Top Notes 
Bergamot
Citrus notes
Orange
Judicial Sandpaper
Heart Notes 
Floral notes
Petitgrain
Violet leaf
Base Notes 
Civet
Maté
Musk
Sandalwood
Cravache
64 Reviews
Translated · Show original
Cravache
Top Review
Adventure, Freedom, Bomber Pilots, and Eau Sauvage
Badertscher Jürg (in Switzerland, the surname is placed first - Klaus Kinski is referred to as Kinski Klaus) stands by the window. He is satisfied with himself. CFO of a medium-sized company, the numbers are good. From his spacious office (top floor, with art prints of paintings by Miró Joan and a picture of Tell Wilhelm on the walls), Badertscher Jürg can overlook the runways and hangars of the nearby airport. And in the tinted glass, he can see his reflection. White shirt by Dior Christian, dark blue slim-fit suit by Ford Tom. Badertscher Jürg is also satisfied with this. Even if the suit doesn’t fit as snugly as Kern Christian’s. But he is not doughy like Trump Donald, that is not Badertscher Jürg.
As Badertscher Jürg walks through the lonely hallway of the top floor (those in lower floors are not allowed access to the top floor), he leaves a fine scent trail. Eau Sauvage by Dior Christian, which his wife, Badertscher-Kummer Vreni, places next to his white shirt every morning. Badertscher Jürg is satisfied. With his numbers, with his suit in the reflection, with Badertscher-Kummer Vreni. And of course, also with his scent from Dior Christian. But on this brilliantly beautiful Friday in November, Badertscher Jürg lingers a little longer at the window. His gaze does not wander over the snow-capped peaks of the pre-Alps; he looks at the nearby airfield.
Even though Badertscher Jürg hasn’t spoken to anyone who doesn’t hold a management position in a long time, he feels like a friend of the blue-collar worker - at least if he knew any. Sometimes he regrets not encountering them at his golf club by Lake Zurich or during his ski vacation in St. Moritz. The chypre aura of his scent from Dior Christian makes Badertscher Jürg feel melancholic today. To the surprise of his assistant Kneubühler Livia, Badertscher Jürg shortly thereafter leaves his office without a word (even the daily glance at his assistant’s behind is absent today, much to her irritation) and gets into his limousine.
In a luxury department store on Zurich's Bahnhofstrasse, he seeks distraction when he is jolted from his thoughts by a sonorous voice with a French accent. "Would you like to test a perfume?" asks the young perfume saleswoman, whose name tag reads Martineau Sophie, and she beams at Badertscher Jürg. After a brief inspection, Badertscher Jürg decides to accept the testing offer. "It smells like Eau Sauvage. That’s also my father’s perfume! I’ll show you other perfumes from the Eau Sauvage universe!" Badertscher Jürg is satisfied. With the distraction, with the sight of the distraction, with himself, and the testing suggestion. And so Martineau Sophie conjures three flacons onto the counter next to the cash register: Aéroplane by Detaille, Aigues Vives (Perfume) by Galimard, and Eau d'Aviateur by Flou Atelier.
Badertscher Jürg immediately recognizes a kinship of all three scents to his Eau Sauvage. Aéroplane reminds him of his vintage flacon of Eau Sauvage from 1994. Deeper, spicier, herbaceous than his current Eau Sauvage - and more gasoline-like. More precisely: aviation fuel. Badertscher Jürg shakes his head. Aviation fuel? That won’t score points with Badertscher-Kummer Vreni, vice-chairwoman of the Greens in his municipality. "The whole flying Mallorca party crowd is destroying the environment. Flying needs to become more expensive again!" Badertscher Jürg recalls his wife’s grumbling in the first-class lounge when he flew with her to New York for shopping last Christmas.
Next, he turns to Aigues Vives (Perfume). His melancholy has vanished. This is partly due to the charm of Demoiselle Martineau, but also to the scent. "This is Eau Sauvage with the sun of southern France. Three-day beard. And Corsican joie de vivre! This is the real Eau Sauvage perfume, not the one Dior Christian sells under this name," Badertscher Jürg thinks to himself, recalling the first vacation in Avignon with Badertscher-Kummer Vreni, who was still Kummer Vreni back then - and for primarily career-related reasons was married to Badertscher Jürg seven months later. "Badertscher, you can’t wear that in the office! That’s a scent for carefree deputy directors or daydreaming humanities scholars." And so Badertscher Jürg dismisses Aigues Vives as well, although he feels a certain wistfulness.
