Mane' Atelier N°7 Erika Gualtieri

What does Mane’ smell like? Mane' is Erika's memories of her grandmother who was truly named that and lived in Calabria. Mane' is like an old 8mm film projected onto a faded pink and crumbling wall. It is old memories of her childhood and youth that she tells olfactorily in a very impressive way with Mane'. The story of the old and young women who lived there and shared their secrets with each other. Secrets that remained a mystery forever!

When you let Erika's memory film run, you see and feel the depth of these memories and the scents that accompany them. You see an old house standing not far from the beach. You open the door and enter the rooms. Smoke and ash linger in the air from the stove where the fire has gone out. The masonry is old and has become delicate and crumbling from the moisture coming from the sea. You open the windows to let air in. The scent of fresh hay piled up in the fields drying in the sultry midday heat flows in and mixes with the sweet scent of the sea from ambratic and algal notes of seaweed. You walk through the rooms, where very old oak furniture covered in leather is arranged, and open the door that leads to the courtyard behind the house. A small path leads through a garden where May roses bloom. The air is honey-sweet from the nectar of the acacias. Glasses full of honey made from it stand on a small garden table. You continue along the path through the garden to the end. And then you can see them! Under a magnificent magnolia tree sit the old and venerable women in their black dresses on chairs, weaving intricate chignons from their black-gray hair. They whisper secrets and stories into each other's ears while their still proud manes are finely, delicately, and carefully braided among themselves. Stories and secrets that no man must ever know! Little girls in white linen dresses run around them, laughing and playing, while the wind blows through the magnolias, carrying away the petals and their vanilla-sweet scent like an old, faded memory of distant years and deeds.

Mane'
is the scent of childhood, youth, and the maturity of a woman. Mane' is heavy and full of emotions. It is sweet like a beautiful memory and weighty like heavy secrets one carries. It is playful and at the same time deeply sensual and whisperingly erotic. Mane' is not a light perfume. It holds the concentrated power of emotions within. Mane' has fascinated me in a shocking way because you feel as if you are trapped in Erika's mind and memories, and a part of her. A perfume that is definitely made for women and should remain with them. As for longevity and sillage, Mane' is almost like an old memory. It is virtually imperishable and stays with you for a very long time. Extremely durable and intense. Mane' is an exceptionally atmospheric perfume that is far from the familiar. Profound, feminine, emotional, and disturbingly touching!

I am on my way to my grandmother's house in southern Calabria,
which I have inherited.
I haven't been there in a long time, too long...
Slowly, I walk up the path, laborious, the steep rocks.
Broom bushes line this path.
Mane, that was my grandmother's name, lived in a house on the cliffs by the sea.
I have now reached the garden.
The acacia trees are still standing here,
slightly crooked from the constant west wind.
I breathe in their scent deeply,
mixed with a light hint of hay,
from a nearby meadow.
It is late summer...
Slowly, the memories return.
Here we played as children,
on the meadow and here in the garden,
under the shade-giving acacia trees.
From afar, I hear children's laughter,
and the voices of women,
who regularly met here, young and old.

Now I stand before the heavy oak front door,
taking a few deep breaths,
before I open it...
And it is as it always was,
clean...
The polished tiles,
which provided coolness in summer,
the wallpaper on the walls, slightly faded,
in delicate colors.
Even the wooden furniture still exudes a faint hint of furniture polish.
I open the window shutters
and golden rays of sunlight penetrate the room,
along with the ever-present west wind.

I turn around,
my gaze goes to the fireplace,
a constant reminder of the cold winters,
in which the west wind seemed to seep through every crack.
Now this wind carries the scent of the acacias and the sea.
Then my gaze wanders to the leather couch,
and the memories wash over me.

Mane seems to be here with me in the room.
Mane, in her apron,
with her dark hair interwoven with delicate silver threads.
I let myself fall onto the couch, overcome by the depth of my feelings.
On this couch,
where I sat as a child,
and Mane blew on my knees,
when I had scraped them.
Mane, how she sang songs to comfort me.
Me, with my mouth full of small pieces of honeycomb,
from which she extracted the wonderful acacia honey.
As I got older, I still sat on this couch,
snuggled in Mane's arms,
telling of first love
and first heartbreak.
And Mane listened, comforted,
and kept my little secrets.
She laughed with me, dried my tears,
until the fire in the fireplace had long gone out,
with the smoke that always lingered a little in the room.

