3lbows

Strange how time rushes by. You stroll leisurely through the pedestrian zone among neatly bearded thirty-somethings (or twenty-somethings?) with pomaded quiff cuts, feeling overtaken by e-scooters, TikTok, ChatGPT, GenZ, and the turning of the times. You think - just a moment ago, I was a university graduate, ready to offer my most productive years to the working world, and now the CEO during a client visit is surely 10 years younger than you, and people on the bus start to stand up for you.

When did all this happen, damn it! Almost 40 years of Sleeping Beauty slumber in the economic miracle, and then: BAM - pandemic, raw material crisis, war, turning of the times.
Everything everywhere all at once, and you: right in the middle, just as out of place (or better, out of time) as Patrick Stewart and the rest of the Picard cast.
Your birth year is as far from the Weimar Republic as it is from LGBTQ+. You find out how people really tick, and you believe you’ve woken up in another world: cold, polarized, resigned. And just when you feared that the never-ending and at best interrupted by Transformers superhero adaptations would mean the film industry is likely to be greeted by the groundhog for the foreseeable future, Disney shoves one soulless Star Wars iteration after another into the streaming ether.

May you live in interesting times - Thanks, Merkel!

What does this have to do with Kalan? This fragrance DNA in general, and Kalan in particular, condenses for me the feelings and moods that I tried to describe in the introduction - and I admit, it’s a bit off-topic.
There is an aromatic, leathery, synthetic base note, surrounded by fruity notes. Yes, the blood orange is prominently recognizable, as is the sharpness of the pepper. However, the composition feels unorganic, strange, and - although certainly spicy - rather cold. Here is assembled what does not belong together, or what does not occur together in nature - unless perhaps you run over an orange right after changing your tires. But don’t get me wrong: the concept is coherent and well-crafted, and in terms of the raw materials, it is implemented with considerable value. Perfume as an expression of olfactory creativity and freedom beyond natural constraints and societal conventions. It worked with salty caramel, after all. And it works here too, because Kalan doesn’t smell bad - just outside the boxes that my fragrance brain has reserved for perfume. Kalan is neither a spicy oriental nor a fougère. There is nothing clean or soapy, nothing cologne-fresh or ambry gourmand, nothing powdery, nothing animalic, nothing classically "perfumey," and yet the wearer is perceived as pleasantly scented.

The drydown fluctuates in my perception between slightly sweet and bitter/herbaceous, almost as if saffron were included. I can understand comparisons to "Baccarat Rouge 540 (Eau de Parfum) | Maison Francis Kurkdjian," "Instant Crush | Mancera," or "Spirito Fiorentino | Tiziana Terenzi," as they all play different instruments in the same orchestra. The medicinal-leathery, almost scratchy base note in Kalan, enhanced by the pepper, is common to all. This saffron DNA is currently one of the most duped fragrance compositions (especially BR540) and practically omnipresent in every German shopping mall after 12:50 PM.

Anyone wanting to stand out in line for the new sneakers will find Kalan a good choice, as it is far enough from BR540 to set its own accents, and its fruitiness makes it suitable for year-round wear. It also doesn’t lack in radiance and longevity: applied just before heading to the office, then quickly slipping into ankle-free slim-fit workout pants in the afternoon, the helicopter dad still receives appreciative glances from like-minded men at his daughter’s cheer dance performance after 8 hours. That’s how it should be.
Kalan accompanies you all day, all year round - more casual than smart and more extroverted than for an intimate date, but otherwise really versatile, except perhaps for the Patrick Stewart generation - it lacks seriousness and class for that.

I’ll stick my neck out and claim that with this DNA, as well as the completely different but equally leathery-synthetic direction taken by "Ganymede (Eau de Parfum) | Marc-Antoine Barrois," a turning of the times has also begun in the fragrance business, which will make later perfume generations ponder sentimentally over "1 Million (Eau de Toilette) | Paco Rabanne" and Sauvage Eau de Toilette much like my generation does over Kouros and Cool Water.
Well, apparently I have to learn this DNA, or continue wearing Sauvage. At least I won’t be accused of being mainstream with it anymore. Because in my opinion, that is currently being thoroughly overtaken.
This review was, by the way, created without the aid of artificial intelligence. I only googled something at most. I’m still from yesterday.

