
Fittleworth
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Fittleworth
Very helpful Review
17
"Announce to me fresh!" (Germany 1937)
I still remember exactly that day when Father first applied one of those French fragrances that he had sent for from Grasse.
It was indeed something unusual.
Old Schleef …!
Grandfather ranted that such an expense was completely unnecessary and that all French people were notoriously decadent …
"Now that's just too much!"
Where would that lead us?!
"All nonsense and trivialities!"
Father was all about it.
Ever since he brought back such a perfume from a trip to France, he no longer wanted to settle for plain aftershave.
“Lily of the valley or lilac” he didn’t like anyway.
I stood in the open bathroom door and watched him carefully and sparingly apply one of those three expensive fragrances.
“Cultivated! Remember that! Aftershave - all dreadful and disgusting. Miesnitzdörfer and Jensen! All just mush and horror! But this here … this is something completely different!”
I nodded enthusiastically.
It smelled so good …!
“What does my skin say?”
“Primich, primich!”
That was a truly fresh scent, much better than the soap we always used.
Mother still grimaced, but she had probably gotten used to the French customs, as she called them.
“Juniper, my dear! That’s juniper!” my older brother Robert explained to me with a serious face.
He only knew it from Father too ...
So this is how juniper smelled … so pure, so fresh … somehow bright …
Nice!
And Mother said there was certainly lavender in it, she recognized that without any doubt.
Blue, really light blue and radiant like the summer sky, that was this scent.
Blue!
“There are those bergamots in there again, the ones they put in tea in England!”
Father knew it exactly.
It seemed to me that there was even more to sniff out …
And so I sneaked into the bathroom now and then and opened the bottle.
Once I even dripped a tiny drop on my left wrist, just like I had seen Father do.
Robert caught me doing it.
“Are you out of your mind? And by the way, look at how you’re walking around, totally greasy and dirty … completely ridiculous! Wash yourself!”
I grinned and retreated to my room.
The French perfume wouldn’t let me go.
Hmmmmm … how it smelled … Blue summer sky over a pine forest …
And if you waited long enough, it turned into the scent of oranges.
Just like those oranges we had at Christmas!
But still, it smelled like summer itself.
At some point, I decided that when I grew up, I would also go to France and buy this scent.
It was indeed something unusual.
Old Schleef …!
Grandfather ranted that such an expense was completely unnecessary and that all French people were notoriously decadent …
"Now that's just too much!"
Where would that lead us?!
"All nonsense and trivialities!"
Father was all about it.
Ever since he brought back such a perfume from a trip to France, he no longer wanted to settle for plain aftershave.
“Lily of the valley or lilac” he didn’t like anyway.
I stood in the open bathroom door and watched him carefully and sparingly apply one of those three expensive fragrances.
“Cultivated! Remember that! Aftershave - all dreadful and disgusting. Miesnitzdörfer and Jensen! All just mush and horror! But this here … this is something completely different!”
I nodded enthusiastically.
It smelled so good …!
“What does my skin say?”
“Primich, primich!”
That was a truly fresh scent, much better than the soap we always used.
Mother still grimaced, but she had probably gotten used to the French customs, as she called them.
“Juniper, my dear! That’s juniper!” my older brother Robert explained to me with a serious face.
He only knew it from Father too ...
So this is how juniper smelled … so pure, so fresh … somehow bright …
Nice!
And Mother said there was certainly lavender in it, she recognized that without any doubt.
Blue, really light blue and radiant like the summer sky, that was this scent.
Blue!
“There are those bergamots in there again, the ones they put in tea in England!”
Father knew it exactly.
It seemed to me that there was even more to sniff out …
And so I sneaked into the bathroom now and then and opened the bottle.
Once I even dripped a tiny drop on my left wrist, just like I had seen Father do.
Robert caught me doing it.
“Are you out of your mind? And by the way, look at how you’re walking around, totally greasy and dirty … completely ridiculous! Wash yourself!”
I grinned and retreated to my room.
The French perfume wouldn’t let me go.
Hmmmmm … how it smelled … Blue summer sky over a pine forest …
And if you waited long enough, it turned into the scent of oranges.
Just like those oranges we had at Christmas!
But still, it smelled like summer itself.
At some point, I decided that when I grew up, I would also go to France and buy this scent.
11 Comments



Top Notes
Bergamot
Juniper
Lavender
Fiskrompet
Heart Notes
Frankincense
Pine
Rosemary
Base Notes
Labdanum
Moss
Orange

Yatagan
Henriquatre






















