Mediterraneum Proteo Profumi 1993 Eau de Toilette

Little yellow lemon rays meet my nose, tickling and nudging with slightly green pricks, peeling away from a stream of marzipan-like viscosity that leads me to the bathroom. I look at myself kindly in the mirror and take a sip of Pina Colada, which surprisingly awaits me on the dresser. Herbs and woods, thickly wrapped in a vanilla-amber shell, unfold their aroma full-bodied, refreshing, but just enough so as not to detract from the coziness. Could it be that a pear has wandered into the cocktail? Definitely an excellent idea to leave it here. I let hot water run into the sink. The drifting beard hairs in the soapy water could convey signs of solid masculinity, but that is quickly caught again by gentle, slightly smoky vapors from the cocktail glass. I need to take another sip to keep the day’s wonderfully lemony-pear-like creaminess alive. The shaving process also proceeds in a slice-like manner. The mist makes it hard to see anything. It doesn’t matter, the magic potion is almost finished. At the bottom, caramelized foam, herb remnants, pine needles.

Somewhat drowsy from all the impressions, it seems best to me not to scare away the beauty of the day with any busyness, but to capture its energy with extended relaxation on the beach or in a Sicilian coastal village.
A rose cut flower arrangement is supposed to have been delivered to the windowsill for me. So be it, back into the box it goes, the midday sun stands golden in the sky and warms the cobbled streets, reflecting in the turquoise of the Ionian Sea. And one can quite clearly notice in which decade one currently finds oneself. But here it also fits, the beautiful life, which only becomes industrious when the longing for romance drives it, otherwise it glides along in all tranquility. Past times that one can devotedly surrender to for some intense hours.

Interesting what one can stumble upon in foreign bathrooms.
A forgotten bottle, wrapped in blue plastic, almost empty, piqued my curiosity.
After some research, it became clear that this is the travel size, which is also depicted here, as was common in the early 90s with several fragrances. Back then, I owned travel sizes, meaning plastic-coated bottles, from Nike Sport Fragrance and Trussardi Action Uomo, and I actually liked taking them on trips due to their small size and additional breakage protection.
The scent here was completely unknown to me until now, and I have hardly any information about its market placement. It seems that the fragrance has become quite rare and is now offered at steep prices.
It's a shame, really, because this one deserves a more in-depth exploration.

It starts off bitter-fresh-citrusy and presents itself very elegantly. There’s an impression of bitter orange, grapefruit, and perhaps a more robust bergamot. An interesting fresh-cooling note reminds me of mint or fresh chamomile, but maybe there's another kitchen herb involved, according to the pyramid I studied later, it would likely be tarragon. Biagiotti Uomo's opening is somewhat similar.

The mid-phase is spicy-fresh and indeed Mediterranean, much like one might find in an Acqua di Parma, but without the same intensity.

Later, the scent takes on a slightly soapy twist, which doesn’t come off as powdery but rather is accompanied by a sour note. This reminds me of Ungaro II or the Homme de Gres After Shave. Quite pleasant and not as "flat" as the two mentioned.

In the end, a subtle floral and slightly sweet component emerges on the skin, reminiscent of the style found in Platinum Egoiste, without it smelling directly like that.

In summary, an elegant, fresh-spicy fragrance with a slightly cologne-like finish, where the herb-citrusy-minty opening is the most exciting part for me.
Unfortunately, I find it difficult to expand on the experiences; I made two attempts to obtain intact minis, but in both cases, the top note was virtually gone and had decayed in favor of something humid-powdery, with the soapy element strongly in the foreground. My willingness to take the risk of investing in an expensive original bottle remains low, so I will probably file it away as an interesting experience. Or should I try again?

"" came to me.
Just like that, like a stray dog, a wandering cat, deciding that I would henceforth be "his person."
One day it was there, the bottle, the tall flat one with the strange flip cap, standing in my collection, without me really knowing how it got there.
Nowhere could I find anything about the scent, even here it had not yet been added to the directory.
No pyramid told me anything about its character, its origin remained in the dark - "seems to be a mixed breed, up and down the street," I thought, partly amused, partly irritated, and certainly with a good portion of arrogance that led me to suspect a scent of bargain table level.
Ashes to my head.

The first spray silenced my thoughts.
Very clear, very herbal, fresh yet dry, a scent rose from my skin that immediately made me blush - whatever else was to come, "" had nothing in common with a bargain table, that much was clear within seconds.
But "" does not hold my arrogance against me - almost immediately it leaves behind all coolness and severity, warms up and unfolds a subtly spicy-fruity bouquet that is not gourmand in traces, conjuring up in my mind a very relaxed, friendly-casual late thirty-something, self-assured and engaging, yet reserved and quiet.
Its features are striking and at the same time ambassadors of its sensitivity, its sensuality - it knows its attractiveness, yet does not flirt with it, does not emphasize it, does not impose itself.
Man, friend, father.
Protector, listener, horse thief.
Woman-Man, Man-Man.

It is difficult to dissect "" into its individual parts, to pick it apart, to describe strictly analytically separated impressions.
Perhaps it doesn't even make sense, there is no necessity arising.
The notes are closely and densely intertwined, always in motion like the dunes, the sea, a grain field in the summer wind, details perceptible for moments and then disappearing again in their entirety - gentle yet powerful and exceedingly attractive.
Hours pass in which the spices slowly gain contour and mix with sand and wood and skin, warm and deep and staying close to me, not rushing ahead, not proclaiming anything, not putting up posters, yet clearly, reliably, familiarly.
One that stays.
One for life.

Just yesterday I found "" here.
Just yesterday I got to experience that not only I love him so much, my stray companion.
I still do not know where he came from.
But I know that he will always have a special place with me.

Mediterraneum was, as far as I can remember, not a success here. I always got my bottles in Switzerland. I can't understand it, because Mediterraneum is for me the feeling of the South bottled up. When I wear it, I always think of the sea, blue skies, scorching sun, rugged landscapes. In the evenings, at quaint, dreamy bars with colorful umbrellas, relaxed people - tranquility. It initially smells of fresh citrus fruits. But only for a short time, then a wonderfully bitter, erotic note mixes in.

This scent cannot be worn in drizzle and 5°. It needs summer, or better yet, summer nights. As I mentioned, the fragrance has a crackling eroticism that will hardly leave anyone cold. In the air of the slowly cooling summer night, a small bar with dim lighting, ice-cold gin and tonic, and from the speakers, songs of love, longing, and promises are playing. Of course in Italian or Spanish.

This scent, under the control of Armani or Boss, would hit like a bomb. Thankfully, it remains a hidden gem ;-)