Russisch Juchten Harry Lehmann

One of the many peculiarities - or quirks, if you will - of Berlin is that the residents of almost all districts - oh, what: neighborhoods, Kieze, sometimes even streets - are convinced that theirs is the best, most beautiful, and only one - and here and nowhere else is the center of the world. And so it is this very special 'Campanilismo' that stretches from the proverbially suburban Spandau in the west to the idyllic green Rahnsdorf in the east, from the comfortably bourgeois Steglitz in the south to the surprisingly rural Lübars in the north - and all the tourist hustle and bustle in between - that gives this city its essence and character.

The district that bears the hallmark of old West Berlin like no other is Charlottenburg-Wilmersdorf. Between the Zoo and Tauentzien lies its perceived center, and not far from this center, on Kantstraße, is the shop of Harry Lehmann - for the inattentive, two nearly invisible shop windows near the intersection of Wilmersdorfer Straße. But once you step through the glass door into the interior of the store, you feel transported back to old West Berlin - even if beyond the glass door and shop windows it is still 2021. And if I had to choose one fragrance from all the scents available here as the essence of Harry Lehmann - it would be Russian Leather.

Due to the many Russian exiles, Charlottenburg was once given the nickname 'Charlottengrad', but it can be doubted that this was the impetus for Russian Leather - a name that promises much yet is so different from what the advanced perfume lover may have expected. Here is a powerful and sharply orchestrated scent - one that offers such a variety of notes and accords that one can truly speak of 'orchestration'. It is a Chypre and then again not, is leather and yet not, is as confidently old-school as the Kantstraße outside the door, whether in 2021 or not.

Russian Leather is an uncompromisingly linear scent of the old school, situated somewhere between Chypre, oak moss, and leather - and thus quite disturbingly foreign for noses that have only been socialized in the last twenty or even ten years. It tells of the 70s and 80s of the last century - not nostalgically or romantically, but quite soberly, it speaks of cigarette smoke in fur coats, of crab salad in cocktail glasses, and the serious demeanor of the waiter as he approached the table and said softly: 'A call for you, Mr. Director.' Here is the soul of Harry Lehmann, Kantstraße 106 in Berlin-Charlottenburg, in a bottle. Here.

Conclusion: every generation has found ways and words to sing the neighborhood vibe of Berlin anew: from Hilde's homesickness for her Kurfürstendamm to Sido's district, quarter, area, street, block. Sven Regener, frontman of the Berlin band Element of Crime croaked: 'Where your feet stand is the center of the world.' Here in Charlottenburg, where it smells of Lehmann's Russian Leather.

Addendum: is loewenherz back? No, it is not. Just this once. :)