Blood
Burnt leather
Burnt rubber
Fuel
Gun powder
Iodine
Musk
Smoke
Sweat
Metallic notes
Pepper
Vodka04/13/2025
Chizza
299 Reviews
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Chizza
Helpful Review
22
The new ChizzaGPT in use (no, it's not from ChatGPT, I'll come straight out and say it!)
A new AI for perfume comments went online, the ChizzaGPT. So I wanted to try it out for lack of my own ideas, this is my dialog with myself:
(Necessary note on my part so the comment doesn't get deleted: I wrote it with a wink, it's not a mere ChatGPT copy-paste work but more of an homage. I would therefore be happy if you don't delete the comment just because it mocks the use of ChatGPT etc.)
"ChizzaGPT, knock yourself out, I need something to go with the Molotov Cocktail but in my style!"
"Of course! Your reviews are characterized by a detailed but poetic description of the fragrance, often capturing the mood and experience around the scent. You also use clear, visual language that evokes emotions and associations. Which perfume should I review?"
"Molotov Cocktail but no Floyd poetics please, there's not that much time today."
"Here is a Floyd-free review in your style of Molotov Cocktail by Sylhouette Parfums:
Sometimes a perfume isn't just a scent, it's a statement. Molotov Cocktail is just that - an explosion, an anarchist manifesto in flacon form. The name says it all: a rebellious fire that blazes on the skin. Well, what's left of it.
It opens with a punch that doesn't have the sweetness of a fruit basket, but rather the spiciness of a fiery cocktail - almost threatening. An ensemble of metallic and smoky notes immediately breaks through the surface. It's like enjoying a moment of silence before the flames flare up."
"Go on, this is me and fits so far! But there's nothing fruity, just metal, smoke, fire, don't let the cocktail blind you!"
"A non-sweet Molotov cocktail that's more intoxicating than destructive" - you couldn't have said it more aptly, you already did! Your words capture exactly what this perfume is all about: it is not destruction, but transformation. The alcoholic note softens the harshness of the burnt ruins, like a moment in which the sparks begin to dance and the darkness is illuminated. Only nothing dances here anymore.
There is definitely no warmth in the heart. Woody and balsamic notes cover the skin like a blanket of embers, while the ashes continue to glow in the background, except that there is nothing balsamic here. Woody yes, so what's left. Despite its bold opening, the perfume becomes more wearable, you almost get used to being a creature with the breath of fire.
Molotov Cocktail is like a rabble-rousing poem recited aloud - raw, intense, and yet ultimately human."
"Now you're exaggerating a bit, so I'm exaggerating a bit or whatever. Well, let's leave it at that: now I like to incorporate unnecessary foreign words that no one uses with a pinch of nerdy satire. Can you take that into account?"
"All right, I hear you. Here's a review in your style with foreign words and a dash of nerdy satire:
Molotov Cocktail is this: a fragrant pyrolysis work of art that cares little for favors and instead throws the olfactory Molotov. Is the world on fire? Yes, but it smells fantastic. If you appreciate destruction.
The opening is a smouldering non-fruit accord that is really, really not at all reminiscent of a fruit salad, but of a slash-and-burn and burning cars - somewhere between a conflagration and a really fierce conflagration.
But wait, dear perfume aficionados, it's not the unexpected fruit bomb, but rather an alambic of toxic smoke and glowing steel. If you're only looking for consensus here, you're more likely to get consensus denial pressed on your nose.
A combination of smoke, metal and a touch of underground chic. You could almost think that the fragrance is a symbiosis of a post-apocalyptic and a glass of bourbon. Which really isn't in front of me, er you, but you came up with it in the fragrance. Sure.
So the base, you ask yourself? A woody note that's too warm because it's already burnt, but not one that feels like a cozy open fire. Rather like an extreme amount of burnt matches. And a lot of gasoline. There is also an undertone that is definitely not balsamic, which subtly hints: "Yes, I am dangerous, but look, I also have a soul!" A perfume with depth and a mischievous wink. And a pitch-black soul. I would have preferred to go toe-to-toe with Eric Draven.
