Even if it seems to me that the auditorium has emptied itself a little, with the consistency of the proverbial Swiss movement, there is another commentary from the Corona series today, the penultimate one! I already know which fragrance I'll be discussing at the conclusion tomorrow, but of course I won't tell you yet. Today, I'll start with the decomposition of the name "Rahele", which is a bit more complex than usual this time. Then it goes on to the actual scent evaluation, and at the end, for those who miss it, if it's missing, there's also another plague meditation. The full program!
"Rachel" first brings to mind the beautiful Rachel (Rachel), the daughter of Laban, wife of Jacob and mother of Benjamin and Joseph from the Old Testament. But since this collection is an Indian, and not a Jewish matter, I did further research. On the page of "Neela Vermeire Creations", without further explanation, it is stated that "Rahele" means "traveller" and the fragrance is (for whatever reason, the context is not explained) dedicated to three French explorers and explorers who travelled to ancient India in the 17th century. I therefore researched on various internet sites, including those of the type: "Recommendations for Muslim parents on naming their children" and came to the following, albeit unsecured, result, which I cannot verify in detail: It seems that the word "Rahele" is (resp. actually the consonant sequence RHL) in the Semitic languages, both in Hebrew and in Quranic Arabic, and from there probably borrowed also in the actually Indo-European Urdu, which is spoken in the predominantly Muslim parts of India, means, apart from "ewe", also "traveller", "he who sets out" etc. (Also) with the last meaning "Rahele" is also supposed to be common as a first name, whereas according to some sources the maiden name is probably rather "Raheela", the youth name rather "Rahele". Whatever the case may be. I think the name sounds nice and a bit mysterious, but because of the unresolved confusion, I don't give more than 7 points for it.
The fragrance is the third Neela Vermeire I've tested and the third one to get 7.5 points. At first I thought of a little less, but actually I like it even a little better than the last Pichola I tested, so as a compromise I get 7.5 points here too. My first impression of this fragrance is that it is very balanced between three poles, citric, floral and green. I like that at first. The fragrance seems to me to be rather (but by no means compellingly) feminine and quite light and bright, yet densely woven and clear.
Only after some time (a bit crosswise to the scent pyramid, which already locates cardamom and cinnamon in the top note) do I notice more notes that could be addressed as spicy, but where I neither hear the typical cardamom smell nor a cinnamon star bliss, but rather a somewhat bulky, almost scratchy and stinky imbalance; perhaps it arises from the interaction of the spices with the rose, with which I often (as with vetiver) do not get along so well. After about two hours, the citric and green notes have completely disappeared from the opening triad and a certain creaky woodiness with a still flowery touch prevails. But when I thought I had arrived at the base, I was wrong, because it went down one floor further, to a creamy, almost gourmand shimmering (noisette and almond) basement (maybe for parking).
It's certainly an interesting and in parts very beautiful scent, but for me personally it's all a bit too little classic, too nervously modern, too much, too much travel, too little destination. That's why I'm still waiting for Vermeire to flash me.
The name of the fragrance, which at least has a biblical connotation, and the approaching Easter may legitimize that today's Corona observations concern a religious topic, namely the cancellation of church services. There would certainly be many things to observe and consider about other religions, too, but I will limit myself to the Christian and here primarily to the Catholic Church. I personally was rather surprised that the total ban on worship services for reasons of protection against infection (which is certainly very well justifiable and which I do not oppose in principle) was so very largely well received and not even a tiny little revolt by the clergy or the faithful has broken out. After all, one could have said yes: Man does not live on bread alone, so if the supermarket is open, why not also (with, for my sake, a 5-meter seat distance, protective masks in front of the face and disinfectants) the church services? The fact that - as far as I know - almost no one rebelled there could also be seen as a sign - which is perhaps very worrying for Christians - that the inner fire of saying or attending mass is perhaps too great and that one is perhaps not so sad to be able to take a break from all that nonsense. I also think I remember from old plague reports that in the Middle Ages, when the public masses were cancelled because of the plague, the priests at least handed out the consecrated hosts one by one somewhere or laid them out for individual collection, so that the faithful who hungered after them would not have to remain without this physical presence of the Redeemer. I have never heard anything about this either these days. And this too has surprised me somewhat. Even if the administration of the sacrament at a "counter" might seem a bit strange and might alarmingly remind one of a "Döner-To-Go-Ausgabe": I would actually have thought that for a small, but nevertheless visible very pious part of the population this would be a need. But even from Italy or Spain I haven't heard of it; but of course I don't have so many sources from these countries either.
And so curtain for today, and goodbye tomorrow for the last part!
Top Notes 
Heart Notes 
Base Notes 
Holscentbar
Lioncourt