ZARA releases them like crazy - mainly dupes and/or mostly well-made, with names chosen to be nice and hip, so as not to underwhelm the search function on Parfumo.

Certain basic themes repeat themselves, so you often feel like you've smelled one or another fragrance at Zara before. For example, I feel this way about "#Tobacco Collection - Rich/Warm/Addictive | Zara", Warm Black, TOB/03 Tabac-Treasure - not identical but using the same tobacco-warm-fruity framework.

At ZARA, you get the chance to sniff at the big brands without having to invest a fortune - 100ml refills, if you will.

Often, you have to act quickly, as the Spaniards rotate their productions faster than the federal government changes its plans for heating replacements. This happened to me recently with Coastal Salty Forest - just yesterday on my watchlist, today already nowhere to be found.
By the way, the performance of most Zara fragrances is equally fleeting; there must be a catch somewhere.

Are they really that full of creativity, or is it just Zara's business model to generate panic among customers?

The statements or reviews about Zara fragrances are full of references to the copied originals. You can find everything from Aventus in countless iterations to Tobacco Vanille and Imagination, all the way to Alexandria II, in not-so-bad discount flacons. That's not a sign of creativity, is it, or is it?
Do we even need to test the ZARAs as perfume narrators, or do we know one and thus all?

With the mass of releases, there are indeed always exceptions that make you exclaim, "Wow! - that's from Zara?" For example, try TOB/02 Tobacco Tango! And then there are also original compositions by well-known perfumers like Jo Malone's "Zara Emotions N°01 - Vetiver Pamplemousse (Eau de Parfum) | Zara", so Zara is not necessarily lacking in class - and definitely not in price/performance.

My latest Zara "aha" experience was Somewoody, especially since I didn't know Alex II.
Everyone who has read the statements knows that Somewoody smells like Alex. But how does it smell for someone who doesn't know the former?
Like many Zaras, Somewoody initially starts off synthetic-alcoholic, almost scratchy. However, this quickly settles down, leaving a milky-creamy amber scent, woody, slightly sweet, with fresh nuances. This woody freshness remains throughout the very successful drydown, surrounded by white florals, before it fades into a skin-close musk aura. The lavender indicated in the notes has, by the way, hidden itself very well in the fragrance pyramid. At least I couldn't find it.
The performance is in the upper range of the Zara portfolio: it lasts surely for 6 hours, even if it never radiates really potent, which for me is more of a reason to buy than a hindrance, as it allows for much more versatile use.
As I said, I can't draw comparisons to Alex, but I do see parallels to № 02 - L'Air du Désert Marocain Eau de Toilette Intense, although the spicy elements in Somewoody are much more delicately laid out, and to the woody freshness from Imagination, although here entirely unfruity.

Somewoody is a warm, bright, and pleasant daytime fragrance, a classic everyday scent, unexciting - almost harmless, but still special, as this DNA is (still) relatively unused. Somewoody is not "Look what I have in my pants," but "Come, let's chat over a cozy coffee."
The only thing that slightly spoils my overall experience is this synthetic quality that I find in almost all Zaras. I sometimes even feel like I taste a sour note on my tongue - subjective, I admit, but still present. However, this effect fades in the drydown, and so I can only recommend everyone to invest 16 euros to get to know this DNA and find out if they can live with it. It's definitely worth it.