Wearing Molotov Cocktail is not an act of civilization, but of criticism of civilization."
"Nice, even I had to google Alambic first! And the ending - what a statement!"
(Necessary note on my part so the comment doesn't get deleted: I wrote it with a wink, it's not a mere ChatGPT copy-paste work but more of an homage. I would therefore be happy if you don't delete the comment just because it mocks the use of ChatGPT etc.)
"ChizzaGPT, knock yourself out, I need something to go with the Molotov Cocktail but in my style!"
"Of course! Your reviews are characterized by a detailed but poetic description of the fragrance, often capturing the mood and experience around the scent. You also use clear, visual language that evokes emotions and associations. Which perfume should I review?"
"Molotov Cocktail but no Floyd poetics please, there's not that much time today."
"Here is a Floyd-free review in your style of Molotov Cocktail by Sylhouette Parfums:
Sometimes a perfume isn't just a scent, it's a statement. Molotov Cocktail is just that - an explosion, an anarchist manifesto in flacon form. The name says it all: a rebellious fire that blazes on the skin. Well, what's left of it.
It opens with a punch that doesn't have the sweetness of a fruit basket, but rather the spiciness of a fiery cocktail - almost threatening. An ensemble of metallic and smoky notes immediately breaks through the surface. It's like enjoying a moment of silence before the flames flare up."
"Go on, this is me and fits so far! But there's nothing fruity, just metal, smoke, fire, don't let the cocktail blind you!"
"A non-sweet Molotov cocktail that's more intoxicating than destructive" - you couldn't have said it more aptly, you already did! Your words capture exactly what this perfume is all about: it is not destruction, but transformation. The alcoholic note softens the harshness of the burnt ruins, like a moment in which the sparks begin to dance and the darkness is illuminated. Only nothing dances here anymore.
There is definitely no warmth in the heart. Woody and balsamic notes cover the skin like a blanket of embers, while the ashes continue to glow in the background, except that there is nothing balsamic here. Woody yes, so what's left. Despite its bold opening, the perfume becomes more wearable, you almost get used to being a creature with the breath of fire.
Molotov Cocktail is like a rabble-rousing poem recited aloud - raw, intense, and yet ultimately human."
"Now you're exaggerating a bit, so I'm exaggerating a bit or whatever. Well, let's leave it at that: now I like to incorporate unnecessary foreign words that no one uses with a pinch of nerdy satire. Can you take that into account?"
"All right, I hear you. Here's a review in your style with foreign words and a dash of nerdy satire:
Molotov Cocktail is this: a fragrant pyrolysis work of art that cares little for favors and instead throws the olfactory Molotov. Is the world on fire? Yes, but it smells fantastic. If you appreciate destruction.
The opening is a smouldering non-fruit accord that is really, really not at all reminiscent of a fruit salad, but of a slash-and-burn and burning cars - somewhere between a conflagration and a really fierce conflagration.
But wait, dear perfume aficionados, it's not the unexpected fruit bomb, but rather an alambic of toxic smoke and glowing steel. If you're only looking for consensus here, you're more likely to get consensus denial pressed on your nose.
A combination of smoke, metal and a touch of underground chic. You could almost think that the fragrance is a symbiosis of a post-apocalyptic and a glass of bourbon. Which really isn't in front of me, er you, but you came up with it in the fragrance. Sure.
So the base, you ask yourself? A woody note that's too warm because it's already burnt, but not one that feels like a cozy open fire. Rather like an extreme amount of burnt matches. And a lot of gasoline. There is also an undertone that is definitely not balsamic, which subtly hints: "Yes, I am dangerous, but look, I also have a soul!" A perfume with depth and a mischievous wink. And a pitch-black soul. I would have preferred to go toe-to-toe with Eric Draven.
Wearing Molotov Cocktail is not an act of civilization, but of criticism of civilization."
"Nice, even I had to google Alambic first! And the ending - what a statement!"
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