Top Notes 
Bergamot
Lemon
Lime
Mandarin orange
Passion fruit
Heart Notes 
Clove
Jasmine
Sage
Violet
Base Notes 
Musk
Patchouli
Sandalwood
Vanilla
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11
How irrational impulses can lead to exactly the right action.
When 65 was offered in the swap game, my first impulse was: I’m signing up for that! In the next moment, however, I was already asking myself why on earth. I had only had one scent from the brand under my nose, and that was my first negative review here on Parfumo. However, I hadn’t criticized it because it was poorly made, but because I simply didn’t like the smell at all. So why did I want to sign up for 65, the cat in the bag from a brand I hadn’t liked anything from until then? I had a feeling: The color of this bottle has manipulated me! This wonderful purple! And I somehow also like the number 65; in its digit sum, it becomes the magical eleven and then the harmonious two. Is that a reason to choose a perfume? No. To let facts and less impulsiveness determine my actions, I called up the scent here and looked at the pyramid. I already liked that. However, one can sometimes put little faith in pyramids, so I read Medusa's comment. And since I had noticed earlier that Medusa often perceives scents similarly to me, I clicked back into the swap game; the offer was still there, and I jumped in.
So. And now it’s here, the wonderfully purple bottle.
I can reveal in advance: The content also brings me joy.
It starts right in the top note with a true cornucopia of fragrance notes, at first slightly bitter mandarin, behind which something powdery flashes, quickly becoming more pronounced. 65 now unfolds its special character, which remains in the foreground throughout and is not easy to describe because, as it seems to me, a completely new accord made up of several individual notes is being created for my nose. This accord is seamless, almost resembling a mutable, deeply moving single note that I have never smelled in any other fragrance. Initially, I think I perceive what I have identified as "violet leaf" in other scents, but never liked because it seemed too artificial and stuffy to me. Here, there seems to be a hint of it, and for the first time, I understand why others like this smell: it has something spicy, slightly herbal, and what seems stuffy in larger quantities now contributes a mild warmth. Another component makes 65 a bit more floral. I would most likely smell marigold here, a sweet marigold, but I suspect this is already a interplay of several fragrance notes. Then I perceive something that has a touch of pencil. This is usually cedar, probably also an interplay, since cedar should, like marigold, not be present at all. Last but not least, the slightly almondy sweetness that underlies everything should be mentioned.
Overall, I smell a hint of "violet leaf," marigold, slightly woody pencil-cedar, sweet almond, and mandarin. One should imagine these components as an inseparable unit, moving within itself, shimmering, for about 9 hours.
The transition to the base occurs only very, very slowly, where the slightly capricious violet leaf, marigold, and pencil recede and allow the soft, warm, spicy-sweet components to take the lead, without completely disappearing.
For me, 65 is a welcome new discovery:
The described "accord" is very extraordinary. When wearing it, 65 leads me from a pleasant but interesting scent that continually draws my nose back to my wrist to understand this rather strange yet soothing combination, gradually into calmer realms that suggest to me that I have now understood and can let go of my wrist with ease.
But with the next spray, it starts all over again.
I recognize a certain addictive potential.
And the purple of the bottle - beautiful!
Thank you, SignorinaFav, for the bottle, thank you, Medusa, for the comment below, without which I probably wouldn’t have had this pleasure.
So. And now it’s here, the wonderfully purple bottle.
I can reveal in advance: The content also brings me joy.
It starts right in the top note with a true cornucopia of fragrance notes, at first slightly bitter mandarin, behind which something powdery flashes, quickly becoming more pronounced. 65 now unfolds its special character, which remains in the foreground throughout and is not easy to describe because, as it seems to me, a completely new accord made up of several individual notes is being created for my nose. This accord is seamless, almost resembling a mutable, deeply moving single note that I have never smelled in any other fragrance. Initially, I think I perceive what I have identified as "violet leaf" in other scents, but never liked because it seemed too artificial and stuffy to me. Here, there seems to be a hint of it, and for the first time, I understand why others like this smell: it has something spicy, slightly herbal, and what seems stuffy in larger quantities now contributes a mild warmth. Another component makes 65 a bit more floral. I would most likely smell marigold here, a sweet marigold, but I suspect this is already a interplay of several fragrance notes. Then I perceive something that has a touch of pencil. This is usually cedar, probably also an interplay, since cedar should, like marigold, not be present at all. Last but not least, the slightly almondy sweetness that underlies everything should be mentioned.
Overall, I smell a hint of "violet leaf," marigold, slightly woody pencil-cedar, sweet almond, and mandarin. One should imagine these components as an inseparable unit, moving within itself, shimmering, for about 9 hours.
The transition to the base occurs only very, very slowly, where the slightly capricious violet leaf, marigold, and pencil recede and allow the soft, warm, spicy-sweet components to take the lead, without completely disappearing.
For me, 65 is a welcome new discovery:
The described "accord" is very extraordinary. When wearing it, 65 leads me from a pleasant but interesting scent that continually draws my nose back to my wrist to understand this rather strange yet soothing combination, gradually into calmer realms that suggest to me that I have now understood and can let go of my wrist with ease.
But with the next spray, it starts all over again.
I recognize a certain addictive potential.
And the purple of the bottle - beautiful!
Thank you, SignorinaFav, for the bottle, thank you, Medusa, for the comment below, without which I probably wouldn’t have had this pleasure.
Updated on 05/25/2017
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