10
I won't be happy with such leather
I have a good acquaintance who has at least as great a passion for good fragrances as I do. However, he is a good bit ahead of me in one respect: he has no qualms about shelling out a three-digit sum for a little Eau, while my threshold is as insurmountable as the death strip of the inner-German border. We don't see each other that often, and at one of our last meetings, he made me incredibly happy with Ford's Tobacco Vanilla. This time, he was holding Ombré Leather in his hand. "Check it out, it's from the same house as the summer gingerbread."
Since I didn't have a cold at the time, I was happy to oblige. Leather... - is always good! But I only know Hombre; Ombré is unfamiliar to me. So, better to be a bit cautious. I take off the cap and - it definitely won't go unnoticed on my wrist! Basically, the top and heart notes consist of just two things: black leather and Arabian jasmine. Black leather, how can one best describe that? Well, it's not the skin of some exotic animal, but rather leather that has seen quite a bit. This scent reminds me a bit of leather that has been soaked, yes, practically drowned, in wheel grease. Not clean grease, but a black, dirty sludge that carries the scent of the street: dust and metal abrasion. The actual leather note thus becomes black and harsh.
And now comes the fatal part: jasmine. The greasy leather note, which is already not one of the pleasant scents, becomes something that inevitably makes me think of PAHs: polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons, among others found in tar oils.
Thank goodness I only tested it on a strip contrary to my usual habits, because this is truly too much of a good thing.
Unfortunately, this base mood lingers for hours. A little bit of light sharpness is brought in by the cardamom, while vetiver repeatedly delivers small sharp needle pricks and never intends or has the power to give more, which patchouli also cannot achieve, remaining rather diffuse.
Only at the base does this fragrance become bearable for me. Amber and moss do not take away the blackness of the leather; they do not strip it of its grease. But they do something with it. They allow the leather to age. It still hangs on the old cart, but it hasn't come into contact with the grease for 20, 30, or even 50 years. What still clings to it is dried out and lets a little sweetness shine through. However, when I scratch the thicker grease spots on the leather, I find that it is, in places, still not completely dried out and spreads its PAH-typical scent.
I associate the scent with an old-timer driver, whether it's old trucks, cars, motorcycles, or tractors; they just shouldn't be younger than from the 1930s. I also associate the scent with old crafts that are now partly extinct or with the stoker on a steam locomotive. It doesn't fit with a Daytona 675 or a GTI.
And unisex? Whose twisted mind came up with this classification? Show me the girl who loves the smell of wooden railway sleepers and uses creosote instead of shower gel. No amount of stupid talking and camera grinning on YouTube helps - it's all just flattering comments for products provided for free...
Since I didn't have a cold at the time, I was happy to oblige. Leather... - is always good! But I only know Hombre; Ombré is unfamiliar to me. So, better to be a bit cautious. I take off the cap and - it definitely won't go unnoticed on my wrist! Basically, the top and heart notes consist of just two things: black leather and Arabian jasmine. Black leather, how can one best describe that? Well, it's not the skin of some exotic animal, but rather leather that has seen quite a bit. This scent reminds me a bit of leather that has been soaked, yes, practically drowned, in wheel grease. Not clean grease, but a black, dirty sludge that carries the scent of the street: dust and metal abrasion. The actual leather note thus becomes black and harsh.
And now comes the fatal part: jasmine. The greasy leather note, which is already not one of the pleasant scents, becomes something that inevitably makes me think of PAHs: polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons, among others found in tar oils.
Thank goodness I only tested it on a strip contrary to my usual habits, because this is truly too much of a good thing.
Unfortunately, this base mood lingers for hours. A little bit of light sharpness is brought in by the cardamom, while vetiver repeatedly delivers small sharp needle pricks and never intends or has the power to give more, which patchouli also cannot achieve, remaining rather diffuse.
Only at the base does this fragrance become bearable for me. Amber and moss do not take away the blackness of the leather; they do not strip it of its grease. But they do something with it. They allow the leather to age. It still hangs on the old cart, but it hasn't come into contact with the grease for 20, 30, or even 50 years. What still clings to it is dried out and lets a little sweetness shine through. However, when I scratch the thicker grease spots on the leather, I find that it is, in places, still not completely dried out and spreads its PAH-typical scent.
I associate the scent with an old-timer driver, whether it's old trucks, cars, motorcycles, or tractors; they just shouldn't be younger than from the 1930s. I also associate the scent with old crafts that are now partly extinct or with the stoker on a steam locomotive. It doesn't fit with a Daytona 675 or a GTI.
And unisex? Whose twisted mind came up with this classification? Show me the girl who loves the smell of wooden railway sleepers and uses creosote instead of shower gel. No amount of stupid talking and camera grinning on YouTube helps - it's all just flattering comments for products provided for free...
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