After another brief inspection, Badertscher Jürg turns to the last test candidate. Eau d'Aviateur. Badertscher Jürg also detects a kinship with Eau Sauvage here, although Eau d'Aviateur reminds him a bit more of Aéroplane.
In the top note, Badertscher Jürg identifies his Eau Sauvage. Garnished with a bit of orange and enlivened by the graceful, sun-drenched lemon from Monsieur Balmain (un-reformulated version from 1990 by Becker Calice). Petitgrain projects the citrus scent into a kaleidoscope, giving Eau d'Aviateur a texture of soft citrus clouds in southern French yellow and green tones.
The floral heart of Eau d'Aviateur is herbaceous and green, somewhat less musty than in Aéroplane. The heart is framed in gentle light wood, natural, soft, and carried with subtlety.
Badertscher Jürg likes what he smells: his Eau Sauvage, a petroleum-free variant of Aéroplane, and the citrus joie de vivre of Aigues Vives, although not as exuberantly. Badertscher Jürg pulls out his company credit card and treats himself to the scent.
Badertscher Jürg is back in his office. Just before his lunch at the golf club, he assesses the further scent progression of Eau d'Aviateur. He misses the oakmoss note of Eau Sauvage a little, which in the current formulation is noticeably richer, crunchier, and darker green. The green, slightly smoky leaf note (probably mate) in Eau d'Aviateur is not a full substitute.
Badertscher Jürg stands by the window for a while and observes the aircraft mechanics at the nearby airfield. Suddenly, he believes he can smell the gray-blue overalls of the mechanics. Overalls that are human, a hint of fresh, metallic sweat, a bit of oil on their hands. A scent of adventure, freedom, satisfaction from a day’s work completed. Civet and white musk. Civet, like a tiger wandering across a lonely plain under a milky sky in the damp, cold snow. Musk, like soft cloud castles in the sky over the South Sea.
When Badertscher Jürg arrives home in the evening, he is welcomed by Badertscher-Kummer Vreni. "You smell familiar. Like back in Avignon," Badertscher-Kummer Vreni beams at her Badertscher Jürg.
And when Badertscher Jürg sometimes stands at the window of his office, looking into the clouds, wearing Eau d'Aviateur, he imagines himself in a leather lambskin jacket of the adventurous pilots of the 1930s, somewhere over the Atlantic, flying through cloud castles, without a specific destination.
It is surprising that Eau d'Aviateur is not more widely known on Parfumo. It would actually be a Parfumo scent. Eau Sauvage universe, niche, a hint of civet, moderately priced - and a fantastic flacon. Heavy like a full steel gasoline canister, crafted with great attention to detail. If Eau Sauvage had this civet note or Eau d'Aviateur had the oakmoss note of Eau Sauvage, then this would be my perfect scent.
As Badertscher Jürg walks through the lonely hallway of the top floor (those in lower floors are not allowed access to the top floor), he leaves a fine scent trail. Eau Sauvage by Dior Christian, which his wife, Badertscher-Kummer Vreni, places next to his white shirt every morning. Badertscher Jürg is satisfied. With his numbers, with his suit in the reflection, with Badertscher-Kummer Vreni. And of course, also with his scent from Dior Christian. But on this brilliantly beautiful Friday in November, Badertscher Jürg lingers a little longer at the window. His gaze does not wander over the snow-capped peaks of the pre-Alps; he looks at the nearby airfield.
Even though Badertscher Jürg hasn’t spoken to anyone who doesn’t hold a management position in a long time, he feels like a friend of the blue-collar worker - at least if he knew any. Sometimes he regrets not encountering them at his golf club by Lake Zurich or during his ski vacation in St. Moritz. The chypre aura of his scent from Dior Christian makes Badertscher Jürg feel melancholic today. To the surprise of his assistant Kneubühler Livia, Badertscher Jürg shortly thereafter leaves his office without a word (even the daily glance at his assistant’s behind is absent today, much to her irritation) and gets into his limousine.
In a luxury department store on Zurich's Bahnhofstrasse, he seeks distraction when he is jolted from his thoughts by a sonorous voice with a French accent. "Would you like to test a perfume?" asks the young perfume saleswoman, whose name tag reads Martineau Sophie, and she beams at Badertscher Jürg. After a brief inspection, Badertscher Jürg decides to accept the testing offer. "It smells like Eau Sauvage. That’s also my father’s perfume! I’ll show you other perfumes from the Eau Sauvage universe!" Badertscher Jürg is satisfied. With the distraction, with the sight of the distraction, with himself, and the testing suggestion. And so Martineau Sophie conjures three flacons onto the counter next to the cash register: Aéroplane by Detaille, Aigues Vives (Perfume) by Galimard, and Eau d'Aviateur by Flou Atelier.
