Blasted Heath Penhaligon's 2015

Penhaligon's, one of the most traditional British perfumers, looks back on a company history of nearly 150 years and has gifted the world with fragrance jewels like Blenheim or Hammam Bouquet, Bluebell or English Fern. Apart from Floris, there is no other manufacturer in the UK that has been able to shape the olfactory identity of our northwestern island neighbors in such a way. If one had to name 'the British perfume' - it would be from Penhaligon's! To acquire (and maintain) such a reputation requires quality, consistency, innovation, and sensitivity. In addition to the aforementioned old-school classics, the house repeatedly manages to create contemporary, new 'young classics' - Sartorial, for example, or Juniper Sling. Not all of them were to my liking, but there was a clearly recognizable line that was based on the reinterpretation of its own tradition and was therefore convincing.

Blasted Heath, 'blasted' or 'destroyed heath' - 'blasted' can also mean 'cursed' in English - the idea of deconstructing a traditionally green-fresh fragrance seems spontaneously successful - what could be more English (or Irish or Scottish) than a heather scent? Unfortunately - and it is more regret than 'just' displeasure - the implementation lacks all the previously mentioned attributes: sensitivity, consistency, and quality. A house like Penhaligon's will never become the favorite of youthful disco-goers who might like a fragrance like this. And even within the cohort of 'new' dark aquatic scents - and Blasted Heath attempts to align itself with this - there are far rounder, more beautiful, and more original ones than this. Blasted Heath relies on a green-aquatic base accord, which reveals its synthetic origin from the first to the last moment - assuming that this is what the fragrance tries to mark as innovative. None of the notes added to this accord manage to connect with Penhaligon's essence and tradition, so that this perfume in the familiar bottle with the court supplier insignia and the beloved little bow disturbs and irritates me.

Conclusion: 'Where do you go to my lovely?' asks British singer Peter Sarstedt in 1969 in his eponymous song and implores his childhood friend not to forget her origins and her roots. One is tempted to send a recording of it to London and hope that someone there hears it.

Since I live on Heide Street - I curiously tried "heath" by Penhaligons.

Unfortunately, I couldn't translate "blasted" in the store - otherwise I would have been warned.

I am greeted by a dust-dry desert wind - that brings no coolness with it.
I can't detect any aquatic notes - and my mouth is getting dry.
A glass of whiskey is ready - but I don't drink alcohol.
The tobacco is crumbly and doesn't tempt me to smoke. The woods appear cumbersome - and one fears getting a splinter.

It isn't as dreary and desert-like on my Heide Street.
Fortunately.

Sticking with the desert imagery, the Kölsch song comes to mind: The caravan moves on - the Sultan is thirsty.

I also urgently need a glass of water now.

The bottle. It was the bottle that tempted me to try Blasted Heath.

The scent somehow reminds me of the seaside. Fresh, bright notes. Slightly mineral, traces of iodine and dry grasses. Admittedly, it comes across as a bit synthetic at first but is quite pleasant. As it develops, the fragrance reveals a somewhat - I would say - floral-muddy character. Perhaps the shoreline, mudflats at low tide, bleached driftwood? Hard to describe. In Wood Sage & Sea Salt by Jo Malone, these associations are more spontaneous and seem more natural.

In the perfumery, there was a small seating area. I took a seat and immersed myself in Blasted Heath at my leisure. Normally, I have images in my head shortly after perceiving the scent notes. But here, it wasn't that simple.

Then three older gentlemen entered the shop. Over 60, gray hair, tanned, with winning smiles.
"What do you have there, such a cute bottle?" Can I try it too? Tester and test strips are passed around. Silence, deep concentration.

"So this is what it smells like in summer, early in the morning, at Budersand* by hole 9 where the bushes with the wild rosehips stand."

Wouuuuu, nothing beats insider knowledge.

Dear Parfumo community. I have never played golf. Haven't been "up" since I was 6 years old. I only know that "Budersand" is praised for its breakfast buffet and that Jens Rittmeyer is one of the best chefs in Germany. If there are any golfers among you who have played there, please let me know if that really holds true.
I find it totally exciting to approach fragrances from such perspectives.

* Budersand, hotel and golf resort, Sylt.

Recently at Penhaligon's:

Somehow, the incredible selection at Harrod's nearly overwhelmed me, and it was a relief to step into the small Penhaligon's store, familiar bottles, without much bling-bling, the simple carousel with all the more or less known fragrances. The lady there smiles at me kindly and asks if I already know the two new releases from Alberto Morillas. Wow, Senor Morillas at Penhaligon's?! Well, let's spray it on fresh.

The opening is quite aquatic (which I do enjoy in men's fragrances), a fresh breeze wafts into my nose, wind and waves right in the middle of London! However, before it becomes too maritime, the sage slows the voyage down, and I find myself back on the shore, oh, what am I saying, on the green cliffs, where the wind blows against the green bushes. It becomes smokier, the tobacco gently transitions to patchouli and...... huh?! Patchouli?! Hmm, I certainly didn't expect that connection (yes, I did read the fragrance pyramid afterwards), but it surprisingly works well. As if after a stormy afternoon at the coast, one settles down in the evening with a good glass by the fireplace. The very subtle sweetness of this patchouli accord imperceptibly transitions into a woody vetiver note and then lingers closely with the musk for a while, until the fire in the fireplace finally goes out.

I admit it: the scent painting by Senor Morillas usually works for me.

The bottle is, like all Penhaligon's, pretty, easy to spray, and the longevity is good at about 8 hours.

I don’t know what possessed me to buy this perfume a year ago.
This teaches me again…….. never test a perfume on a scent strip. ……..the bottle looked nice too. And that was probably it……….

Applied at home and already wrinkled my nose. Somehow not really my thing. A fresh smell of mildew wafts past my nose.
Then came the slap in the office. “You smell like a wet dog.”
That was the end of the testing phase for this perfume.
Now I knew what the smell reminded me of. My dishwasher dishes smell like that too when the salt has run out. That slightly musty forest scent. So like “wet dog.” You could also call this “aquatic.”
Worn once and placed at the back of the closet. Maybe I’ll try it again…….maybe not……..I don’t think so!