How amber was obtained back in the day and, above all, who figured out that this stinky stuff could be used as a fixative for perfume is a mystery to me. That guy must have had quite an imagination.
We are talking about chunks weighing up to 10kg - not unlike our tonsil stones in consistency and smell - from the digestive tract of the sperm whale, which find their way to the surface of the sea through death, vomiting, or defecation.
Only through what we might call ripening in sun and saltwater does this dyspeptic product of the great marine mammal, caused by hard-to-digest components from octopuses and squids, transform into something fragrant. Amazing stuff.
The scent is partly due to the ingredient “Ambrinol” or “Ambrox,” which is now artificially produced and finds its use in many flagship perfumes of the fragrance industry, foremost Baccarat Rouge 540 Eau de Parfum, Aventus, Sauvage Eau de Toilette, L'Immensité and ultimately also Imagination.
Woody, creamy, silky, sweet-floral, salty, slightly bitter, musky, mineral-earthy, skin-like - from the long list of adjectives, you can already tell that the scent impression is highly subjective. However, a common denominator would be a warm, sensual, seductive base texture that can casually enhance any fragrance DNA - aphrodisiacally speaking.
In Imagination, Ambroxan is skillfully woven together with citrus notes and a hint of cinnamon into a summer go-to that is truly one of a kind. In the opening, it is still accompanied by green notes, which come across to me more as grassy than tea-like; after 30 minutes, Imagination projects a calm, warm, citrus-creamy, slightly sweetened aura that brings a smile to my office-weary face with every whiff. Imagination is incredibly attractive, likable, nothing scratches here, everything fits. The scent radiates a pleasantly balanced vibe, doesn’t annoy anyone, and is still perceptible close to the skin in the evening. And the next morning. And the day after that, transferred from the pillow back to the neck and - unless another perfume is applied - still close to the skin but distinctly noticeable.
Since in the base - although present - it is not woods but Ambroxan that sets the tone, and its attractive effect is not clearly gender-specific, Imagination can be worn unisex. The scent is universally applicable: fresh enough for summer, bold enough for winter, playful enough for sweaters and sneakers, and sophisticated enough for smart or business casual.
However, for a niche fragrance, it lacks the edges and surprises, the special qualities. Those looking for a gruff retro scent for corporate alphas that not everyone wears, or a complex avant-garde experiment that opens up new scent spheres, will be out of place here.
But for those aiming for unpretentious summer fragrance with addictive potential, LV serves them well, even if the price prevents it from becoming a mega-seller. Perhaps that’s a good thing.

The whole world knows and praises The One for Men Eau de Parfum, and despite my now 4-year-long fragrance journey, this scent hadn't found its way to my olfactory organ until recently.

So off to my trusted drugstore to catch up on what I absolutely needed to: A proper spray from the well-dosing atomizer of the high-quality, black (sic!) bottle onto my hand and "Aha - I like this!" With a tea-like, timid - and also not yet smelled - sweetness, smoothly spiced with cardamom and a hint of leather, this homogeneous, outstanding blend with depth immediately captivated me. It's understated, no question, although: It's not as weak as everyone laments; it lasts a good 6-8 hours, albeit admittedly close to the skin. However, there's no trace of tobacco or orange blossom. And wait: Wasn't the bottle top orange-brown?

Ah. Okay. I tested "The One for Men (Eau de Parfum Intense) | Dolce & Gabbana." Also good. No, better! Just don't tell anyone about this amateurish faux pas, or they'll think you're nose-blind, or worse: A perfume novice. I might as well admit that I like Sauvage…

So, on the offensive: I give 10 Parfumos, who have informed themselves online but haven't yet had The One under their noses, the black one and claim it's the EdP. Without the knowledge that this is "only" the unloved flanker, the judgment turns out to be much more favorable. Wanna bet? Yes, I would even go so far as to say that 6 out of 10 rate the Intense better in a blind sniff test than the OG. Two of the remaining four are now trying to hang me with the fact that the EdP is ultimately just a flanker too. The remaining two are off to grab a döner and then put on "Emporio Armani - Stronger With You Intensely | Giorgio Armani."