Badertscher Jürg immediately recognizes a kinship of all three scents to his Eau Sauvage. Aéroplane reminds him of his vintage flacon of Eau Sauvage from 1994. Deeper, spicier, herbaceous than his current Eau Sauvage - and more gasoline-like. More precisely: aviation fuel. Badertscher Jürg shakes his head. Aviation fuel? That won’t score points with Badertscher-Kummer Vreni, vice-chairwoman of the Greens in his municipality. "The whole flying Mallorca party crowd is destroying the environment. Flying needs to become more expensive again!" Badertscher Jürg recalls his wife’s grumbling in the first-class lounge when he flew with her to New York for shopping last Christmas.
Next, he turns to Aigues Vives (Perfume). His melancholy has vanished. This is partly due to the charm of Demoiselle Martineau, but also to the scent. "This is Eau Sauvage with the sun of southern France. Three-day beard. And Corsican joie de vivre! This is the real Eau Sauvage perfume, not the one Dior Christian sells under this name," Badertscher Jürg thinks to himself, recalling the first vacation in Avignon with Badertscher-Kummer Vreni, who was still Kummer Vreni back then - and for primarily career-related reasons was married to Badertscher Jürg seven months later. "Badertscher, you can’t wear that in the office! That’s a scent for carefree deputy directors or daydreaming humanities scholars." And so Badertscher Jürg dismisses Aigues Vives as well, although he feels a certain wistfulness.
After another brief inspection, Badertscher Jürg turns to the last test candidate. Eau d'Aviateur. Badertscher Jürg also detects a kinship with Eau Sauvage here, although Eau d'Aviateur reminds him a bit more of Aéroplane.
In the top note, Badertscher Jürg identifies his Eau Sauvage. Garnished with a bit of orange and enlivened by the graceful, sun-drenched lemon from Monsieur Balmain (un-reformulated version from 1990 by Becker Calice). Petitgrain projects the citrus scent into a kaleidoscope, giving Eau d'Aviateur a texture of soft citrus clouds in southern French yellow and green tones.
The floral heart of Eau d'Aviateur is herbaceous and green, somewhat less musty than in Aéroplane. The heart is framed in gentle light wood, natural, soft, and carried with subtlety.
Badertscher Jürg likes what he smells: his Eau Sauvage, a petroleum-free variant of Aéroplane, and the citrus joie de vivre of Aigues Vives, although not as exuberantly. Badertscher Jürg pulls out his company credit card and treats himself to the scent.
Badertscher Jürg is back in his office. Just before his lunch at the golf club, he assesses the further scent progression of Eau d'Aviateur. He misses the oakmoss note of Eau Sauvage a little, which in the current formulation is noticeably richer, crunchier, and darker green. The green, slightly smoky leaf note (probably mate) in Eau d'Aviateur is not a full substitute.
Badertscher Jürg stands by the window for a while and observes the aircraft mechanics at the nearby airfield. Suddenly, he believes he can smell the gray-blue overalls of the mechanics. Overalls that are human, a hint of fresh, metallic sweat, a bit of oil on their hands. A scent of adventure, freedom, satisfaction from a day’s work completed. Civet and white musk. Civet, like a tiger wandering across a lonely plain under a milky sky in the damp, cold snow. Musk, like soft cloud castles in the sky over the South Sea.
When Badertscher Jürg arrives home in the evening, he is welcomed by Badertscher-Kummer Vreni. "You smell familiar. Like back in Avignon," Badertscher-Kummer Vreni beams at her Badertscher Jürg.
And when Badertscher Jürg sometimes stands at the window of his office, looking into the clouds, wearing Eau d'Aviateur, he imagines himself in a leather lambskin jacket of the adventurous pilots of the 1930s, somewhere over the Atlantic, flying through cloud castles, without a specific destination.
It is surprising that Eau d'Aviateur is not more widely known on Parfumo. It would actually be a Parfumo scent. Eau Sauvage universe, niche, a hint of civet, moderately priced - and a fantastic flacon. Heavy like a full steel gasoline canister, crafted with great attention to detail. If Eau Sauvage had this civet note or Eau d'Aviateur had the oakmoss note of Eau Sauvage, then this would be my perfect scent.
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