'Contrasting and exciting - never tense in its commentary! For discerning yet readable fragrance commentary art in the best, typically **profumo-esque**, sublimated craftsmanship.'
Paraphrased but true!