I actually just wanted to enjoy a quiet moment. A simple espresso, a little sweet treat…nothing earth-shattering. But then it happened, and my Toffifee, which I casually held between two fingers, slipped from my hand and fell right into my freshly brewed espresso. The chocolate began to melt immediately, the caramel became soft, and the hazelnut floated like a little buoy on the surface. Was this an accident or fate? Curiously, I took a sip and was immediately overwhelmed. The bitter notes and the slight acidity of the espresso combined with the velvety sweetness of the caramel. The chocolate made it all beautifully creamy, while the hazelnut, as a nut should, brought an unexpected nuttiness into play. “Wait a minute…,” I thought. “This reminds me of something!”
Moha is typically the scent that hardly anyone knows, as its name somehow sounds like the mantra of a forgotten order from the early Middle Ages. A fragrance that receives little attention on Parfumo…until now. So I find myself on a mission to change that and to bring this little masterpiece of the perfume community a bit closer.
I had been searching for some time for a coffee scent that suited me perfectly. I tested numerous fragrances that had the word coffee in them. But an Irish Coffee? For breakfast? Whether in the scent notes or in the name, during this time I got to know all sorts of strange, but also beautiful fragrances. Yet while one seemed too boozy, the next smelled somehow too bitter, then there was one that was musty, just smelled like old socks. Others reminded me more of coffee with sour milk. After I received a decant of
Moha from a lovely Parfuma, I was immediately thrilled. What a coincidence that I later managed to snag the bottle from her as well. The bottle itself is quite simple and with its minimalist elegance, it already hinted that it does not submit to the loud cries of the marketing machinery.
So let’s get to my scent experience. One spray on the skin and an unexpected warmth spreads immediately. Oh, before I forget, here comes my only real criticism up to that point, the vaporizer, which was a disaster, and I rated the bottle only a “6”, but more on that later. Back to the scent, because the beginning is a bittersweet opening, where dark, roasted notes mix with a subtle spiciness. As if someone had drizzled freshly ground coffee with a hint of cinnamon. Then the true wonder of
Moha unfolds, as caramel and chestnut come to the forefront, but not in a sticky, overly exaggerated sweetness, rather with a beautiful, elegantly balanced flavor. And from this also results my association with this combination, because that very chestnut immediately reminded me of a roasted hazelnut and transforms the scent in connection with the caramel note into an absolutely fantastic gourmand symphony. In the end, soft woods, a hint of tonka bean, and a light veil of vanilla round off the Moha. They give the scent a slightly earthy, but creamy and wonderful depth. Its secret? Yes, this interplay conveys to me a subtle dryness that prevents
Moha from becoming too sweet or too intrusive. All of this may not sound earth-shattering and complex, but in its simplicity, it is a beautiful creation that makes it simply perfect for coffee junkies like me.
As I sip my espresso-Toffifee brew, I wonder: How could it be that
Moha has received so little attention until now? A scent that balances fantastically between sweet seduction and adult sophistication? Perhaps it’s because ŚASVA doesn’t have a huge marketing budget or the name MOHA isn’t loud enough. Maybe it’s just that some fragrances need to be discovered by chance in a certain niche before they ascend to the perfume Olympus. And of course, that coffee scents are usually limited to certain times of the day, as I mostly wear
Moha on my days off for my morning coffee. It fits perfectly on cooler days, but in summer it seems a bit too heavy for me, yet for the rest of the year, it is the perfect companion for a relaxed morning with a nice cup of coffee.
In the meantime, I have finished my first bottle, well, it only had about 30ml in it. But recently, a new bottle moved in with me, and here I come back to the vaporizer. Apparently, I just had the bad luck with my first bottle that the plastic insert of the vaporizer had come loose and kept shifting. As a result, it regularly dribbled and drove me to despair. However, the new bottle has a wonderful vaporizer with a perfect spray pattern, and that ultimately led me to give the bottle a “10” as well.
My contribution here will certainly not trigger a scent revolution or a mega hype, but one thing I know for sure: My espresso-Toffifee accident was not just a culinary stroke of luck; it led me to the trail of an underrated masterpiece. And who knows, perhaps
Moha will one day be so sought after that bottles will be traded at astronomical prices. Then I will lean back, remember this moment, and whisper softly: “I am a pioneer,” not on the moon, but at least in bringing this beautiful scent closer.