Top Notes 
Lavender
Bergamot
Green leaves
Mandarin orange
Orange
Peppermint
Violet leaf
Lemon zest
Heart Notes 
Patchouli
Cardamom
Coriander
Geranium
Oakmoss
Sandalwood
Sequoia wood
Vetiver
Qempfadrul
Base Notes 
Balsam fir
Clary sage
Tonka bean
Vanilla
04/13/2021
Kourosarier
3 Reviews
Translated
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Kourosarier
Top Review
23
Maybe I'll buy you again...
Long before I was born, my grandma had a new partner after my grandpa passed away. Hermann is one of the best people I've ever met, no problem on that he has no advice, no situation he has not under control, a friendly smile is always on his face, the next joke, often a crude saying on the lips, the Marlboro always between the fingers...
For me, Hermann was always "Dadden". Why, nobody knows. Somehow I christened him that from the very first words. Dadden always had slightly scratchy cheeks, smelled like his Marlboros, Yves Rocher aftershave, maybe some hair lotion, and in the evening, his after-work beer. Maybe he smelled like the scratchy lavender of Tabac Man when you met in town, when birthdays were coming up or when you went out to eat? Maybe. I couldn't have answered it that way. But I know that Dadden is grandpa to me, at least as much grandpa as a biological one can be.
From Grandpa to Grandpa Scents. These fascinated me from the start and in my youthful ignorance Tabac Man moved in with me when I was 16-17 (the "real" Tabac followed later). The desired effect failed to materialize, I didn't smell like the seasoned man I wanted to be back then, I just had a cloud of that scratchy lavender around me. Made up masculinity from the bottle, like a too sharp shower gel, nothing real that connects with you. Disappointment, the bottle was emptied and went out of my life.
Dadden went too, he died in 2009, fall down stairs, overnight, the last "take care, regards to grandma" was an unconscious goodbye. A real one was not granted to us anymore, he did not wake up in this world. 12 years ago now, memories fade, his voice fades from thought.
Two weeks ago I reached for the last of a Tabac Man deodorant, wanting to finally use it up, it had been sitting for far too long. Sprayed it on, yes there it is again, the scratchy lavender, pungent shower gel, a good decision to finally empty it!
But when I came back from the bathroom to the dressing room, by the cloud had settled a bit now, there was something else. A fleeting moment, a quick passing that left just a hint of scent. But enough to recognize you.
Now I know, yes, you had Tabac Man! Sparingly sprayed on when you met in town, birthdays were coming up or you went out to eat. Not much, just a whiff in passing, fleeting and impossible to hold on to. But there.
That was our goodbye. It took him 12 years but now you were there briefly.
And my goodbye to Tabac Man? Maybe I'll buy you again... As long as you're here for a little while
For me, Hermann was always "Dadden". Why, nobody knows. Somehow I christened him that from the very first words. Dadden always had slightly scratchy cheeks, smelled like his Marlboros, Yves Rocher aftershave, maybe some hair lotion, and in the evening, his after-work beer. Maybe he smelled like the scratchy lavender of Tabac Man when you met in town, when birthdays were coming up or when you went out to eat? Maybe. I couldn't have answered it that way. But I know that Dadden is grandpa to me, at least as much grandpa as a biological one can be.
From Grandpa to Grandpa Scents. These fascinated me from the start and in my youthful ignorance Tabac Man moved in with me when I was 16-17 (the "real" Tabac followed later). The desired effect failed to materialize, I didn't smell like the seasoned man I wanted to be back then, I just had a cloud of that scratchy lavender around me. Made up masculinity from the bottle, like a too sharp shower gel, nothing real that connects with you. Disappointment, the bottle was emptied and went out of my life.
Dadden went too, he died in 2009, fall down stairs, overnight, the last "take care, regards to grandma" was an unconscious goodbye. A real one was not granted to us anymore, he did not wake up in this world. 12 years ago now, memories fade, his voice fades from thought.
Two weeks ago I reached for the last of a Tabac Man deodorant, wanting to finally use it up, it had been sitting for far too long. Sprayed it on, yes there it is again, the scratchy lavender, pungent shower gel, a good decision to finally empty it!
But when I came back from the bathroom to the dressing room, by the cloud had settled a bit now, there was something else. A fleeting moment, a quick passing that left just a hint of scent. But enough to recognize you.
Now I know, yes, you had Tabac Man! Sparingly sprayed on when you met in town, birthdays were coming up or you went out to eat. Not much, just a whiff in passing, fleeting and impossible to hold on to. But there.
That was our goodbye. It took him 12 years but now you were there briefly.
And my goodbye to Tabac Man? Maybe I'll buy you again... As long as you're here for a little while
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