Achilles

Achilles

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Fruit-Fuel Paradox
Certain fragrance concentrations and combinations are indeed capable of triggering associations, and I am always alert when it comes to ideas of scents like gasoline, oils, lacquers, and lubricants. PG's latest creation aims to convey this notion, inviting you on an olfactory journey to his father's workshop filled with vintage cars and the memory of "dirty engine grease," which he calls "motor sweat."

In direct comparison to original fragrance materials that are supposed to be chopped up in such conceptual scents, everything smells quite different, or a fragrance only partially manages to hit the notes accurately. The note, or idea of motor oil, is definitely present, although not as "motor sweat."
The top note is immediately sharp, very fresh, very masculine, but by no means mainstream, which one might think right away (Aventus, etc.).
The whole concept is indeed emphasized by this high dose of blackcurrant with a splash of mandarin, which is well-suited because many fragrances with this note can be found in workshop associations in statements or fragrances that contain them more than average.
What initially sounds paradoxical is actually true.

Through extensive research and inquiries, I was able to find out that there is a correlation between fragrances with recurring notes and people who can identify associations of kerosene, turpentine, gasoline, etc., without having a prior idea like here. It is often the case that fragrances are "prejudged," and based on previously made statements, one also desperately searches for the same associations. In plain language: 100 people write they smell gasoline in Fahrenheit. The 101st will expect to smell it too, influenced by others' perceptions. But they might only discern cucumber and violet and leather at the highest level, like I do. It could be a part of influence, another part lack of research, but one cannot blame anyone for that.
This "Fruit/Fuel Paradox" appears, for example, in Diesel Fuel for Femme, where many detect gasoline, or Aqua Allegoria Pamplelune, which produces sharp notes through grapefruit and, conversely, reminds one of nail polish remover, gasoline, or turpentine. I can understand it, but - everywhere it lacks that greasy, dirty note that Mecanique has - without smelling like gasoline. Perhaps layering would be necessary.
Often, something similar is also detected in rose and oud or a combination of both, as well as in leather, rubber, etc.
However, here the motor oil component is definitely prominent, fresh cold, well-stored oil, none that has already been used in a machine. Anyone expecting a whiff of exhaust fumes / exhaust fuel will be disappointed. One must like the characteristic smell of cold oil to wear this. "Motor sweat" cools down, one could say.

Fuel has characteristic, oily crude oil components due to its properties as a refined petroleum product, which are unmistakable. PG manages to create these only in the realm of motor oil; overall, it smells like a cold mineral oil distillate with a blackcurrant garnish. This "grease" note is achieved not least through aldehydes, I assume. Aside from the powerful top note, there is no notable progression, except for a direct dull fall into a seductive musk bed with a few scent pillows, which also remains that way for hours.

Those who do not like musk or cannot handle it well will also have difficulties here, as the fragrance is, beyond the mechanical aspect, also pure lure, where we would be at desir, which is excellently captured. Thus, the fragrance is, in summary, a successful interpretation of seduction without the usual or expected ingredients or associations.
Musk here is velvety, quickly omnipotent; one cannot resist it in the slightest. Interestingly, there is a certain similarity to Nasomatto's Nudiflorum, unmistakably angelica, biting woody, herb-sweet, but attractive, without jasmine narcotic. This is underscored by the violet leaf, which smells as if it had been cut out of Fahrenheit, no violet pastille scent, thankfully.
All in all, the idea is well executed, and the mixture of workshop/seduction is strangely harmoniously interpreted. However, for my understanding and taste, necessary components or aspects of working on cars are missing, such as entering a garage, plastic, dust, fuel scent, solvents, etc.
Understandably, this is a special preference, and PG had to ensure that the whole thing sells, which is why it was implemented in a more mass-compatible and safer way.
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What good is the most beautiful weapon if it is not loaded...
Oh, an update. Well, at least a date. First off: it’s called (in the third person singular: needs. Not "need". You’re driving me crazy.)
Regarding the general situation (Germany, Austria, Switzerland, accent is Arial). When it’s around 45° in the shade in the Republic, I have to wear the most malignant, heavy, and third-ugliest scents from my collection (in public). Why? Sadism perhaps, no, for sure it’s sadism. I love it when people in the train are gasping (when I’m riding along, otherwise I get nothing out of it - Esoterics, you’re called upon), and not because one of the busiest routes from Berlin consists of the fact that you can’t open a window for fear that Grandma from the sixth row on the left croaks: "to close it, I have gout!!". Strictly speaking, I wish I had had the scent for longer than 2 years, because the public deserves to be preemptively throttled.

