Top Notes 
Heart Notes 
Base Notes 
10/27/2019
Meggi
212 Reviews
Translated
Show original
Meggi
Top Review
34
Custody of a commander
If you look at the pictures of the commanders of the "Gorch Fock" from 1958 until today (http://esys.org/gofo/Kommandanten.html), you may share my suspicion that until about the nineties - in addition to all the indispensable professional qualifications for leading a tall ship - optical aspects always played an important role in the filling of this position. The gentlemen were very similar in type.
Now it could be argued that this is a very exposed position, which simply requires a certain "total package". Which is already clear from the ranking. In my time there Immo von Schnurbein was the only "captain at sea" who was actually still sailing. All of his (few) rank comrades, as far as I know, pupated somewhere on land a commander's or similar armchair and left the gurgling around to the batches of the so-called "frigate captain" downwards.
I rather suspect, however, that the navy has kept an idea of the ideal of a naval officer far into the Federal Republic of Germany, in which inner and outer characteristics were linked in an unappetizing way.
As well as immo...uh...always, Immo von Schnurbein, anyway, fit in there a hundred percent. Knobby, taciturn, upright and perfectly commanding. He liked to chew on a match, which was occasionally replaced by a cigarette. By the way, he smoked less than he probably believed himself - the navigation-obber-free also made use of the box during the lonely night watches.
Seen on its own, such a habitus, always on a young sailor, appears to be pithy and individual at first, and only when the angle of view is broadened does the role or cliché emerge. And that brings us to the scent: scented for himself, he comes across as strong, concise, masculine because of me, and completely flawless at all. Nevertheless, in view of the many similarities of its kind, there is unfortunately something interchangeable about it. Of course this doesn't detract from the quality and it's easy to understand that some 'Bayolea' like the Penhaligon's assortment.
Citrus, moss, soap; that's the order of the day. Within minutes it becomes almost bitter, the spices definitely emphasize their austere side. But above all, soap. In the process I think of floral hints that act as small swabs on a sure green. Violets, maybe? For God's sake, no flowering! That would be like catching the commander at the ballet bar.
To be on the safe side, the fragrance first turns into a bitter green herbaceousness à la Duc de Vervins halfway, before it allows an interim touch of (sandal) sweetness in the afternoon. Otherwise, typical basic products are violated in the process, which do not want to leave any doubt about their angular masculinity. After barely eight hours the fragrance ends in a musk-dominated green-soapy artificial cream, now again without any sweetness.
Cream. Cream?!? Has the commander been caught in skin care?
I thank Ergoproxy for the sample.
Now it could be argued that this is a very exposed position, which simply requires a certain "total package". Which is already clear from the ranking. In my time there Immo von Schnurbein was the only "captain at sea" who was actually still sailing. All of his (few) rank comrades, as far as I know, pupated somewhere on land a commander's or similar armchair and left the gurgling around to the batches of the so-called "frigate captain" downwards.
I rather suspect, however, that the navy has kept an idea of the ideal of a naval officer far into the Federal Republic of Germany, in which inner and outer characteristics were linked in an unappetizing way.
As well as immo...uh...always, Immo von Schnurbein, anyway, fit in there a hundred percent. Knobby, taciturn, upright and perfectly commanding. He liked to chew on a match, which was occasionally replaced by a cigarette. By the way, he smoked less than he probably believed himself - the navigation-obber-free also made use of the box during the lonely night watches.
Seen on its own, such a habitus, always on a young sailor, appears to be pithy and individual at first, and only when the angle of view is broadened does the role or cliché emerge. And that brings us to the scent: scented for himself, he comes across as strong, concise, masculine because of me, and completely flawless at all. Nevertheless, in view of the many similarities of its kind, there is unfortunately something interchangeable about it. Of course this doesn't detract from the quality and it's easy to understand that some 'Bayolea' like the Penhaligon's assortment.
Citrus, moss, soap; that's the order of the day. Within minutes it becomes almost bitter, the spices definitely emphasize their austere side. But above all, soap. In the process I think of floral hints that act as small swabs on a sure green. Violets, maybe? For God's sake, no flowering! That would be like catching the commander at the ballet bar.
To be on the safe side, the fragrance first turns into a bitter green herbaceousness à la Duc de Vervins halfway, before it allows an interim touch of (sandal) sweetness in the afternoon. Otherwise, typical basic products are violated in the process, which do not want to leave any doubt about their angular masculinity. After barely eight hours the fragrance ends in a musk-dominated green-soapy artificial cream, now again without any sweetness.
Cream. Cream?!? Has the commander been caught in skin care?
I thank Ergoproxy for the sample.
28 Comments
KingPin
Jssfranch