I get up and make a fire,
the evenings are already getting cool.
And I think of you,
Mane,
my beloved Nonnina,
you were the sweetest grandma in the world.

This scent simply makes you happy. It feels like coming home to people you love.
Even though I am writing here about a grandmother (I have left the name here) and her house, it is also incredibly sensual and erotic, with all the emotions it carries within.
Are these the secrets you keep inside, Mane?

The little rider's room can be found in almost every horse stable, and they have their own charm and special scent. When I started riding in the nineties, smoking was still allowed in these rooms. Some had vending machines, often you could also brew coffee, and they were usually furnished with older leather furniture. I remember wooden floors, often quite worn, and in one corner stood a tiled stove.

When a tournament visit or a group ride for a special occasion was coming up, the horses were usually prepared the night before the spectacle, cleaned particularly well, and then saddles, bridles, and leather riding boots were cleaned as well. After everything was freed from the marks of daily riding, oil or fat with beeswax extract was applied to the leather, which not only nourishes but also provides a nice shine, making both horse and rider shine during their grand appearance.

A sniff of Mane immediately catapults me into such a cozy rider's room. And saddles and boots were definitely polished and greased that day. Because besides the tiled stove, the old furniture, the worn wooden floor, and the cold smoke of cigarettes, I can clearly smell leather care balm from the equestrian supplies. The good and expensive fat that has such a lovely vanilla scent at the back end. Today, my thoughts drifted back to my riding badge exams in my younger years or the legendary New Year's Eve ride at my favorite farm from childhood. I also thought about the first tournaments. And about the many wonderful hours spent with long-time friends as well as new acquaintances who also came and went at these farms and the rider's room. I think of my former riding instructors. All of them different characters. Almost all of them were heavy smokers. But my thoughts also wander to icy fingers and toes in winter and the lovely feeling of slowly warming up by the tiled stove and feeling safe.

Mane is, for me, quite far from a classic perfume, yet it manages to activate many of my memories. A scent for sniffing, not necessarily for wearing, but still somehow beautiful. Cozy. Warm. A piece of childhood.

Since the scent is very intense, I recommend applying just a drop and letting it work its magic. Childhood romance guaranteed.

Many thanks to Susan for the opportunity to test this.

A few years ago, I had some incense sticks that the seller claimed came directly from Nepal and were handmade there. I immediately thought of those when I sprayed "Mane": smoky-resinous and above all a blend of unknown dried herbs. When I take a deep breath, I sense something very dark green. Over the next 1 to 1.2 hours, sweetness joins in. It could be honey, but it doesn't have to be. Gradually, my association shifts from Nepalese incense to the well-known Swiss herbal candy: sweet, malty, herbal, spicy, with a delicate smoky note that never completely disappears.

"Mane" lasts hour after hour. I get at least 24. Only after about 13 hours do I also perceive a floral hint, I think of rose.

But I can also relate to what my previous commentators describe: wood, furniture polish, resin, smoke, leather, honey.

In all of this, I don't find the sillage of M to be too strong.

Honestly? I'm not quite sure whether I like "Mane" or not. I remember that the incense sticks were only used twice, and then I received a ban. I was still undecided about what to think of those things. However, I quite like the herbal candies.

Addendum: roasted sesame was also present.

A very animalistic start. It almost takes my breath away, as it begins with an intense smell of stable. Horse manure and the scent of leather saddles come to my nose immediately. Just one spray and you experience the most powerful punch with a strong sillage. Just when I start to feel really nauseous, the fecal smell finally fades away. The fragrance becomes resinous with components of candle wax. A slight sweetness comes in, and the scent becomes more bearable. The more the fragrance develops, the more I can understand why some people love it; it evolves into something special and soft, even though it never aligns with my taste until the end. With the unbearable opening, the fragrance would have been nothing for me anyway. So be cautious when testing!