Why is the EdP Intense being ignored by the community? Because it simply doesn't meet expectations. And to be fair: A more durable, intense version of the OG is not what the EdP Intense is. It's even relatively far from that, which probably leads many to stamp it as a cash-cow flanker. However, there are indeed similarities to its relative from the Parfumo Top 15: Both share this warm-spicy core, finely crafted around a truly worship-worthy cardamom note, which for me defines The One DNA: This isn't about standing out at the Christmas market or dropping panties, like with so many other not necessarily worse representatives of the genre such as Le Mâle Le Parfum or "La Nuit de L'Homme (Eau de Toilette) | Yves Saint Laurent." Here, the sweet-spicy ginger spice is used carefully to create a warm yet cool-refreshing aura. In "The One for Men (Eau de Parfum Intense) | Dolce & Gabbana," however, this is significantly less "intense," and in place of the hesperidic-fruity notes of the EdP, a hint of neroli moves in, so to speak, as a cool counterpart, along with a similarly delicate leather note that replaces the tobacco in the EdP. The scent impression becomes somewhat less cozy and attractive, less intimate, but more mature. The EdP Intense can therefore be used universally, even outside of date situations, in the cooler half of the year up until spring, especially in the office.

What I actually wanted to get at with my review: Our goodwill towards scents strongly depends on our expectations. My predecessor Hughes069 already hits the nail on the head. And this is particularly unfortunate in the spheres of our hobby world that are so strongly shaped by subjective impressions, as we surely miss out on one or another fragrance experience just because we label it in advance.
I can only advise you to try the EdP Intense at least once without prejudice. A mix-up with the EdP is out of the question, but if it leads to new, interesting experiences, it is definitely welcome!

In keeping with the zeitgeist of conscious verbal communication, we are now allowed to do everything we once had to: We are allowed to learn…, You may reconsider that for now, I can now decide… Whether this promotes self-efficacy and independence, expresses personal responsibility, or simply removes the sharpness, but also the binding nature from communication, I cannot quite judge. Somehow, I feel quite alone in my perception of this phenomenon anyway.

But enough of that topic, let’s move on to the flanker debate, this time: Stronger With You by Armani.

How far may - wait - must a flanker be removed from the original, and how should, or must one use the modal verbs must and may today? I don’t want to go further into the basic concept of the line here, as it is being hyped up and down by all fragrance influencers. Emporio Armani - Stronger With You Leather shifts the DNA-typical fragrance components of cinnamon, vanilla, and chestnut in their weighting and complements them with a subtly rough, but unfortunately somewhat synthetic leather note. It seems they want to move somewhat away from the gourmand corner, yet surprisingly remain quite close to the original, aside from the trimming of sillage and longevity. The SWYs stand - compared to many other current flanker lines - very close together, differing at best in nuances and essentially staying true to the core theme. If you know one, you know them all.

Should it be this way? Must it be this way? Must, or may one absolutely have Leather if one already owns one of its counterparts? It’s not that easy, as in our regions the Gold version, which is probably intended for the Arab market, is rather rare. If someone doesn’t have a SWY yet but wants one, they may or must, but can definitely choose from:

- Emporio Armani - Stronger With You, the universal OG,

- the synthetically refreshed, aimed at party-hungry youngsters (so-called Clubbers) Emporio Armani - Stronger With You Only (or better its discontinued predecessor Emporio Armani - Stronger With You Freeze - the hint of Invictus was already a brilliant twist)

- the slightly boozy Emporio Armani - Stronger With You Absolutely - Santa's choice on the armchair after a long workday - not too strong, but oak barrel-like

- "Emporio Armani - Stronger With You Intensely | Giorgio Armani", the Toffifee performance monster with Christmas market attention guarantee,

- Emporio Armani - Stronger With You Oud (I haven't had that under my nose yet, but I don't expect any tectonic shifts here either),

or this one here, which with a hint of animalic notes not only understands how to dress Arab businessmen in a sticky-modern way during the cold season but would also find its buyers here in the office - fitting for the Christmas sweater on December Fridays. One does not have to (may?) have them all, but the selection is nice, as is the fact that Armani is establishing a clear and recognizable fragrance brand here. And those who want to or would like to may (but do not have to) collect, as the bottles with the different shades of liquid look excellent in a backlit glass shelf.

Anyone who likes SWY Leather but struggles with its market availability must and may absolutely try L'Eau d'Issey pour Homme Noir Ambré, a brother in spirit and in turn a flanker of a sub-flanker of a line that operates far less DNA-true and more marketing-driven name variations than thematic variations. The fragrance is indeed successful, but can, no - must, wait - may (!) one still market it as a flanker?