Metal Hurlant is an answer to people who can’t even see themselves spending cents on deodorant early in the morning, BEFORE they can spare 5 minutes of their precious time to shower - Kouros and Duro are rather stimulating, which is why I avoid these testosterone braggarts in public. Horror. As far as I know, most households are supplied with hot water (please don’t just stand there like a raw lasagna sheet).
It helps me to internalize: "just get dumber for a few hours, this way you’ll internalize your own mortality less." The fat man who bent my seat grip beyond recognition when he wanted to reach his own, and who is stuck in tight cycling shorts in inverted pyramids, should suffer just as much as the philosophy student in her 20th semester, who cheekily stares at the displays of other passengers. Oh, and let’s not forget (insert name), who is desperately clutching her oboe (is that what it’s called? Goethe isn’t called Göthe either o_O) and hopes not to have to interrupt music class due to a disturbance of the otherwise so meticulous Berlin S-Bahn traffic.

Meanwhile, I feel incredibly comfortable smelling like nail polish remover and brush cleaner, oil change, bicycle chain, and gasoline, hoping (present active - damn participle.) - although after long experience I have no expectation - the rows may thin out. A hoped-for outcome (finally, gerund - secretly my favorite in Latin class, and luckily - the Bachelorette is on tonight) would be to exist in a Hellraiser (Pinhead!)-like aura in the train. May they be tormented just as I am, by their underarm-under-mustache ignorance. This also applies to the gym. Not that I had visions of getting a hose.

About the scent: it epilates the relations west and east. From the wearer. Unless you love the scent of: ATU. Motor oil that has a small leak in every fourth bottle, Sonax, Nigrin (I can’t help it that it’s called that), the gas station where the greasy fuel hoses are the reference and not the meat rolls, entering a garage in winter, stone floor, collar of a leather jacket... Musk in the blazing sun while refueling, that’s Metal Hurlant. Although, this "calculation" doesn’t always work out, there are few who find exactly THAT great (except for me, among misanthropes best case the similarly minded partner, you have to consider it in context, situationally it rarely becomes clear). If you find it: hold on tight until the eyeballs bleed.
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Creation-E or the perfect fragrance
Currently I found out, this fragrance is named "Creation-E" (different to Europe) in the United States.
Nevertheless, doesn´t matter if Enigma pour Homme or Creation-E, this is the most brilliant and perfect fragrance, I ever had. Its outbalanced, smooth body derives from rich and luxurious ingredients. Though in my German review I included a riddle for the audience, here I will keep it short and simple: The overwhelming, sweet and oriental touch of the whole experience is due to the fine cognac and vanilla notes, which can be smelled from the beginning to the very end. It is like to open Cognac and Tom Fords Tobacco Vanille and smell both simultaneously. Ok, a little bit more is included in this one.
The first impression by spraying it to the skin offer crisp and dazzling citrus notes and a bit like an open bottle of fresh and icy-cold cherry coke or cream soda, though not too sweet it would stick on you. This could be the mix of Bergamot, Neroli and Heliotrope. Together with Jasmine the impression turns into something creamy, like almonds. Hard to describe the balance between fresh and creamy notes on the top, but which lead the path to the golden heart.
The heart reveals quickly and offers the appetizer, spiced vanilla cream with cardamom and ginger, before the basenote invites to enjoy a cigar with sweet, greasy tobacco and first-class cognac in a gentlemen´s room.
Overall, this fragrance lasts for more than 12 hours by a very small amount of it applied to the skin. The Sillage is a beast and you´ll get tons of compliments for it.
Due to the horrifying price, this is the slightest Roja Dove should offer to his clients with this creation. By the way, this is the only Roja Dove Perfume I´d buy again. Unfortunately I don´t know, how the extrait is like, this review is about the Eau de Parfum.
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