Top Notes 
Aniseed
Apple
Bergamot
Ginger
Mandarin orange blossom
Orange blossom
Petrol
Heart Notes 
Almond blossom
Blueberry
Damask rose
Hibiscus
Lotus
Orchid
Osmanthus
White blossoms
Ylang-ylang
Base Notes 
Ambergris
Amyris
Kelp
Musk
Oud
Patchouli
Sandalwood
Woody notes03/16/2024
PeteRalon007
105 Reviews
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PeteRalon007
3
Attack of the swamp crocodiles
Background: Perfumos send me samples, I then test the perfumes sent without any knowledge and describe my response - that of an inexperienced dilettante.
Well then, let's do it. New round, new experiences. Highly concentrated, I lift the freshly sprayed paper strip to my nose and smell... smell... my God, what is that supposed to be? Somehow it's indefinably somewhere between fruit (green apple from the supermarket?) and flowers. Then I imagine it's a pear, think briefly of Kirke and mentally throw the pear back into Hades. I feel overwhelmed and hope for help from a perfume expert, my 4-year-old daughter. She has recently taken up perfumery and mixes all kinds of greenery in the garden to create remarkable compositions, the green freshness of which has not yet been observed in any chemical product. Her opinion: "Daddy, it's got swamp crocodile in it, and air. "
Oha. Who doesn't know the lovely swamp crocodile that grows out of the ears of graying middle-aged romantics? But I've decided to go for apple after all! Or both after all?
Several hours later, everything develops in the direction of spicy and I briefly consider whether I could find clues on the kitchen shelf, but this becomes a little too silly for me.
Somehow this fragrance seems like a work of art by Marcel Duchamp. Ingenious and unique, but so cerebral that the atmosphere limps along with a walking frame. But that is of course a matter of taste.
The fragrance ends with a mixture of woods, some musk and vanilla. Isn't it? So this creation largely overtaxes my simple nature, and my inner Louis de Funes sulks.
Well then, let's do it. New round, new experiences. Highly concentrated, I lift the freshly sprayed paper strip to my nose and smell... smell... my God, what is that supposed to be? Somehow it's indefinably somewhere between fruit (green apple from the supermarket?) and flowers. Then I imagine it's a pear, think briefly of Kirke and mentally throw the pear back into Hades. I feel overwhelmed and hope for help from a perfume expert, my 4-year-old daughter. She has recently taken up perfumery and mixes all kinds of greenery in the garden to create remarkable compositions, the green freshness of which has not yet been observed in any chemical product. Her opinion: "Daddy, it's got swamp crocodile in it, and air. "
Oha. Who doesn't know the lovely swamp crocodile that grows out of the ears of graying middle-aged romantics? But I've decided to go for apple after all! Or both after all?
Several hours later, everything develops in the direction of spicy and I briefly consider whether I could find clues on the kitchen shelf, but this becomes a little too silly for me.
Somehow this fragrance seems like a work of art by Marcel Duchamp. Ingenious and unique, but so cerebral that the atmosphere limps along with a walking frame. But that is of course a matter of taste.
The fragrance ends with a mixture of woods, some musk and vanilla. Isn't it? So this creation largely overtaxes my simple nature, and my inner Louis de Funes sulks.
